Sigh

I went on a fourth date with 'G' yesterday, and I told numerous little white lies leading up to and during the date.  He originally asked me to do something Friday night, but I said I had plans and suggested brunch on Saturday instead.  After brunch, I faked having to go to work to avoid spending the rest of the afternoon with him, even though I could very easily have worked on Sunday instead.  And when he asked what I was doing Monday night, I pretended to have a soccer game on Monday, even though it's actually on Wednesday.

And afterward, I thought, "Wow, this is so not normal."  It's not normal to have an "Oh, it's just you again" reaction when you get a thoughtful text from a guy you've been dating.  It's not normal to lie to avoid seeing someone.  Not being super excited about going on a date is one thing, but repetitive lying to avoid spending time with someone?  Not normal.

So I went back to trying to decide how I was going to end it.  My girlfriends said I could get away with an email.  And then, I took a poll of some guy friends.  Every single one said that male ego-wise, it was better for the girl to never respond.  Never call back.  Never text back.  Never email back.  Just completely drop off the face of the planet.

I was a little shocked that this was their advice!  I'd be PISSED if I never heard back from a guy after four good dates.  I hate being left hanging.  I'd be sitting there for at least a week, wondering what happened.  "I don't think I can do that," I told them, before remembering I had done exactly that at least twice last year.

Maybe I've matured or grown or something, but really, I think that this last year of dating has made me more sensitive to just how awful it is, for all parties involved, to be out there dating in the first place, without having to deal with selfish, rude, insensitive jerks (like the one I apparently was last year).

So today, when the rain ruined my plans to go to the beach and his plans to do some outdoor drinking and 'G' called to see if I wanted to see a movie instead, I knew I couldn't just not call back.  Here was this nice, great guy who just wanted to spend some time with me, and I was actually contemplating dropping off the face of the planet?  I called and awkwardly told him I just needed to take a break from dating in general (which is true).   I think I probably sounded a bit like I was going to cry (which I did a little later) because his response wasn't, "Uhhhhh okay," it was, "Sure, it's your call, but is everything okay?" When I told him I'd just had a really up-and-down year (also true), he responded, "Well I just want to make sure you're okay," which just made me feel even worse.  Not because I was ending it, but because I couldn't bring myself to like such a nice, good guy.  And then there was the complete and total awkwardness of ending the actual phone call itself.  I may as well have just said, "Have a nice life" and it would've been equally as awkward.

So here I am again, completely of my own volition this time, back at Square 1.

It's Not You, It's Me. Or Is It?

I finally went on a third date with 'G'. (I decided that even though there is a chance that I may never speak to this kid again, he still gets a letter.  Because he is representative of my inability to commit.  Because he is an archetypal "Good Guy."  And because I was avoiding assigning someone the letter 'G' and just needed to be done with it already.)  'G' is the guy that I avoided going a third date with a few weeks back for no good reason.  I just wasn't feeling it at the time.  And after Date #3, I waffled.

Like I said, 'G' is a Good Guy.  The worst I can say about him is that he is from New Jersey.  And that he didn't step up and plan our second date.   That's it.  Seriously, no obvious flaws.  Objectively, I honestly have nothing else negative to say about him.  And this is Negative, Cynical Me actively looking for faults.  Conversely, there's nothing spectacular about 'G' either.  Nothing stands out.  I never wrote about our first date, because other than what we did on our first date (which I planned), there was nothing to tell.  I never wrote about our second date, because other than the fact that he was terrible at planning the second date, there was nothing to tell.  And similarly, there is nothing to tell about our third date.

Now this all makes it sound like he is boring.  Or that I am bored when I am with him.  But neither of those things is true.  He's interesting enough and we have plenty to talk about.  Our dates are totally fine.  Fun even.  But am I itching to go out with him again?  No.  

Hence, the waffling.

This weekend, I went down to DC, and on the bus trip down, I decided pretty definitively that I wasn't going to see him again.  I even got so far as to figure out how I was going to tell him that I didn't want to see him anymore (a phone call with the "I just can't date right now" and "There's this other guy" and "I have baggage, you don't want to date me" type of speech).  

But then on the bus trip back (which was longer, thank you I-95), I decided maybe I should go out with him again.  I thought about all the girls I knew who hadn't been totally swept off their feet on their first dates with their now significant others.  I thought about how many of them were just kind of "eh" about their guys.  I thought about how many of them expressed lukewarm feelings, but kept going out with these boys anyway, and then ended up (gradually) falling in love.  It made me wonder whether my entire search for a boyfriend is sort of doomed from the start, because I want that instant gratification, that immediate spark.  Am I giving up on guys too quickly?  Perhaps.  Am I simply not committed enough to the idea of being in a relationship to stick it out and gradually fall for someone?  Probably.  Is it me and my mindset and my inability to commit getting in the way of my own happiness again?  Almost definitely.

