Back in the Dating Saddle

So--let's skip past all the heartbreak. Basically, it all came to a head in late October/early November and I ended it. I immediately felt free, and have felt free since. Leaving Mac was hard, but it was the right decision--that's the stark truth of it.

Anyway, as I told Loverville a couple weeks ago (has it been that long already? time zips by these days): I joined Match. I blame Martha Stewart, because though she is of quite another generation, her joining Match put the idea in my head. Reader, I signed up.

So it's been two weeks, and so far it's been easier and more pleasant than any of my previous online dating experiences. Why? I just don't care--which, I suppose, defeats the purpose ever so slightly.

I've had a zillion guys view me--especially when I first signed up. I was low-hanging fruit and got tons of winks and one-liner chats/emails. My hair looks especially blonde in one of the photos, and I suspect this has something to do with it. (Also, c.f. "low-hanging fruit") That initial onslaught has fallen off significantly since I started. I haven't actively pursued (or, that is, emailed) anyone. I can't be bothered.

• I indicated interest to one guy who responded with an email--but turned out to be as interesting as a stack of bricks. (To be fair, I think the feeling was mutual.) I didn't respond after the second exchange.
• Another guy called me "sweetie" in his first email (which seemed very used car salesman to me, in the context) and I ignored him for a long while until he pinged me back. I emailed him, but I was bored, and he was bored--plus he called me sweetie again. I'm not going to bother.
• One of my winks game from a guy who had the handle "TattsNBeard." Sure enough--scads of tattoos and a powerful beard. I, endeavoring to keep an open mind, read his profile to find an articulate guy--and then I saw the pic of the tear tattooed at the corner of his eye. So much for open-mindedness!
• One guy favorite me, then winked at me, then--a few days later--sent me an email. I decided to go out with him.

We went out a couple weeks ago, and hit it off--hit it off in that we got along great and had an interesting first hour or so. See, I meant to keep the date to an hour, but we had two glasses of wine, and being in the wine country, it's not like you can nip into a cab and get safely home. We had to eat something, and so spent nearly 3.5 hours together, which just killed it. I don't even care, not a bit--but it is an odd phenomenon to get along with someone so well and then think to yourself, "Eh."

There have been other glancing tales to add to the above--mostly along the lines of the wistful older men wishing that my age range didn't end at 44. (I've been dating men who are 10+ years older than me for the last 6 years. I feel I need to dial that back a bit--not that I wouldn't date an older man again.)

I got a promising email a couple of days ago from a guy who shares one of my life-long interests: writing. In his pictures, he looks moody and overly intellectual. (So many guys make this mistake--shadowy, serious pictures, which I imagine they think makes them look sexy, when in reality it makes them look like criminals.) But his profile is interesting, and I'm keen on making contacts in this sphere, even if Twu Wuve isn't the end result. (Can you tell I have a thing for Princess Bride?) I think we're getting together Monday.

And tonight I met a guy in real life--such a rare thing. He was a bartender at a restaurant and took a shine to me the moment I landed. I know … bartenders! He gave me his card on the ruse of trading wine--he's starting a full-time job at a winery in the next couple of weeks (so no more bar tending). I checked out the wineries he works for--and it'll have to be 3-4 bottles of his wine to one of mine, but … I don't think this is really about wine.

I'm not exactly sure what the next step is. I guess I text him? I kind of just want to do it now, and not wait out some silly time period. Because, honestly, I'm over The Game. And odds are this one won't be Twu Wuve either.

And I'm fine with it. If I could be in my 30s forever, I think I would be perfectly happy with the occasional romance and an independent life. But I'll age, and I'm thinking that there's a comfort to companionship later in life. (More and more, though, I find that I crave a relationship that allows for two whole individuals--none of this melding stuff. More on this later--in 10 years, I'll probably have an entirely different view.)

Since my last confession

Hello there.

I've committed the cardinal blogging sin: I disappeared without a word of explanation. So I'll explain now: it was all too much.

