A tone for 2013

I dreaded writing this post, but I suppose it needs to be done. The blogosphere loves a good year-end recap, and since what I write about is dating... Sigh. Let's just get this over with, shall we?

2012 started off just ducky. I thought I'd found the love of my life; my happily-ever-after. He turned out to be nothing more than a really well-disguised frog who broke my heart and sent me reeling into months of grief and heartache. Thank goodness for good friends.

Then I met a guy who, though it didn't work out, taught me an awful lot about myself. I learned what I really want from a relationship, and what I need to change in order to find it. Plus he took me on a really good vacation.

I also met a couple of OK guys. One taught me that ridiculously good-looking guys could actually be interested in me. A valuable lesson, which helped me to meet another guy.

I attempted a dating nap - and failed miserably. It's coming, trust me.

I went on a few really bad dates. Eventually, I met a guy I really like, which has led to very little positive. You haven't heard about him, because I can't even find words to describe how I feel. Yes, it is that bad, and that is how the year is ending.

Still, 2012 wasn't a total loss. I learned a lot, did a lot, and made some important decisions. I made some bad choices, which led to some good stories.

But I'm not sorry to see 2012 go.

I plan to ring in 2013 alone; home with my new TV, my BluRay (both courtesy of X), and my kitties. I believe that 2013 will be a good year, full of positive choices and options, and new, exciting stories. I believe 2013 will be a year full of happy. I believe that any good I find will start within me. 

So the tone I'm setting for 2013 is one of peace and quiet, and comfort and happiness - all found with me, and me alone. I'm hoping it helps me to find the center I'll need to move forward and make 2013 a fabulous year.

"Your success and happiness lies in you. Resolve to keep happy, and your joy and you shall form an invincible host against difficulties." Hellen Keller

Lesson learned already

"I believe God has a plan. Just wish He'd stop with all the false alarms." 

"They're considered lessons. God doesn't test us, but He does allow us to learn lessons. We keep making the same mistakes until the lesson has been learned."

I was talking with a friend about how I'm tired of meeting all the wrong guys, and while I trust that there is a plan for me that includes the right guy - I'd just like to get on with it already.

I thought about what my friend said, and I think she's right. There have been lessons that I needed to learn. But like I said to her...

I've got the lesson down about not staying with the wrong guy just to be in a relationship. I've absolutely mastered the guy who says he's interested, only to disappear. I'm a black-belt in guys who get into a relationship, only to drop me like a hot potato just when things seem to be going along nicely.

So what the heck is left?!

I have been over and over and over this in my head. It's probably irrational, but I have myself convinced that if I can figure out what the lesson is, I can learn it, and then true love will just fall out of the sky and land at my doorstep. Preferably on a good hair-day.

I know it probably won't happen exactly that way...but if there's a lesson to be learned, I'd still like to figure it out, if only for myself.

I've been talking about it a lot...but I think for me, communication is one of the biggest lessons. I'm just not good at it - at least not when it comes to a significant other. When I was married, the only time we "communicated" was when we fought. The rest of the time, we kind of just hummed through life as though everything was fine. That was probably largely my fault, because that's the way my family operates, and it's the way I was raised.

Since I've learned to associate communication with fighting, I'm constantly afraid that if I attempt to communicate with a guy, he'll perceive it as me picking a fight. Since I don't want to fight - I avoid communication.

Which isn't really working out so well for me.

I was absolutely horrible with Big. I improved a little with Trooper. I got incredibly good at it with Sparrow. I'd really like it if the universe could send me the guy who can help me pass that final exam. I think I'm ready. I finally realize that saying what's on my mind isn't the same as fighting - now I just need someone to help me practice.

Connected to all of this is a lesson in my own self-esteem. I need to remember that my feelings and desires and worries are just as important as the other person's. I learned to not feel that way from a previous relationship (Pre-X) that I never talk about, because it was quite painful. He was simply awful to me - abusive in every way. It's amazing how long we carry some things in life. I didn't even realize how big this guy's impact on me was until after X and I separated.