But then I remembered how ready I was to be in a relationship back in January, with 'D', and that sends my mindset theory flying out the window...

Letting Go, A Follow-Up

When I re-read what I wrote last night in the light of day, it just suddenly seemed so clear to me.  I mean, sure, maybe the reason nothing has changed in my life in the last two years is simply that I have been waiting for the Perfect Guy, the Perfect Apartment, the Perfect Puppy or the Perfect Job to come along before plunging into a relationship, home-ownership, "motherhood" or a new career.

Or, maybe I am just a huge commitment-phobe.

Letting Go

Last weekend, I was catching up with a friend I hadn't seen in a couple months.  My friend had all sorts of new developments in his life.  He had a new nephew.  He and his long-term girlfriend had broken up.  He had already gone out on a first date (with a cougar!).  He was entering a new stage in his career.

And then we turned to me.   "So, where are you living now?"  "Oh...the same place as before."  "I thought the last time I saw you, you were looking at moving?"  "Oh...yeah, still looking."  "Did you get a puppy?" "Oh...no, still no puppy."  "And did you quit yet?" "Oh...uhh no...not yet..."  (At least he spared me the "are you seeing anyone" question.  I suppose he knows me well enough to know that the answer to that question never changes.)  "Wow," he said, "What happened to all your plans?!"

We laughed, but then later, I couldn't help but think, what DID happen to all my plans?  Or, more precisely, why haven't I followed through with any of these things that I talk and obsess about all the time?  These things - apartment, dog, job - are all things that are more or less in my control, and yet I simply cannot seem to pull the trigger.  I keep hesitating, stalling.  Sure, they're big life decisions and certainly choices not to be made hastily, but still.  What am I waiting for?  What is holding me back?

And then this weekend, I avoided going on a third date for absolutely no good reason.  I didn't have any real set plans, and it would've been easy to have met up with him on Saturday or Sunday night.  But I didn't.  I lied.  I made stuff up.  And then I made plans so I wouldn't feel as guilty about making stuff up.  I was purposefully trying to stall our progress.  The thing is, he's actually a pretty great guy.  We have a good rapport, and he is genuinely nice without being boring.  And to me, he seems, well, safe.  Drama-free.  So why am I hesitant to move things forward with him?  Why am I shying away from a chance to actually try to have a stable, adult relationship?  What am I waiting for?  What am I holding on to?

When you're single, it can be so easy to cling to the dream that maybe one day things will magically work out with the one who got away - the ex-boyfriend, the best friend, the summer fling, the boy who moved 500 miles away.  It's so easy to keep retreating back into the comfort and familiarity of that someone, even when you know deep down that it would never actually work out.  It's easier to hold on to even just the idea of that someone than it is to get out there, start fresh and go on those first, second and third dates.

I don't think I'm holding on to the idea of things working out with a specific person so much anymore as I am to just the idea of the Perfect Guy.  And no matter what I've said in the past, maybe I'm still not quite ready to give up the dream of someone else, the dream of the Perfect Guy.

Empire State of Mind

I wouldn't say that I'm "rebellious" per se.  I don't have tattoos.  I don't have piercings anywhere but my earlobes.  And, really, let's be honest, I am a straight-laced, J.Crew-shopping, Top-40-listening, corporate-America-working, unapologetically mainstream 20-something.  I know that.  My rebellion takes place completely in my head.  My own inner struggle between being content with the straws I've drawn in life and this rebellious streak that nags at me, telling me that no, you must resist!  You cannot simply "settle" for the status quo!  There's always the thought in the back of my head that something can always be better.  It's that quest for perfection that keeps me continually on the lookout for the perfect apartment, the perfect job, the perfect boyfriend.

And that continual pursuit of "something better" appears to be symptomatic of my generation.  To us, nothing is permanent, and everything is fluid.  Anything can be changed, undone, fixed.  Don't like the college you picked?  Transfer.  Don't like the boy you married?  Get divorced.  Don't like your job?  Quit.  Isn't that part of the beauty of so many things in life?  You are allowed change your mind.  We are a generation of flip-floppers.  When I accepted my job offer over 2 years ago, my dad commented that he had never known anyone who was already planning when they were going to quit before they had even started their job.  I was very vocal about wanting to quit within 2 to 3 years of starting.  Now that the 2-year mark is nearly upon me, that nagging feeling that I should really be looking for "something better" is becoming more and more urgent.   It's pretty easy to hate this job, but I wonder how much of that hate is a sign of true discontent or whether it's simply a result of my own rebellion against myself.  I wonder how much my own state of mind is actually preventing me from embracing and enjoying my current lot in life.