And that isn't a proper explanation, I realize. Aren't the best blogs the ones that are wrought? Well, I was wrought, my friends. (All three of you, if you're still out there.) Instead of spending hundreds (thousands?) of dollars on therapy--dollars I had a hard time coming by, since Mac wasn't exactly able to help--I should have written it out here. I may have arrived at the same conclusion sooner and less expensively.

Since November 11, 2011, the following things have transpired:

• Mac asked me to marry him; I said yes
• I knew immediately that it was a mistake
• I agonized; he basically called me crazy and said I needed to be on anti-anxiety meds
• Therapists (and psychiatrist) disagreed--thought my anxiety was incident/issue specific
• We broke up on November 2, 2012
• I was happy! And have been since the day we broke up, but recently that happiness was compounded when …
• I realized Sunday--fully realized--that despite all of his good characteristics, Mac is something of a shit. I refused to see it before. 

Friends, I'm getting ready to date again. Part of the preparation involves getting in shape (I gained probably 15 lbs during all of this drama); part of it involves fully understanding what happened so I won't repeat the same (same same same) mistakes (there's a dreadful pattern here)--and that's where this blog comes in. 

I'm going to revisit some of these key moments: the engagement, various fights/discussions, the breakup, the final realization. It should just take a few blog posts (four at the most), and they may come in rapid succession.

I'm ready to make a change, inside and out. 

Mission: Opposite

Well, I did it: I did "The Opposite Thing." And it turned out well.

I emailed Bill and told him I missed him. Yes, pretty much just like that.

He wrote back, saying it was good to hear and so sweet. He was gutted. He wanted to hear more. He asked me how I was.

I hemmed and hawed and decided to keep things simple. So I said I really appreciated how we had so much in common. (Not very sexy, I know--but wait, this is a good thing!) Then I gave a quick, airy-fairy rundown on the latest. I asked him how he was.

(Now remember, we had exchanged several emails on Sunday before I even let "I miss you" out of the bag.)

He let me know how he was with work, hobbies and ... love life! Yes, he is dating someone he called "wonderful." And of course I felt a wee bit numb at his revelation--numb but not surprised. And I was glad (so glad) that I kept my Declaration of Missing simple. Because really, it is simple. I miss his friendship, at the very bottom of it. He wouldn't have wanted to hear that.

(And did I really want to try again with him? No. I know it now. I feel nostalgic, but it's nostalgia for the friendship, not the romance.)

Oh, and he said he would tell me about his someone wonderful over drinks.

Um, no. I'm not going there. With his rapid-fire responses to my emails and his not telling me about this for (I suspect) months, I don't exactly think he's ready for plain, ol' friendship. Plus, if I were her, I wouldn't want my guy hanging out with the woman who broke his heart. (Plus-plus, the NV is so, so small. And their town has a population of 5,000 or so. No way. Bad mojo for future men I may want to meet in said teeny town.)

So I just wrote back and said how great it all was and that Ms. Wonderful must truly be wonderful because he had good taste. I didn't even touch on the subject of drinks.

I'm glad I stepped out and did the Opposite because it gave me the reality check--and answers--I needed. I gotta keep rolling on this Opposite track!

News:

1. There's someone sexy at work--good for a long-distance, fun crush.

2. I'm writing a guy on OKCupid. I have no expectations, which makes this zero pressure. (If it weren't for this correspondence, I'd quit the site. Online dating makes me break out in hives.)

Do the Opposite

Yesterday I thought I should try something new: doing the opposite of what I would normally do (especially in social situations), a la George Costanza. I haven't actually put it into practice yet, but I'm on the verge.

What does this exactly mean? It means I'll speak up when I'd normally remain silent. It means I'll smile and maintain eye contact for a second longer than I usually would. It means I'll go to bars at nice restaurants by myself, because let's face it: it's much harder for a nice, sober guy to approach you when you're out with your girl friends.

