V Day

I've written about BBQ before. He's the only man I've met in person during my Dating Scheme 2013--the rest are online catches.

Quick recap:
1. We met at a BBQ (hence the name--I called him Wino before, because he's in the industry, but decided that wasn't too flattering)
2. First date: his favorite restaurant in Napa where we had a nice time. No sparks but I'm willing to be surprised, right?
3. Second date: hike and dinner at a country club. Said hike lasted all of 30 minutes; BBQ was huffing and puffing so hard I thought he might have a cardiac event. He claimed several times he would be "so sore" the next day. I was completely incredulous and really had to work at it not to laugh! (Shame on me, but I come from a family of hardier stock where the men are always challenging each other to mock feats of strength and endurance.)
4. Third date: a walk along the river and dinner at a Mexican restaurant. And this is the setting for the tale I want to tell.

In between these dates there were a flurry of emails. The first came on the day I met BBQ--it was a long missive. He was so excited to have met me his hopefulness practically effervesced from the page. (I don't mean to mock him--how wonderful to be so optimistic upon meeting that he's already built up a grand idea of who I am! Wonderful for him--not so much for me.) After the first date, where I told him lightly that I had been engaged last year and was taking things slowing, dating other men, he sent me an email begging me to give the relationship a chance.

Now, I don't think you can (or should) hinge a person's intentions on one word, but through our interactions it became increasingly clear that he was vividly imagining a relationship with me. Whoa boy!

Why didn't I just say, "Hey, we're not on the same page and you can't even hike a semi-hilly terrain for 30 minutes. Adios!"? Because I need to date all sorts of people (I guess)--"my type" keeps turning out to be not my type. I keep feeling like the cruel, careless guy in these interactions. (Why? because I'm simply not in love.) Maybe, I think, if I just hang in there long enough … Maybe if I agree to go on dates with guys I normally wouldn't go out with I'll be surprised. (Spoiler alert: I haven't been surprised. But neither am I jaded. Promise.)

Anyway, one of the email interactions addressed kiddos. BBQ has one wee lad and no interest in any more. "And he doesn't need a mom; he already has one," he said. No problem here. I am 95% sure I don't want kids--that 5% is reserved for the off chance that I meet a guy who sweeps me off my feet and wants kids really badly. (And because he's so great and gives me time to myself and doesn't expect me to be something/someone I'm not, I agree to have kiddos and thus lose my free time but it doesn't matter--not in this pretend scenario.)

So BBQ and I are sitting at a table overlooking the river and I order these perfectly awful fish tacos. I ask him what he's doing for the long weekend. "Oh, probably just hanging around the house. There's a golf game I want to catch." This seems a little strange, but it also seems as though BBQ doesn't have a friend group. Then he continues, "I'm, um, having a procedure tomorrow and will need to lay low." Ah, I say. I know immediately that he's having a vasectomy, and I don't want to talk about it so try other lines of conversation.

Somehow, despite my best efforts, it comes out anyway: "I'm having a vasectomy."

"Good for you," I say, wishing I'd ordered a margarita instead of a beer.

He doesn't leave it at that, though. He describes how he's stocked up on bourbon and made sure he has spare icepacks in the freezer. "And," he says meaningfully (was that a wiggle of the eyebrows?!), "it'll take two month for everything to test, you know, clear." He makes a swishing motion with his hand. Christ.

First of all, I know this. I had a boyfriend with a vasectomy once upon a time. Secondly, though of stalwart medical background, I just don't want to talk about sperm over terrible fish tacos. Most pointedly, his sperm. Not a good sign.

In all seriousness, I realized that this was the kind of conversation that would be welcomed (and necessary) in a relationship-type situation. I wasn't there; evidently he was. The next day, post-surgery, he updated me with his status: "Ice pack and bourbon." And the day after that, he extended that invitation of joining him in his living room on a beautiful Saturday to watch TV: "I'll be on the couch with my ice pack." OMG. I said thank you, no, I was going to San Francisco for the day.