He convinced me that what I want in a relationship is far less important than what the other person wants. He also convinced me that if I don't give the other person everything he wants - I'm not good enough. He sealed the deal by making sure I always knew how fat, ugly, and stupid I am.

Great guy. Found him at the mall. Probably why I look for guys on the internet now. 

So how do I get over that? There are a million techniques, and I know them all. My self-esteem is a fight - but it's one that I'm winning. I think the big thing when it comes to relationships is not to let the other person affect how I see myself.

I am that girl who lets guys affect her self-esteem. Don't get me wrong - I absolutely have my own identity, and for the most part, I feel absolutely wonderful about myself.

But when I like someone, and he doesn't like me back - the wheels fall off. Before I know it, I'm right back in my 19-year-old self's shoes, sick to my stomach because I'm not good enough. Then I start trying to fix whatever I did wrong - making promises and changes, practically begging for another chance.

I notice it a lot when guys go AWOL. I get bummed, and down on myself. It's frustrating because I know better; I know not to expect more from someone than what he's promised, and I know that if someone disappears, it says more about him than it does me. Yet, I can easily get really bummed over one guy.

If that were any of my friends, I'd tell her to get her head on straight. That she's beautiful and smart, and if this guy was too stupid to see how lucky he was to have a chance with her, then he's not worth a second of worry. I'd be right, too.

So why can't I just take my own advice?

I get it. I know the right person will see me for the fabulous person I am. I also know the people who don't see it are obviously not right for me - and so their opinions don't even really matter. Knowing isn't the problem; I struggle with remembering in the moment.

Still, I know I'm getting the hang of this lesson. Know how? Any other time I feel rejected, the first thing I do is look for validation from another guy. I text a guy I already know; or more likely, I jump online and find someone new.

Not this time. This time, I'd already decided that if recovery was necessary, I would do it on my own. That I don't need anyone else to remind me how wonderful I am. I decided it's time to learn to remind myself.

So I may not have mastered this lesson yet - but I'm just about there.

Time to sweep off the doorstep and grab my hair dryer.

Distance Schmistance

I was talking to my counselor last week about how I've decided that, in order to have the relationship I want, I need to work on communication. During the course of that conversation, the topic of Mr. Ding-A-Ling came up, and he said to me,

"Maybe something you should think about is the distance - maybe it just doesn't work for you."

It's very true that I didn't like the distance between Sparrow and me. It's also true that I'm not a fan of how the distance impacted getting to know Mr. Ding-A-Ling.

But to be completely, 100%, clean-crystal clear on this - I am not opposed to a long-distance relationship.

"I wouldn't mind the distance if I was with someone who would communicate at the level I want." 

"But you're dealing with men?"*

Point taken. I am opposed to a relationship that lacks good communication. It was lacking in my previous relationships - which was at least half my fault - but I was able to gloss over that fact because of how often we saw each other. If you spend enough time together, it's easy to fall into what seems like a good relationship, even if you're not communicating well.

It's not the same when you don't have the option of being together. Finding time to text or call is absolutely paramount, and those conversations need to be more than just, "So how was your day?" You can't cuddle and kiss your way around the fact that you don't talk. The distance actually puts a spotlight on the lack of communication.

I can remember saying to Sparrow that if he couldn't (or wouldn't) work with me on our communication, then it wouldn't matter if he lived next door - things still wouldn't work. I believe that's true. If proximity was all that mattered in a relationship, there'd be far fewer divorces, no?

I won't pretend to be stellar at communication. Intrapersonal communication - sure. I can pull my own thoughts together and easily lay them out in written form. I am less skilled at laying them out verbally for others, but I can usually make it happen eventually.

But communicating with one other person, and putting it all out there, and making sure he knows how I feel, and doing so without fear of rejection, or sounding crazy and controlling?

That's gonna take some work.

*It's worth noting that my counselor is a man - and he still said this.

I'm a snob

I went on a date the other night with this guy.

Turns out - he's really not a jerk. He really did delete his profile because he didn't like the women who were approaching him. He was not attempting to plant doubt in my head about my previous relationship, but rather comment on how impressed he was by the lengths to which I would go to try and make a relationship work.