Bill and TOTGA are perfect examples of the good things that can happen when I break out of my usual MO. With Bill, I walked up to him and said, "You're Bill, aren't you?" He stuck by me the whole night. With TOTGA I kept looking at him across the room all night long and then finally wandered over to him (such a brazen move! I was buzzed on sparkling wine) and said hello. I know, it doesn't sound difficult, but if you're on the shy side and if the man in question is particularly swoon-worthy (as these guys were), small moves seem gigantic.

Right now the "Opposite Move" I'm thinking about doing is telling Bill that I miss him. (Previously contemplated here.) It goes completely against my nature. I worry that it'll be unfair: he had a terrible time getting over me. Obviously, I shouldn't tell him that I miss him unless I'm willing to follow up with something--such as the possibility of getting back together. I'm open to that, actually. But what if the attempt fails? Let's say he responds positively. What if we give it a go and I realize that I was right the first time around. And of course there's the possibility that he won't respond positively ...

This is silly. Maybe it's worth it to just tell him that, for what it's worth, I have missed him. He was my best friend, and I know I (overwhelmed with sadness over TOTGA) focused on all of Bill's faults while ignoring the fact that I am flawed, too. He treated me well. We had a lot of common interests and a similar upbringing. I liked him (but was too shattered over TOTGA to fall in love). Worth revisiting?

Out With the Old, In With the New

Crush schmush. I've been too busy to give matters of the heart much thought.

See, I landed a dream job. Yes, please--pat me on the back because in these economic times (and in this small valley) finding a good job is as legendary as a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow. I am still pinching myself! I have two weeks left at my old job and then it's on to bigger and better things--and with new employment comes new people. New man people! Though I would rather not date someone at work, the network is greatly expanded with a new job. You know.

In other news, Bill helped me out the other day. I was working on a photo shoot and needed a hand model at the last minute. Bill is looking good--all trim and angular. While we were talking he hinted at taking someone out for dinner, under the auspices of complaining about meal prices here in the NV--but really, I know he wanted me to ask, "Are you seeing someone then?" I didn't ask.

I miss him some and I suppose if I didn't have this new job looming gloriously in the near future I might have done something to worm my way back in. I'm glad I haven't, though, because I wouldn't want to risk hurting him twice, and though I care for him greatly I don't know that I love him the way I should.

The women I was with, though, later told me he was soooo cute and why did I ever leave him? It's true, Bill is conventionally hot (especially now that he's a lean, mean bachelor machine) but ... hotness only gets you so far, I guess.

Anyway, it's on to bigger and better for me.

Bill? Is that you?

I've been in contact with Bill lately. Yes, that's right, Bill--the ex. (The ex before Guy. The one who I escaped the heartbreak of TOTGA for.) I've been in contact with him mostly because of work things (he's managing some projects for us) but also because of a computer in my possession that belongs to him.

It's snuck up on me, but I am sure you are a step ahead of me and know what I am about to type here: I miss him.

I'm suspicious of this, of course. Why didn't I miss him all summer? I distinctly remember feeling relieved when we broke up ... But sad, too. We were such good friends.

I don't plan to do anything about this. I need to sit with this feeling and see what it's all about. But I wonder if the situation with Guy has just opened my eyes to how compatible Bill and I really were and how good a thing that was. I wonder if, having finally gotten over TOTGA, I see Bill for who he is, all the good along with all those faults.

Usually I think the instinct to break up is the right thing and that it's better to not go back on it. I'm curious, though: Have ever gotten back together with an ex with positive results? Or do you know anyone who has?

Impending Visit from Guy

Guy will be here in a bit to pick up items. It'll be awkward. Did I tell you that he bought a very expensive bottle of wine this week and wanted us to have a postmortem today along with the vino? I refused. He was always inappropriately extravagant with his gifts (he makes only a touch more than I do and has financial problems) and this smacked of manipulation, though I don't think he was conscious of that.

He very much wants us to be friends, and while that's in the realm of possibility I've had to patiently explain that friendship can't happen right away. He needs to move on, and so do I. Right now, I think he's a bit obsessed.

Future dating plans? None. I'm in the midst of a job change (you know how stressful that is) and really just want to lay low for awhile. Ideally, I'll meet a man in real life right here in this valley. Wouldn't that be wild?