Fast forward to now: we've parted amicably. I think we're on good, friendly terms--I was honest without being cruel. Connections are important to keep in this too-small valley, after all.

Discussions and Repercussions

Something happened yesterday that is a perfect introduction into all the lovely discussions Mac and I had over the months of our relationship.

(Brief recap for anyone just joining in on the fun: despite my misgivings, I agreed to marry my boyfriend Mac last March--we subsequently broke up, and in a few posts I'm hashing it all out, with the idea that I'll learn from my mistakes, never to repeat them again. Amen.)

Midday yesterday I got a text from Mac. We have been in touch now and then since our breakup in early November--usually he's trying to win me back by declaring his love. More thoughtfully, he sent his condolences on the passing of a close relative a few weeks ago.

Yesterday, he texted me to find out if I was going to an art opening that night--because he wanted to avoid me. Ugh. Seven months post breakup, I feel this is crazy. It's true, the NV is small and one is liable to bump into all sorts of people, and our mutual friend owns this gallery … but it's been 6 months. I think we need to be mature enough to live and let live.

I responded with, "No, but Mac, this is ridiculous!" I was proud of my calling a turd a turd.

This inspired quite an exchange. And, of course, text is no place to argue. (But it also so happens that Mac doesn't listen in face-to-face "discussions," either--at least this way he can go back and read our thread, if he's so inclined.)

The issues we hashed out over text were the same ones we fought over in person, though Mac did apologize for telling me way back when that I "worried too much." (And it was more than that, folks. He actually very forcefully said--over and over--that I needed to be medicated for anxiety! I could have left him on that score alone. Not, mind you, that I have any problem with mediation--I just wasn't clinically anxious.)

The issues:

• He loved me. Couldn't I see that?! Apparently I need to remind him that I do not love him--I've done so before, but didn't bother yesterday. I only said that I thought he loved a version of me that doesn't exist. (Arguing in this way serves no purpose, I realize.)
• I need to have some faith in him! In the course of two years he didn't retain a part-time job, knowing what was at stake--i.e. our relationship; he didn't complete his bankruptcy proceedings (that's a whole other issue). I'm not so blind that I can't see writing on the wall.
• He wasn't going to let me be poor! This was a strange red herring, since, though I'm not anywhere near rich, I was definitely the money bags in this relationship. I don't know how he was "not going to let me be poor" since he had too much pride to get even the most humble of jobs. 
• [this from me] He stated once that he was attracted to successful women. "What if I'm attracted to successful men?" "You got me there," was his response. {History shows that I'm not attracted to successful men, however--at least in the short term. Gotta change that because the starving artist thing is not working.}

This was all "discussed" over the course of an hour. It was kind of ugly, but I didn't care--we had argued these points before, and at least with text, Mac didn't get on a wild streak and talk and talk and talk so I could not get a word in edgewise. 

In the end, he sent me a picture of a new artist's studio he's rented, and said, "Bye." I bet he's been dying to do that for weeks! My guess is his family is paying for it. 

I want him to be successful, but his success won't make me attracted to him again.

Anyway, these are the things we talked about over and over, from our engagement in Marge 2012 to our eventual breakup in November 2012. I was too kind. I expected him to understand things about me that he wouldn't--because he wanted me so much that he refused to see that we were not right for each other. 

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. 

Romance or Chemistry?

Anon. left a great question on my previous post--why stay friends? I'm not sure if the question is "Why bother?" or "Why did you decide to go the friend route?" I'm going with the second interpretation. (If I'm wrong, let me know.)

And here's what I find interesting and perplexing: A/S said he didn't feel the romance on the second date. I said, "Isn't romance something you build up to in a relationship?" And he said no. That in his experience, physical attraction, even, could develop later but romance is always there from the beginning.

Yeah.

So even though I am still really impressed with his contacting me ... I think I dodged a bullet. OR maybe to him "chemistry" and "romance" are interchangeable? I'd understand that. You feel it or you don't. (But I think we all run the chance of erring with dismissing too quickly. How many happily coupled/married people do you know who say, "Yeah, I totally didn't get him at first. Couldn't stand him." I know several.)