A few weeks back I told him I couldn't continue talking to him because I needed time to sort things out with Sparrow, and see if it could be worked on. He reacted poorly; he's since admitted that was becasue he prefers to not be in situations where he knows he doesn't have a chance.

That seemed very fair - and honest.

During a phone conversation, and subsequent date, I learned a lot.

• He's very tall

• 

  Source

  He cooks (we'll call him Chef - which totally makes me think of the muppets)
• He has had some work and health issues which left him without a job for a while
• Being out of work has put him in a tenuous financial position
• He lives in a neighborhood that scares the crap out of me
• He does not have a car (currently)
• He's very intelligent
• He's also very sweet, and respectful
• His sense of humor is right in line with my own
• He believes some of his troubles (part time work, no car) are temporary
• He is a night owl who works weekends, making our schedules nearly opposite 
• He sees himself as a "forever bachelor" - so even if we formed a relationship, it seems it already has an expiration date

I told Baking Suit that I think this means I'm too snobby to date him. She suggested maybe it just means we're in "different places in life." Which I think sounds like I'm too old to date him, which is funny, because he's seven years my senior.

But the more I think about it - the more I think (and hope) she might be on to something.

His "bachelor" status is, in large part, tied to his lifestyle. Being single suits him; and he suits the single life.

So maybe it isn't about me being a snob, or getting too caught up in the future. Maybe it isn't about me not wanting to try, or make an effort, or seeing things in black & white.

Maybe it is about me finally recognizing that I am in control. Maybe I'm finally learning that it is OK to keep searching for the right person who fits into my life, instead of trying to fit myself for the the wrong people.

Maybe it's about acknowledging, and appreciating, that everyone will have some good qualities. Maybe it's about learning what qualities are actually important to me.

Or maybe I am just a snob.

Either way - at least I know I'm in control.

Worth a try

When I was struggling with whether or not I wanted to work on things with Sparrow, I had a well-timed visit to my counselor. I discussed my fears of taking on a project, "forcing" someone to change, and whether or not he might become resentful - and was it all even worth the trouble?

My take on it was that it could be one of two outcomes:

• I could struggle and compromise and work - and end up heartbroken anyway
• I could struggle and compromise and work - and end happily ever after

My counselor, in his infinite wisdom, pointed out to me that I was "doing it again" - it being painting things in black and white, and ignoring all the gray.

What if I struggled and compromised and worked - and revisited in a month (or whatever time made sense)? What if I decided for myself, at that point, if things were working? What if I asked myself, "Am I trying hard enough? Is he?" and took it from that point? What if I took a little control, and responsibility, for protecting my own heart, and stopped relying on someone else not to break it?

I was worried that I'd end up broken hearted because Sparrow owed me nothing. My counselor reminded me that I owed Sparrow the same. All I was committing myself to was trying. I wasn't making a promise of forever, or a promise to be perfect.

As long as I tried, I'd done my part.

It occurs to me that is true of any relationship. Along the way, you make various commitments; I won't date other people, I'll meet your parents, I won't get drunk in front of your parents, etc. Eventually, if it gets there, you make a commitment to love that person forever. Til death do you part.

I'll spare you the joke about how that means you either need to love that person no matter what - or kill him.

But until you've made that promise - well, you haven't. Seems like it should be simple enough - you're only responsible for keeping the promises you have made. But it's not that easy for someone like me, who tries to plan for every possibility, contingency, and variable.

I worry if I can keep a promise before I'm even asked to make one. Maybe I need to just stop that; to cut myself some slack, and realize that I'm smart enough to know when a promise is too big, even for me.

It's a lot to teach myself, and will probably take some getting used to. But it might be a project that's worth a try.

I deserve that guy

Things are over with Sparrow. While some big, dramatic, ending would be fun to read - it wouldn't have been fun to live through. I'm happy to report that wasn't how it went down.

We had agreed to talk when we could do so in person. I was torn about what direction I wanted that conversation to go.