Take, for example, when I first moved to New York.  I absolutely hated the idea of being that wide-eyed girl from southern, suburban America moving to The Big City.  As a result, I really tried to resist the City's charms.   When I went home and people asked me how New York was, I found myself hedging.  I was snobby about it.  I'd say something like, "Oh it's okay.  I mean, you know I never really wanted to live in New York.  It's just the only place in the States I can see myself living right now."  I could hear myself downplaying it, like it was just sort of the default choice.  No big deal, who the fuck cares, it's just New York.  And eventually, even I tired of being such a Debbie Downer about the whole thing.  I decided I needed an attitude adjustment and resolved to be less negative.  Basically, I gave in.  I stopped resisting.  I allowed New York to seduce me.  I embraced it.  And it still kills me a little to say it, but yeah, okay, I do love living here.

So what would happen if I stopped trying so hard to hate my job?  What if accepted it for what it is - a job that pays the rent and enables me to enjoy New York?  What if I actually tried to embrace it?

How To Get Over Someone You Didn't Even Like

My "I-hate-boys" attitude sort of bled into this past week too.

It was 'F'.  No, he didn't do anything.  And I was still, STILL thinking about him.  About what?  I don't know.  Do I want him to contact me?  No.  But I still kept wondering what he was up to, if he was spending the night in, if he was working, if he was out, if he was lonely, if he was still mad, if he was thinking about me.

I guess it just goes to show that certain people can get under your skin simply with TIME.  The longest we ever went without talking was a week.  And of course this week, all sorts of things kept reminding me of him.   Things popped up that I would've immediately texted him about a few weeks ago.  I hate that he is actually sort of my "type" and then to top it all off, we actually have that spark of chemistry.  The kind that draws people to each other from clear across the room (or bar in this case).  That, I suppose, is mostly what is to blame for why I let our entire relationship continue to function in such a dysfunctional way.

Ultimately, I hope to find someone who brings out the best in me and vice versa.  That was definitely not the case with 'F'.  We brought out the worst in each other.  The absolute worst.  As much as he makes me crazy angry and as much as I continue to tell myself all the reasons that he is so wrong for me, it still makes me a little sad.  Yet another failure, yet another disappointment, yet another guy who has let me down.

And here I am again, back at Square 1.

Enough is Enough

Last week was a little rough for me.  And by rough, I mean that I had a total "I-hate-boys" week.  Initially, it was because of this guy who I thought was a really great guy.  (Well, he might very well be a great guy who just wasn't into me.  Which sucks, but fair enough, I guess.)  In a nutshell, we're friends, we hooked up, we exchanged lukewarm emails, we made really half-assed plans to get together, we missed each other's phone calls, and that's pretty much been it.  All week, I was more or less rationalizing away his behavior.   And while there are actually legitimate mitigating factors, at the end of the week, when I received yet another lukewarm, lame-ass email, I read it, frowned, walked away from my computer, stopped half-way across the room, went back, read it again, and thought, well, Fuck That Shit.

Later, I related (slash copied and pasted) his email to my go-to straight guy friend, whose interpretation was something along the lines of, well, this doesn't mean that he's not interested.  I went, wait, what?  Said friend then proceeded to lecture me on all the things he thought I had done wrong up to that point and then advise me on how I should act going forward.  Basically, he encouraged me to play a lot of stupid games.  And I thought even more emphatically that time, well, Fuck That Shit.

Mostly, I just couldn't believe that here I was trying to make excuses for this guy.  That is so not my job AT ALL.  I recognize that I'm probably unfairly taking an entire year's worth of frustration at boys out on this poor guy who just happened to stumble into me at a particularly low-point in my life, but that's kind of just it.  There's a point at which enough is enough.  I have wasted so much time and energy making excuses for boys, hoping that one day they'll come around, waiting for the day things will magically be different.  I guess that is sort of why it's taken me so long to cut 'F' (who also resurfaced in the MOST frustrating manner this week as well) out of my life.  With 'F', I knew from Day 2 (seriously, Day 2) that he was not right for me.  And yet, I convinced myself that it was fun and not particularly detrimental to my life in any way, so I let it drag on for practically four months, far past the point at which it stopped being fun.  And gradually, during that time, this very small part of me started to hope, even believe, that one day, we'd wake up and he'd suddenly be different.  He'd make some grand gesture and grow the fuck up.

So when 'F' did resurface, I caved and agreed to see him.   Every single thing about him that day simply reconfirmed what I already knew about him.  In fact, everything single thing about him that day actually made me angry that I was there at all.  And when I told him that this was the end of the line for us, he was astonished (and pissed).  He kept asking, "What changed?"

Nothing.

Nothing had changed between Day 2 and now.  But do I really want him to change?  Do I really want to be with someone who has to come around to the idea of being with me?  Do I really want to waste my time waiting for someone to change?  Do I want to be with someone with whom I have to play games to get to date me?  Do I want to be with someone that I have to wear down before he'll fall in love with me?   No.  Fuck That Shit.

Life's too short.