So by now I was getting kind of ready to maybe spend some time with a man. Not a boyfriend, not a significant other, but a man. One to go out with occasionally, one to have dinner with, maybe the movies, and casual sex should the feeling arise. Is that possible now a days? Is it possible to be with someone, but not really BE with them? Seemed somewhat selfish of me and yet that’s what I was looking for. Some nice conversation, a nice night out. Not every night, not the every day boyfriend that I would have to cater to or put myself out or compromise myself for, but the nice date.
Dating. That’s what I wanted to do. I wasn’t ready for a committed relationship and I knew it, but I was ready for a little something. So it just so happened that someone I went to high school with contacted me after 25 years. Asked if I would be interested in getting together. He and a bunch of his friends were going to a fundraiser and it’d be nice if me and some of my friends showed up. I thought that was a swell idea and so I threw it out to my girlfriends. A night out, a few drinks and something different. We were in the process of deciding to go or not when something came up with one of my kids and I was unable to make it. I hate canceling as I hate last-minute plan changes of any kind. It actually makes me sick. I have only so many hours in a day and if I am planning to do something at 8pm at night, I have spent the previous twelve hours getting everything in so that I can arrive on time to the 8pm event. But alas, I was the one canceling and I felt bad about it, but it couldn’t be helped.
He seemed fine with it and a week or so later asked again. This time I asked my friends and we were all going, no stopping us this time. Then, at the last-minute all of my friends, one by one canceled on me. Ugh, I was annoyed, but I was going to be a big girl and I went alone. I arrived at the restaurant and instantly met up with some old friends and it was a very nice time. I could see by the end of the night this guy was eyeing me like a pork chop. It was clear he was attracted to me, but I wasn’t all there yet. I mean, I haven’t seen you in 25 years, give it a little time. So 25 and I watched the motorcycles drive off, sat outside and chatted for a bit and it was nice. Not fall head over heels nice, but just nice to reconnect and have someone to talk to.
I enjoyed it fully, but when the time came for me to leave I could tell he was going to try to kiss me. I have thwarted off more first kisses than I would like to admit. I don’t like them, they are awkward and uncomfortable and usually someone wants to kiss me a lot more than I want to kiss them. So I gave the cheek. He tried to go for the lips, but they were nowhere in sight. I gave the cheek, a quick hug and high tailed it out of there as soon as I could. The conversation went on for a few days, nothing major on my end, but he was trying hard to let me know what he was looking for. He wanted to fall in love, he wanted to spend time with someone and build a life. I told him I thought that was beautiful, but that I was in fact not the girl to do that with. I wasn’t in the same place as he was and I was looking for a casual dating atmosphere.
The tables had indeed turned. I was the one at arm’s length. I was the one holding off until I was ready. I was the one wanting to keep things casual and cool. It was a strange phenomenon to me to be on the other side of this coin. To not be the one looking, longing, yearning for the next long-term relationship. I wasn’t ready…..or 25 just wasn’t the guy. I felt like I wasn’t going to pass up any opportunities, but I also wasn’t going after something I didn’t feel in my bones. And this, 25, wasn’t having the in my bones feeling, but that didn’t make him a bad guy, just maybe not my guy.