The thing I wanted "to work on" was communication. Sparrow does not express his emotions; I'm never sure if he's happy, content, sad, angry. He just always seems indifferent about everything - including our relationship.

He always made me feel welcome when I visited. In fact, he didn't even make me feel as though I was visiting. When we went places he was (usually) considerate and attentive.

But I never knew if he was having fun. In fact, of all the times we were together, he never suggested one. I invited myself there, and I invited him to visit me. I began to wonder, if I never suggested getting together - would we? Does he even care?

I told him I need him to take an active role in the relationship. To communicate his opinions, preferences, and yes, even emotions, a little more freely. I told him I needed him to open up and tell me what he was thinking. I don't even feel as though I got to know him all that well...and yet, here I was calling this person my "boyfriend."

He acknowledged he needed to work on those things. He felt he was probably a little out of practice, having been single for so long. He said he knew communication was a part of a relationship, and he wanted to do that for us. Even if he didn't like it - compromise is also a part of any good relationship,

So while part of me was happy that he was willing to work on things - another part of me was wondering, should it really be this much work so early on? It's only been three months - shouldn't it still be wonderful and easy and carefree?

Not to mention - shouldn't he already know how to do all of this? What if we work on it, and it just never improves?

I kept wondering - do I really want this project?

I also kept wondering how much compromise is really OK. People need to continue to grow and learn, and a lot of times that can come from spending time with someone who introduces you to new things. We should learn from relationships.

But how much change is OK - and how much is enough to eventually make someone resentful? I'd never want to "force" Sparrow (or anyone) to change, only to have them become angry with me. I've had the "Look at all I did for you, and what did it get me?" conversation. It never goes well.

Anyway - all that wondering turned out to be moot. Sparrow showed less and less enthusiasm for getting together over the weekend. Thursday, I reminded him he was invited for either day. That was met with crickets....so I asked that he let me know on Friday which day he was coming up. Might seem unfair - but hey, I have a housemate and I was attending a birthday party on Saturday. I needed to let people know if it was just me for the weekend, or me plus one.

He said, "I'll let you know." I realize the phrase makes sense in the context of this conversation. However....it seems to me if seeing me and starting to improve communication were really priorities, his response would have been more definite.

I'm just looking to be a little bit more of a priority than, "I'll let you know."

I never heard from him Friday, even though I'd specifically asked that he get in touch with me and he specifically agreed that he would. I revisited the text thread - I even said please. [Side Note: Though I'm becoming more and more an advocate for in-person communication, moments like this make me realize the value of having a transcription of certain conversations.]

I didn't hear from him Saturday morning, either. At 2:43 on Saturday, I got a text: I won't make it up today. Pulled my back picking up a 36" TV. Hurts to move.

I thought about the fact that I knew he was going to an electronics recycling event that morning. I thought about how painful a pulled back can be. I thought about how heavy tube TVs are, and realized that was the sort of TV he was probably lifting.

Then I thought....

Did he ever plan to come up Saturday anyway? If he had, wouldn't that have been his response on Thursday? Or at the very least, wouldn't he have told me on Friday? Seems to me he didn't want to come up Saturday, and his intention all along may have been to present some lame excuse as to why he wasn't able.

I responded by saying, "When I didn't hear from you yesterday, I figured you weren't coming. Hope you feel better soon. Take care."

He emailed me on Sunday, and I ended up calling him to talk. I knew what was coming, and I suppose he did, too. The fact that he emailed me seemed pretty bush league, to be honest, and I thought emailing back, while polite, would be cowardly on my part.

There was no fight, no yelling, no tears. Just agreement that things can not go on the way they are. It's easy to blame the distance (and I'm sure it plays a part), but the truth is, we were not communicating. We were not on the same page in terms of where the relationship should be, how it should work, and where it is going. We agreed to be friends.

At the end of the day, the guy I want to date - the guy I deserve to date - would have wanted to see me this weekend. He would have done whatever it takes to make sure he was up here on Saturday. He would have acknowledged how important it was, and made it - and me - his priority.

