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He’s finally engaged.
I have a variety of emotions thrown at me when I find out. Part of the chaos is from just getting off the phone with Pen (see previous entry; more on this later). Part of me is stunned. I knew it would happen sometime and soon, but it still stung a tiny bit. We had plans to get dinner and catch up when I was in St. Louis, but he chickened out via text message (although it was his idea). I called him on it and we never spoke again.
He is, for me, what I am to Pen. That #2 in your life that liberates you of what you thought was the norm and showing the way things could be. He was the one that showed me all the physical stuff didn’t have to be used as a tool for manipulation or lies or control. It could be fun and something I could own for myself.
The tiny tick that hurts is that I was never good enough for him to commit, but like Mel told me, “Sometimes I think we’re all girl scouts and instead of ‘leaving our campsites cleaner than when we found them,’ we leave our men better than when we found them. We help them understand women better and, in some cases, understand themselves. And what thanks do we get? They find great relationships after they’re done with us.”
The truth is, as much as he hurt me, he also contributed to making me who I am now. Despite the last year being rough, I AM pretty proud of how far I’ve come. And as one man walks permanently out of my life, another steps in.
As hard as I’ve tried to follow the 2-day rule, I’ve found that my mind still wanders to another man, Pen (see previous entry). He actually calls. So I may have told him straight up he better keep in touch, even if it as only friends or I wouldn’t let him kiss me. It’s a first and I’m unsure how to handle a guy who treats me the way he does. But it’s ridiculous, isn’t it? This is the way it’s supposed to be. I shouldn’t be so in awe of these actions. But the more I thought about it, the more I was sure I wasn’t being swept up by all the niceness. There’s been plenty of nice guys that I wasn’t attracted to and I promised to never settle even when I was lonely.
So what does this mean? I have an opportunity to go visit NYC for Labor Day due to a possible free mileage ticket. I have possibly one day off I can squeeze out of work. I have 50+ friends I need to see there, but I think I would be very happy staying in with him all weekend. That terrifies me. This entire situation freaks me out. I lose my cool when I’m around him, chatting nervously like a little bird to fill up the silences that I’m not used to yet. When he says nothing and just looks at me, I get butterflies and have to blink away because his gaze is so penetrating.
He frustrates me often with his stupid simple man logic (“Wait, why are you complaining about the lack of women boots? You just said there were so many options when you walked in!”) and he likes the wrong sports teams. He goes to bed at midnight and gets up at 7am daily while I find my best energy late at night. Yet, I still want to keep him around to see where it’s going.
Going to NY signifies so much more than just a fun jaunt to the city. After New Orleans, St. Louis and Austin, it’s another home although I never lived there. Going there when I could be going somewhere new (and with Africa soon after) is a giant step. On paper, it’s a horrible idea. Why get attached? Whey get more involved when this is clearly going nowhere with the distance? Like Kilimanjaro, there’s 1000 reasons not to do it and only a handful of good ones. But oh, are those handful really good ones! I promised I would stay open to the possibilities, but not pursue actively. Getting on that plane is breaking all the rules.
Logic or heart? Which?!
Summer: Ok. I, like being on my own. I think relationships are messy and people’s feelings get hurt. Who needs it? We’re young, we live in one of the most beautiful cities in the world; might as well have fun while we can and, save the serious stuff for later.
McKenzie: You’re a dude. [to Tom] She’s a dude!
Tom: Ok but wait–wait. What happens, if you fall in love?
Tom: What?
Summer: You don’t believe that, do you?
Tom: It’s love, it’s not Santa Claus.
What is it about jerks that makes them hard to get over? Or stop thinking about? Is it is because we are SO confused by how one person can be such an asshole that we hold onto some naive hope they’ll prove otherwise? Is the rule that the jerkier they are, the harder it is to move on? Common sense and logic says it should be easier, a clean cut, a head held high movement that tells your feet to walk out. But it never seems to work that way.
The jerks seem to be the hardest heartbreak (for me, anyway). Maybe most of it is anger at myself for ignoring the signs or for making such poor judgement or stupidly thinking he was a good guy. It’s some innate desire to not be wrong when he proves to be THAT guy, even when you’ve sworn you were no longer going to ever date THAT type of guy again.