***
Update: Guy just left. He was so sweet and all of the things that made me like him in the first place shone through. I feel nauseated and wonder if I've made the wrong decision. This is an understandable emotional response, I suppose. My brain knows I just need to get a grip and step back, and if I need to reassess, then I should do that in a few months.

A Tale of Two Dates

I returned an hour or so ago from my second Match date. It was a fine enough date, as dates go, but how could Guy #2 measure up to yesterday's Guy #1? He couldn't.

Guy #2 is smart, interesting and successful--a good dresser, too. But I didn't feel at ease with him like I did with Guy #1. And that's important for me--the ability to feel like myself. (Although, perhaps that's too high an expectation for a first date?)

Funnily, both dates occurred at the same establishment. If I'm not careful, the staff are going to start thinking that I'm running a business of some sort!

Guy #1 and I have emailed several times since last night, making plans for our next date. He very much wants to see me during the week, but I am neck high in work and doubt that it will be possible. (Plus, I think it's OK to not be too easy at this juncture.) We have solid plans in the city next Sunday. I can't wait.

Whereas with Guy #1 I wanted nothing more than to kiss him, I really didn't have that same compulsion with Guy #2. It wasn't that he was unattractive--he is attractive, but there wasn't that same inexplicable, magic pull.

Oh and last night? I received a bunch of texts from Bill, trying to get me to go out with him. "No expectations," he said. Really? He later texted me after 1:00 a.m. to say that some day I would loosen up and that he wished he would be there. Jesus.

In the morning I texted back that I liked myself very well the way I was, thank you very much. (And besides, he didn't know that I had been on a great date all afternoon!) He responded immediately and apologized. See? Stupidity is what happens when you drink too much and text your ex. Be warned.

Super excited about Guy #1, though. This is hardly what I expected!

Brief Crush

Work has me snowed under, so I have hardly given matters of the heart a thought.

For a period of 24 hours, I had a crush on a local guy--one who is married and therefore unattainable. If you're horrified by my crush on a married man, know that these sorts of crushes happen all the time to many people who would never, ever dream of acting on such a crush. (Heck, I have a hard enough time acting on crushes involving available men!) Anyway, the crush blossomed and fizzled, lovely while it existed. I can't quite do the Unattainable Crush like I could in grade school.

I drove by Bill's house (he lives on a main road) and noticed a car in his driveway. I suspect he had an overnight guest, which is all fine and dandy, since I don't love him and threw him back into the ocean to seek out a better partner. But I can't help but feel a little "Oh, shoot ..." about it. Or I felt that way for about two hours.

Today I wondered why I went out with Bill at all--why I couldn't have just said, "No, my heart is broken and I can't be in a relationship right now." Oh well. It's done, and I tried to love him for 9 months.

I'm off to meet a friend for a glass of wine. It's gorgeous here in the Napa Valley--leaves on the trees and vineyards are beginning to turn and the air is boozy with harvest smells. This is a great place.

(Oh interesting. Bill just texted me, hoping I was still in his neighborhood. Well, well ...)

Are Matchmakers Combustible?

Sometimes I do the craziest things.

I am an altruist--that's the only way I can explain my behavior the other night. (Although "stupid" does a pretty good job, too.)

Remember how I said this valley is so very small? When I became super good friends with Olivia a couple of months ago I learned that she had dated Robert, a guy I had had a very casual relationship with a few years back. (Too casual for my tastes, and that's how I learned--the hard way--that I'm not cut out for the whole modern FWB/FB whatsit.) Anyway, Olivia and Robert got together a month or two after I stopped taking Robert's phone calls; they lasted a year.

(This is all tangential information.)

Anyway, Sunday night Olivia called and said she needed a date to a party Saturday. We wracked our brains because Robert would be there with his new, petite girlfriend and while it really didn't matter Olivia didn't want to make an appearance sans man. Hey, I get it. She had two options: she'd just gone on a date with Guy #1, who she thinks is nice enough ("nice"--such a sexless word!) but there's no spark, and Guy #2, who is more blue collar than she would like but who is lots of fun. (The blue collar thing is only an issue because Robert looks like he was peeled off the glossy cover of a GQ magazine. Though, to our amusement, he's gained weight. Petty, yes, but he yoinked both Olivia and me around a bit.) I suggested Guy #2 was the way to go at this late date but said I would think about other possibilities.

