I went out for a drink last night with a gentleman friend. He is funny, smart, handsome, educated, and kind. We have been dating for a few weeks and I enjoy his company. He makes me laugh and I find myself wanting to write down some of the things he says because they are so clever. He’s a writer, so technically that would be stealing, but I think about it. He is the first man in a while that I have been on a second date with. I may date a lot, but it is with purpose. I don’t date just to date, and I don’t want to waste anyone’s time, including my own.
I suppose one could say my dating life is somewhat intimidating, particularly if you don’t date much, but I am simply trying. It takes a certain amount of chutzpah to keep trying, and when you add a blog into the mix, it can be a lot for someone to handle. I write about what is going on in my life, and I can’t not include something, because that would make me a fraud. I date, think Trump is an ass, am starting to love my empty nest, and have made a choice to pay attention to other people’s stories. That’s what is going on, and so that is what I write about.
I haven’t really been dating much lately because my heart is still a little stunned from the last go round, but I found myself feeling lonely and wanting to try again. I am the most optimistic person I know when it comes to love. If you look at my dating history it would make more sense for me to get a bunch of cats and let go of that part of my life, but at the end of the day love is grand, touch is important, and so I keep trying. Praying and trying, but mostly praying. Praying and vodka. Even amounts of prayer and vodka.
I care about people’s feelings and always appreciate when someone is interested in me. Dating is hard, and exhausting, but it takes someone special for me to invest in for longer than a drink. I like this man I’m dating for many reasons, and some of those reasons are new to me, which is wonderful. I think that perhaps my hopeful, unfiltered, and grown up perspective may have freaked him out because last night he told me I was intense.
I would prefer to be viewed as difficult rather than intense, and it hurt my feelings. In a rather unfortunate turn of events, it made me cry. It was of course mortifying, but it is what it is, and luckily I look pretty when I cry. I would call myself a lot of things, but not intense. I simply do not see that about myself. I am an advanced communicator, and not afraid to say what I think or feel, but that makes me a grown up. I suppose it can be perceived as intense, so I guess I’m going to die alone, with 18 cats.
Important to note I know the definition of intense and while one could say it is good to be intense in some situations, it takes on a different note when said in the context of dating. Unless you are referring to your sex life, intense is not a good word to describe a person in a relationship. I’m not even sure it works in terms of sex. At the end of the day I guess i just think it is an unkind word to use when speaking to someone in a personal exchange because whether or not someone is intense, calling them intense is personal.
He was not trying to be unkind. He is actually never unkind, and was surprised by my reaction, which I felt bad about. I suppose it boils down to being tired. Tired of the dating dance, and while I can certainly cut a rug with the best of them, in this particular dance I have two left feet. Last night made me wonder not only if I had gotten it wrong, but what was wrong with me? How can I be so certain I am being one way, when I am being perceived as something completely different? It must be because I’m so intense!
This man is wise and I value his opinion, so I am left wondering if he was right, and I am intense. It has left me sad, which is sad, because what it means is that in my attempt to be brave in how I approach my relationships, I ended up being someone I am not, which has been interpreted in a certain kind of way, which is horrible. Perhaps I am more embarrassed than sad, but sadness is winning right now, and so I cried and then had a restless sleep. It’s not the end of world, and life goes on, but it is a drag.
As someone who dates, it is hard to face the fact I suck at it. One would think I’d be used to it by now, but I’m not. I’m still trying to navigate the waters of dating, and just when I think I have a handle on it, an intense wave knocks me on my ass. I will recover of course, because I always do, but I wish it wasn’t so hard. It would be a pleasant surprise if bravery could be met with bravery. How refreshing it would be if instead of getting spooked, one would be inspired to also be brave.
I’m not one who thinks “bad timing” plays a role in relationships, but I do think time helps figure things out. It would be nice if we figured this out together because he makes sense to me. We make sense to me. It’s all a crap shoot, and there are no guarantees, so all I can do is live and learn. Every step I take gets me one step closer to where I am going. As for where that is, I have absolutely no idea. I really need to be done trying to figure that out. I just need to walk forward, with my focus on keeping the faith.