Sparrow is a great guy. He's just not that guy.

Don't jump off that cliff

In case you were wondering, I have not purposely left you in a cliff-hanger about where things stand with Sparrow. Even if I liked them (which I don't), I don't actually think my life is exciting enough to make an effective cliff-hanger.

The truth is - I just don't know where things stand.

I wanted a break. Right away - literally, like two days later - I didn't feel the same. I still wasn't happy with the way the relationship is going, but I felt a "break" wasn't the best way to handle that. I thought maybe talking through my concerns was the better way to go.

So I tried.

It didn't go so well.

It's the sort of conversation I'd prefer to have in person. That wasn't possible, unless I waited - and I don't like waiting.

The phone is a better substitute than text or email, but logistically, that's tough. Plus I hate talking on the phone. I sucked it up and tried because, you know, compromise and all. I got so upset at one point, I had to end the conversation. I was afraid he'd hear my voice crack. Or I'd yell. Or both.

Talking again wasn't a possibility any time soon, so I ended up sending an email. In theory, that should have worked. I do my best communicating in writing. Unfortunately, it leaves so much room for intepretation - which isn't the best thing in this sort of situation.

The interpretation led to misunderstanding. Which led to some pretty angry words. Which led me to be pretty irritated. Which eventually led to apologies, and cooler heads.

We will likely revisit the conversation when we can do so in person. For now, we're still "on a break."

Don't jump off that cliff.

Shut me up

When I was with X, we joked that I was always in charge. I made our plans, paid our bills, decorated our house, bought our gifts for others, and generally, kept the ship in shape.

I also decided when we argued - or had "discussions." X never had a problem - unless he was reacting to my reacting to a problem I perceived. My panties got in a bunch; I said so; sometimes I said it in a not-so-nice way; this made him angry.

When we divorced, I discovered that a) Those tendencies were traits I really didn't like about myself, and b) I was tired of doing all that work.

I no longer wanted to be in charge of anyone but me. Some perceived this as a selfish change. Being the only-child of divorced parents and a total daddy's-girl, selfish is a label with which I'm all too comfortable.

Plus - whatever. I was divorced. For the first time in my life, I was living alone, truly taking care of myself. Yes, I could ask for help - but for the first time ever, no one was obligated to help me.

I figured if ever there was a time to be selfish - this was it.

Eventually, I found myself dating. Selfish was fine when I was on my own; how would it measure up when I was with someone else?

Turns out, it wasn't all bad. I have no urge to clean other people's houses, or move stuff around, or decorate to my taste. It's their place; they're in charge, and it's not my problem. The whole damn place can fall apart around us for all I care; I can always just go home.

I'm also not interested in scheduling his life. I'll ask him if he wants to do stuff. I'll invite him to go places with me. If he says no, it's not a problem - I'm used to going places solo, and perfectly happy to do so.

As one might expect - men like this attitude. It accommodates their preference to not wipe toothpaste off the bathroom mirror (how it gets there in the first place is one of life's unsolvable-mysteries), and to watch football games rather than be on-time for dinner.

Change is good. Most of the time.

I also no longer wanted to be in charge of when we argued; or "discussed" concerns. The only way I could come up with to not argue, was to not say when I was upset. Rather, I tried to let it sit; mull it over, and truly give some thought to whether or not whatever upset me was worth the argument.

That strategy is actually a good one, and one most relationship counselors would probably recommend. The problem comes when, after letting it sit, you always decide it's not worth discussing.

That's what I did. I shut down. Coming from a family where emotions and feelings are not discussed, shutting down came very naturally.

Understandably, people (including guys) assume when you don't mention a problem, it's because there is no problem to mention. Go figure.

I thought this was probably something I needed to work on. Surely there must be a way to express displeasure without starting World War III? But I would always come back to, "Why bother? It's just easier to not say anything."

I thought it was either a complete dysfunction on my part (thanks, family), or that I had just become an incredibly accommodating person.