So I beat a dead horse again and again. Revive it, just to beat it down some more. Each time I think I can’t be hurt even more than I have in the past, I somehow manage to stumble another man that manages do just that. Of course there are good guys out there, but apparently I seem to keep on attracting the bad ones.
I’m not asking for much. I’m not even looking for a boyfriend. Just nice guys that I have a connection that I can get to know better, platonic of otherwise. I’m a low-maitnenced girl. Maybe that’s the problem. Maybe I need to start asking for more, demanding more respect.
Does it ever get easier?
After 10 months of not a single bit of action, even kissing, the planets have aligned for a bizarre few weeks.
This is a long one, folks. My life is actually interesting this week.
Part of selling my soul to the corporate world means going on actual business trips, including training for new hires. So when I found out that the attractive funny co-worker was also in our small group heading to Santa Monica, I was excited to finally have a conversation with him. Since we don’t work together, we never had a conversation; I wasn’t sure if he even knew I existed!
Long story short, when we started talking, I found that we had a lot in common, both in world views, careers and endless wanderlust. During the cocktail hour the first night, we would catch the other’s eyes across the crowd and grin at the awkwardness of meeting new people. As time went by, he went from checking his email while kneeling at the foot of the bed to sitting on the bed to lying on the bed. I would even go as far to say that we had become friends (phone numbers exchanged the first day as we walked along the beach eating ice cream).
And in all cases of conferences, the last night is always the biggest party of it all. Good food, all alcohol paid for and a group of employees happy not to be at work. At 2am, as the group settled in a pool cabana at the hotel, we wandered to our own and proceeded to talk for hours until he had relatively sobered up and about to fall asleep.
Fall asleep? Yeah, right. After hours, he finally made a move (after massaging my calf when I pulled a muscle) and sleepily ducked his head and mumbled that wanted to kiss me. So yes, at 4am on a cool fall night, I found myself making out with a co-worker (witty banter included) in a heated cabana by the pool. Neither one of us could stay awake much longer and after an embarrassing walk pass the cleaning crew and back down to fix my non-working room card, we both crashed hard.
As of now, no bad awkwardness. We agreed to keep it quiet to avoid an HR nightmare or being the tail end of gossip. Not being able to sit on this big of a story, I had to tell my closest girlfriends at work – I have 100% trust in them – and their reaction seemed to validate everything. Since all of them have boyfriends, their main reply was, “I’m so jealous! He’s so cute. And funny. And awesome (insert increasing number of exclamation points).”
As for the semantics, as much as I like him and would love to see where it goes, we DO work together and that’s an iffy situation. At the same time, it’s rare to meet someone and have such a connection. Either way, if it took him forever to kiss me, I can’t imagine how long it’ll take to ask me out (trust me, I’ve given him numerous opportunities). As tempting as it is to make the first move, I’m tired of always being the first to connect after a hook-up and getting no response and feeling defeated. Since I see him every day, my anxiety level on the situation is surprisingly slow since there’s no constant voice in my head wondering, “When will I see him again? What if he never talks to me again?.” So I’m going to take a breather and sit on this one and just let it roll. See how much I’ve matured? 
On the other hand, there’s Mr. One Night Stand (ONS), who as of last night, became Mr. TNS.
The bar is dark and people are jumping around, singing and dancing drunkenly. Mr. Former Harmless Crush leans in closely, his hand at the base of my neck and pulls me closer. He leans in, his mouth coming towards me and whispers in my ear:
“What do you think?”
I stared at him blankly. He pulled me close and asked me again.
Oh, the girlfriend. He wants an opinion on the girlfriend that I finally met tonight for the first time after 5 months. I’m the last friend to meet her and any opinions I have are based on friends’ stories and passing comments.
His face is screwed up in concern as he waits for an answer.
“I don’t really know her enough to judge that. But she’s really nice! I like her,” I yelled over the music and gave a 45 degree thumbs up.
He nods happily and grins, satisfied with my answer and drunkenly goes back to dancing. It’s the first night I’ve seen them interact and to my surprise, jealously barely registers in my chest. When they entered the bar holding hands, I smiled and introduced myself quickly. We did the obligatory hand shake and as we sat down at the table, she turned to me.
