A friend noted that I hadn’t written in a while, and that she always knows when I like someone because I stop writing. Damn, she was right. So tonight, I’m determined to be brave, and to admit, yes, I was beginning to like Someone, and well, here’s how that turned out…
The last few months have been a string of highs and lows. After the Canadian, I took myself off the dating sites and found myself spending time (fill in the blank here) with a few old friends. When we were together, it was fun and sexy and cool. When we weren’t, my phone taunted me with its silence. Both Blank Guy 1 and Blank Guy 2 clearly saw me as more of an “option” than a priority. Man, is my ego getting a workout. I wish I could report that I ended both in a blaze of crazy badass bitchy glory, but, the truth is, both simply faded to black. Just like my lifeless phone.
I decided to abandon ship altogether, and quit the dating scene. Three days later, I abandon my resolve and I’m back online analyzing the significance of the endless variety of profile pictures. There are pictures of men posing with tigers (is this a thing?), a poorly executed photoshop experiment where a guy pasted his super tiny head on an enormous bikini-clad body builder, and one of my favorites, a guy posing in his fatigues, surrounded by a dozen topless babes dressed like Santa’s elves. Amidst all this craziness, I did manage to go on a few dates.
First, there’s Success Guy. An accomplished businessman, he also paints, writes and is driven by the need to mentor and inspire others to live a good life. I kind of feel like a potential project when I’m with him. Next, there is RV Guy. He’s 5 years younger, selling his house, and is about to jump into his brand new Airstream and cruise wherever the road takes him. When he gave me a tour, I quipped that I should go straight to the dealer and buy my own Airstream van. “Or you can just come with me.” Hmmmmm.
Finally, there’s the Someone. I liked him right away. He was easy to talk to, cussed as much as I did, and when we went to say our goodbyes at our first meeting, I pointed out that I was slightly taller. His response: “Who gives a fuck.” The next day, he asked me to join him for a stroll around Dunedin and to watch the sunset, and I happily said yes. When I left him last night, I was swooning.
Today, I received a good luck with everything text. Ouch.
This time, I’m choosing to believe that there must be a Silver Lining.