Monday night, after dinner at one of Napa Valley's fabulous restaurants, I (all cheery and elevated on the meal and wine) called Olivia and said, "I know this might seem weird, but ... what about Bill?"

What about Bill, indeed. We'd all hung out the week before, actually, so I thought he would be the casual, handsome date she needed. Olivia, I suspect, had been hoping I would suggest him (did I mention he is handsome?). She said she'd think about it and let me know what she decided.

See, my thoughts were: This is a small valley, Olivia and Bill have both been through divorces, their personalities complement one another ... Not a bad angle, really, but I slept badly all night. I imagined that they would drink too much at the party (very likely) and that she would have to end up spending the night. Et cetera would inevitably ensue. Unfairly, I wouldn't mind seeing them in a relationship but I don't want to see them in a Thing. I guess I realized that Bill might date her to spite me. And that would hurt, even if I understood it.

In the morning, Olivia texted me to let me know that she had emailed Bill. I tried to rise above the creeping bad mood this put me in.

That afternoon she texted to let me know that he was away until next week. And I was so relieved. Later, she showed me their email exchange, and I couldn't help but analyze Bill's response. It was very carefully worded--friendly but not flirty. He is flattered, I'm sure, but I don't think he's attracted. (Yet.)

And why should I care?

Anyway, my lesson is learned: I won't try to play matchmaker for the ex. Not yet, anyway.

Can the Ex Be a Friend?

So Bill (the ex) and I have been hanging out.

I know, the situation is fraught with danger. Not because I harbor any interest or attraction (though he is interesting and attractive) but because I run the risk of grinding my heel into his heart all that much more. But I'd like to think that we're past that. Who knows?

The other night I stopped by his place to pick up something he had for me, and we ended up talking over a couple of drinks. And he made dinner, and who am I to turn down dinner? Conversation was great--we really do have so much in common. But afterward I tried to pinpoint what it was, exactly, that repels my heart. There's something I don't like. I suspect it is something in his character, but maybe it's just a mannerism. I don't know.

Last night he hung out with me and a couple of friends. It was all easy, breezy--though I am still offended that he has decided that I made the wrong choice in the place I bought last spring. Grrr. Perhaps this is evidence of the hurt he still may feel.

I'm not sure we can be friends, though it is nice to try--and to feel fondly for one another. I guess that's what I feel: fondness. And there's a word that completely lacks passion!

A Swift Kick in the Pants

I don't know if you read Evan Marc Katz's latest post, but if you haven't, do and then trot back over here. I'll wait.

...

This is exactly the reality check I've needed regarding TOTGA. And it's not that I didn't know these things, it's just that it's so easy to forget them. It helps to have someone grab you by the ears and say, "Listen, Ruby. It wasn't real. It didn't last. And you ended it."

Yes, that's right. I sat TOTGA down and gently said that at five months, the once-a-week phone calls and rare emails just weren't working for me. I said that I cared about him and wished this weren't so, but that I was not going to be the girl waiting by the phone. (Unfortunately I didn't say all of these brave things dry-eyed. I still wish wholeheartedly that I had held it together a little better. Ah well, at least my message was strong, even if the delivery was weak.)

Why, then, have I been pining over this joker? I don't know, but I have decided that the buck stops here. Finally. Evan's post helps a lot--and so does my discovery that TOTGA is apparently still with a woman who (IMHO) is a little whack. Some men are drawn to The Crazy, and while I have charming, semi-obsessive tendencies (hello hangup on TOTGA), I am not crazy. I don't have time for men who have to generate excitement in their lives by latching on to unstable women--I don't care how tall, dark and handsome they are. (How smart, how calm, cool and collected; how much of their shit they have together ...)