“So I finally get to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you from everyone.”
I laugh and tell her it’s probably not good things. After knowing the guys for 10 years, anything goes.
“No, no. They talk about you all the time and how well you take care of them.”
Apparently, my reputation precedes me because the night before, her drunken ditzy roommate told me the same thing. As we filter out the bar and stand in the streets in the cool air, he drunkenly happily hugs me a few times as we part ways.
“Why are you hugging me like you’re never going to see me again?”
“Because I just wanted to hug you again.”
Later on, as we eat leftover dessert and recap the night, Mr. Former Harmless Crush’s best friend seems surprised.
“That means your opinion really matters to him. Take it as a compliment. It doesn’t happen often.”
And that’s what my life feels like lately. These tiny random validations of my presence in people’s lives. I hate that I need these small confirmations, but for whatever reason, they validate the chemistry or friendship I swore existed but kept getting mixed signals on.
Mr. (Former) Adventure
A few weeks ago, I attempted to contact Mr. Adventure to find my missing water shoe left in this trunk from my last STL hurrah. No answer through facebook, e-mail or phone. No real surprise. His best friend W (I seem to consistently become friends with 2 guy-best friends) then dropped the bomb that Mr. Adventures’s girlfriend finds me a threat. It doesn’t come as a complete shock, but apparently no matter how hard I’ve tried to not be that girl in his life (or any of my guy friends’ lives), she still didn’t want me in his life and has swiftly cut him off from me. Of course, there’s no proof she’s outright demanded no contact, but it’s pretty obvious he’s heeding an unspoken threat from her.
I get it. I really do. I just didn’t expect complete avoidance.
“She knows how he (and all of us) enjoyed having you around and the stuff we crammed into that weekend,” says W.
As weird as it, confirmation that I mean something to him made me feel better. Made me confidant that my decision-making, gut feeling wasn’t wrong all those times we interacted so fluently.
And then the one that really sealed the deal of feeling validation. As I mentioned in a previous blog, he went and got himself a girlfriend after a year of saying he didn’t want a serious girlfriend (for the record, I never asked for more than just casual dating). 9 months later, he popped up again out of nowhere with a single word text message during a football game (our football rivalry was a big part of our chemistry). After staring at it in shock, I quickly deleted it and felt proud. But he was not to be stopped. He popped up 2 more times, the second time going as far as to send me an actual message through Facebook, friendly greetings and all, as if nothing had happened and he didn’t ignore my attempt to be friends after we ended things.
I find out soon after from the mutual friend that introduced us that his new girlfriend is hated among all. She’s everything he’s never wanted. She wants him to move out of his much-loved bachelor pad that he owns, get married, have kids and stop hanging out with his friends. And you know what? As superficial as it is, I feel this strange sense of “ha!.”
Does that make sense?
Though I try to avoid tacky sentimental situations, I can’t help but think and reflect on my life on my birthday. I am always excited to turn a year older, and I enjoy thinking about the possibilities that lie in the next year of my life. Apology in advance if this post is all over the place!
1. An age that consists of even numbers.
24. That is a fantastic age! I hated being 23. There was still a good amount of ambiguity from people who think you still might be in college, and the understanding that you’re just getting started in a career and in life. But twenty-four is an attractive age. (I have a thing for even numbers…) I am officially in my “mid-twenties.”
2. Drink less.
I spent most of today on the couch or in bed. I felt terrible! One of the worst hangovers on record. I drink pretty frequently because there seems to be alcohol served at every event in New York City, but try to limit the liquid amount of my drinking. Sometimes I don’t even want to drink at all, but it’s there, so I do. I guess what I’m saying is that I am going to attempt to drink less. I’m starting to feel more adult-y lately: more responsibility at work, more bills, planning trips, just more stuff to take care of in general. It would probably be good to come home sober more frequently.