But in other news, I am definitely feeling chemistry/romance/whatever with my coworker (CW)! (Too complicated. Ugh.) I can't discern his status and the tale there is too juicy to ask another coworker, lest the gossip start. When I look at CW he practically glows I'm so attracted to him. I know: gross. I only mention this because it's such a rare thing, me being that attracted to a guy.

He and I don't work together much, but we met today briefly to discuss a project and ... I think he tried to impress me a little. I allowed myself to be impressed--a little. (This is something I need to work on. I used to pride myself in "not pandering to the male ego." I'm so ashamed to admit it, but it explains a lot about my dating history. Oops! I didn't mean to be a bitch.) I know I am getting older because I love the lines on his face. (He's in his 30s like me.)

I'm just going to let that one coast. Meanwhile, I'm communicating with two guys on OKCupid (I know--two whole guys!). I desperately need to revamp my profile.

Single in the Valley--Again!

I need to be honest: TOTGA is a red herring and definitely not the real issue with Guy and me. TOTGA may have been handsome and brooding but he's not in the picture and therefore is not a real contender for my affections. (I feel very Jane Austen writing the word "affections.")

Last night I broke up with Guy because the truth is, I couldn't love him--no matter what the previous post stated. (Sometimes I'm full of it--a terribly unreliable narrator, the kind of narrator I happen to like the best.) He also had some issues, some qualities that I couldn't deal with.

He was needy. It's interesting to me that there are all of these advice books and dating sites geared toward women and all the things we do wrong in relationships. You know what? Guys can do them too: they can lay all their cards on the table too soon, call too much, display shocking insecurity. On one hand, it's a relief to know that we women don't have the crazy market cornered and on the other hand it's a big pain to date one of these guys. Yes, he called me (often) twice a night. Yes, he actually said that he was jealous of my girlfriends--who I hardly see! Yes, he wanted more of my time.

He had financial issues. I may have been nine years younger than Guy, but I had more of my shit together than he. I am not wealthy and sometimes my credit card runs a balance, but I try to live within my means and save, and I aspire to a more comfortable financial situation.

The circumstances of his divorce were a red flag. Yeah, divorce is difficult--always--and I don't pretend to know the full details. But through a carefully asked question last week I discovered that he just sort of stopped going home. No affair, no big declaration (until papers were finally signed, of course)--just a wasting away. I find it distasteful and the sort of thing that could repeat.

He had no social network. Guy had two friends--two. One nearby; one in another country. Don't get me wrong, Guy is a sweet person but somehow, through shyness or whathaveyou, he just hasn't formed more friendships. (Interestingly, my last three relationships have been with men who haven't had very many friends. Hmmm!)

He was awkward in social situations. He glommed onto me, and I felt suffocated. Enough said.

It seems like there was more, but I don't remember what it was at the moment.

So what next? I'm not going to hop back onto Match right away. I feel like I need to push the reset button and take a good look at what I'm attracted to. Why have I been dating the same guy? Older but full of issues? Next time around I would like to try someone who's outgoing--a real sparkler. And next time I'll take my time before launching into a relationship.

The End of Amore

Things have been changing rapidly these last few days.

Over the last week or so I have realized that Guy is far more needy (and passive aggressive!) than I ever realized. The core problem was that he wanted to see me more than just weekends. (We did see each other several times a week until recently, when he offered--he offered!--to give me more space during the week.) I wanted to see him on weekends--my most cherished days of the week--because after long days at work, I couldn't bear being around someone who, well, wanted me body and soul. Too much pressure!

This sounds cruel. It is cruel. I explained to Guy that I wasn't as far along in the feelings department as he was and couldn't we slow down a bit? There were many discussions, some awful passive aggression and finally, tonight, he said that he just couldn't do it: people in a relationship need to be together. He said it wasn't right that he had to make all of the sacrifices. And et cetera.

He broke up with me.

It's true that I wasn't in love, but I liked him and would have happily stayed with him (until the neediness and PA became so evident) for quite awhile.

Tomorrow he's coming to pick up his stuff. Blech.