Of course, there is a part of me that hopes (so devilishly) that his situation will implode soon. But a bigger, better part of me hopes he's happy--even with The Crazy.

More Bill

The Napa Valley shrinks smaller and smaller.

Friends invited me to a soiree along the Napa River last night. I was running late and on my way I got a text from Bill: "Hey, I'm at this party on the Napa River. Thought we could hang out." Even though the Valley is small, it did seem a little wild that Bill would be at this party, since his town is a whole 30 minutes away--in good traffic.

I was happy to see him, though. I've missed him--as I've said--and I realize this is entirely unfair. I think it must be day-to-day stress that has me reminiscing about all of the good times.

Anyway, Bill didn't realize I had friends at this party, and I think he might have been surprised at that. (He had to be startled when Very Taken Joe--tall and quite handsome--greeted me with a hug and a kiss on the cheek.) We talked a little, and then he drifted off--rather purposefully, I think--and so did I.

Tomorrow I'm headed into SF for a pre-Oktoberfest party. I had to rustle up a stein for the occasion. I found a cheap one, which I just know is going to stand out like a sore thumb. Where does one find a good stein outside of Germany? Aside from container issues, I have high hopes of meeting someone interesting ...

"Ironic. Frickin' ironic!"

This is what I whispered to myself midday as I walked back to my car after bumping into Bill. I'd been in St. Helena for work-related reasons, visiting a few merchants in town. I had this wild hope of running into TOTGA--who I never run into and who I, of course, did not run into today. You really would think, wouldn't you, that in this itty-bitty town of 5,500 some-odd souls, I'd bump into the guy. But, no, the fates are not so kind.

Instead, as I was walking up the sidewalk who do I spy coming down the sidewalk but Bill? I pretended not to see him and looked at a paper in my hand--not obvious at all. And then, to my shock, I saw him enter the very shop I was planning on going into.

Crap. Of course I walked in and said hello and waved again when he very quickly left. So I wanted to see one guy but saw the other guy instead. This is the story of the last 12 months. The story of small-town life. (And it doesn't help that TOTGA hides under rocks--or in the arms of a crazy new girlfriend. Who knows?)

I haven't heard from Ryan, and that's all well and good. Tonight I had drinks with a friend who is launching herself into a City with the hopes of (in addition to having a new, fabulous life) shaking things up a bit man-wise. I have to say I'm envious. I already met one great guy in this town; can lightning strike twice? She, on the other hand, will have a huge population to sift through--which presents its own challenges but also a whole slew of opportunities.

Missing the Ex (for some odd reason)

Today I find I miss my ex. My most recent ex, that is, the one who I couldn't fall in love with, no matter how much I wanted to.

Which brings me to why I started up a dating blog again, after nearly 14 months of being un-single. The first five months were spent with a guy (The One That Got Away--TOTGA) I inconveniently fell in love with. I don't fall in love easily or often--I dare say he may well have been the first. And, alas, it was unrequited and the situation became increasingly painful. I let him go.

In swooped my now most recent ex (let's call him Bill). I let myself get swept up in his enthusiasm. After porridge too cold, porridge too hot was nice, even if I knew the danger. I shouldn't have dated him so soon after TOTGA, but you know how smudgy the heart and head is after a crushing disappointment. Bill loved me, faults and all. It's hard to throw that away, but nine months later, I had to.

He's been devastated--we've been broken up three months, and he's still having a hard time. The irony is, of course, that I felt for TOTGA what Bill feels for me. Where is the justice?

Bill and I have a ton in common--same interests, everything. Aside from my not loving him, though, I took issue with his lack of ambition. He is happy with the status quo; he doesn't take care of his health and drinks too much. I never harped at him about these things--aside from the not going to the doctor business--but all of this made me feel significantly unsafe. (O Cliche! I am a woman who desires security.)

I liked Bill, but there was too much pressure. If he could have reeled in the declarations of love (and etc.) I might have been able to stay on longer. Then again, at nine months if a girl knows this just won't pan out, it's better to move on.

Still, I miss him, and today is his birthday.