3. Eat less?
Maybe my metabolism is slowing, or maybe it’s my increased job stress, or lack of time to exercise properly, but any way you look at it I am getting fat. I recently found proof that it’s not just in my head when I went to the doctor’s office. I’ve gained five pounds. Historically, when I notice a weight gain I just eat healthier, eat less, exercise more, etc, and it all works out. However, right now I’ve been doing all those things and nothing is helping. I wake up each morning feeling heavy, and then I get dressed for work and find that I now have “skinny” and “fat” pants. Yikes! Perhaps completing item #2 will assist in this weight maintenance plan…
4. Keep making and keeping friends.
I realized on my birthday that I have a ridiculous amount of people in my life. And just how many of them felt compelled to give me a shout out on my birthday! I interacted in some way with about 40 people yesterday. Damn! Including two gentlemen who I loosely dated months ago. They actually remembered my birthday, and decided to drop a note. How sweet. 
5. Get it together a little more.
I have always had it together. In college I lived with my boyfriend instead of in the fratty-esque student housing. I had bills, owned and used cleaning products, and I ironed my clothes. I have regressed a little in the past few years. I think it’s time to step it up a notch. I see women everyday who don’t seem to deal with the same difficulties that I do (such as breaking out in a sweat every time I get to the subway, not wearing mismatching shoes during my commute, eating properly in front of people at business functions) These are all things I am capable of. I just need to make the conscious effort to do them.
6. Celebrate freedom.
Last night I toasted to my birthday and to the two year anniversary of “getting out of prison.” Two years ago was when my boyfriend of five years dumped me (or finally let me leave). I think I’m doing a damn fine job on my own!
That’s it for now. Does anyone else do this on their birthday? It’s like a real new year’s resolution!
The escapade of my dating life continues. After my incredible date with Mr. Superbowl, Mr. Flowers called to see if I wanted to get together. On Sunday night I went to his house for a mini-Oscars party. We had a great time! He was still as funny and cute as I remembered, and we hung out, watched the broadcast, ordered Thai food and drank champagne. (so classy…)
The next day I thought it was time to decide between the two. By Tuesday I had pretty well decided that Flowers would win. He’s closer to my age, geographically closer, and we seem to have better chemistry. But then I talked to my dad. Yes, my dad! He encouraged me to give Superbowl one more date before I count him out. He said it seems like this guy has a lot going for him and that I shouldn’t be so quick to dismiss him.
Yesterday I called Flowers and left a message to thank him for a nice time Sunday. Then Superbowl called me… I couldn’t pick up because I didn’t know what to say! Flowers called me back today and left a nice message… then I called Superbowl and left a nice message, and he called me back. We are meeting up for drinks tomorrow night… So, I suppose Superbowl is getting one more chance and Flowers is also still in the game. Anyone confused and dizzy yet? I am!
And to make matters even more interesting, there is a third man in the mix: enter Mr. Soccer, the boy from my soccer team who I’ve been flirting with via email for the past month. And the team’s spring season starts up next week…!
If you review some of my posts in this blog you can refer to my “dry spell” and lack of serious dating prospects over the past few months. Since last February, almost a year ago, I haven’t really “dated” anyone. I’ve gotten so used to being the fun, single, unattached girl that all this recent attention is pretty mind-boggling! And while I’m ecstatic to have options for once, when it gets down to it I don’t think I really want a boyfriend at all. This conclusion came to me when I was thinking about my upcoming birthday party. It’s about a month away and I realized that I’d have to have this multiple dating thing nailed down by then because they clearly can’t all come to the party. And then I thought, “wait, I don’t really want any of them there because then I can’t flirt with my other guy friends!!” Oh boy. It’s moments like that when I realize how much I am not ready for a committed relationship and really DO love being single!
On a related note, I just got a new computer and was importing my old photo albums into my new iPhoto. All the pictures show up in little previews that flash before you, 1-2-3… I realized how many pictures I have of my life over the past three years and of the truly GREAT times I’ve had. And then I started to realized that most of the really great ones were with my girl friends (and without my old long-term boyfriend.) It was a great feeling to know that when I kicked the “married” life to the curb two years ago I absolutely made the right decision for myself. Anytime I get down, I just remember that this is what I wanted for myself. I’ll take the lowest of low days filled with freedom of choice and action any day over the hum-drum drollery of my old, almost-married , settled life.