Now, I'm starting to think that all that time, the real reason it was so easy to just avoid the conversation is because I wasn't really looking to be in a real relationship. Yes, I wanted someone to care for, and to care for me. Yes, I wanted someone to share experiences, and have conversations. Yes, I liked the idea that someone liked me as much as I liked him.

But now I've found a relationship that I really want - and truly accepted that it's going to be work, and it's actually worth the effort. I find that I actually want to say what's on my mind, without reservation or fear...

....and that I can't seem to shut myself up.

The guy might be a jerk...

...if he continues talking to a woman after she's said she's not available.

...if he takes every opportunity to plant doubt in her head about her current relationship.

...if he starts making sexual-innuendo jokes with someone he's never met,

...yet, complains that the last woman he met online started talking about sex too quickly.

...if he's one of those players who says he wants a relationship - but is really a perpetual bachelor.

...if he says he's talking only to you, yet can't seem to remember very specific, unique details he's already learned in previous conversations.

I'm not saying this guy is a jerk...I'm saying he might be.

He persued me after I told him I wasn't interested, or really available. He has wasted no time in pointing out that long distance relationships are "tough to maintain" and "a lot of pressure" and that it seems I do "most of the traveling."

He did complain that the last woman he met online went all sex-freak on him within a week (more on that forthcoming because it is hilarious). Yet he's not afraid to make little innuendo jokes. Not saying he's offensive or inappropriate, or even that he's not funny - but don't behave that way, then judge someone else for doing (almost) the same. I suspect he gave that woman what she thought was the green-light to let her freak-flag fly. Shame on him for then judging her.

He's mid-forties, never married, has no kids, and doesn't even like pets. Sounds like a bachelor to me. He's also all about working out, and from his picture, appears to be ridiculously good-looking. He works in a field that would allow him to flirt with random women quite a bit. Actually, he reminds me a lot of this guy - and we see how well that worked out.

I also wonder about this whole "I canceled my online dating profile" line. What better way to hook a woman than to tell her there's no one worth the trouble online - but here's his contact information, implying there's something special about her. Do women really go for that? Of course! We love that stuff!  Better still is the fact that, since he's canceled that profile, she won't see if/when he's online, presumably talking to others. If that line "hooked" enough fish before he canceled that account, he could leave it shut down for months before needing to cast another line.

Within a week of talking, he'd already forgotten what I do for a living, some very basic physical features (height, hair color), and the fact that I don't drink at all - which was a very long conversation, and is a fairly unique quality. Is he just a flake? A bad listener? Or is he getting me confused with the dozens of other women he's "getting to know?"

Does the why really matter? I don't think so. I think what I should be worried about is - am I really worried about giving this nonsense up? Is this a part of that single life to which I'm clinging so dearly? If so - why?!

Women spend years convincing themselves that they don't fall for players' lines - then years trying to undo all that damage to their personal lives (and their psyches). Am I really willing to fall back into that trap, just so I can say, "Yup, still single?"

Am I nuts?

And then there's this...

I told you about my fears, and how I gave in to them and asked Sparrow for a break.

Here's something I didn't mention.

A while back I was approached online by a guy who is normally someone in whom I'd have been very interested. I replied, saying thanks for the email, but I just started seeing someone.

He said he was leaving the site, and gave me his personal email in case "that doesn't work out." I responded in kind with my email, saying we could talk as friends if he wanted. Then I thought we were done.

We were not. (I realize now I should not have given him my email address. I'm overly polite, or naive, or he caught me in a bad moment. Whatever the reason - what's done is done.)

He has messaged me several times, and is clearly interested in dating, or at least getting to know me. I've been honest with him - right up to telling him that I was on a "break" but that truthfully, I really like "the guy" and would not be surprised if we try to work things out.

He thanked me for being so up front and not leading him on.

Then he asked if us getting married was "off the table." (I said, yes, it is off the table.)

Here's the deal....

This guy really has nothing to do with my doubts about my relationship. However, I am a person who believes that "cheating" starts long before anything physical happens. Emotional affairs are a very real thing, and while I don't think they ever really cause problems in a relationship, I do think they can aggravate those that already exists.

I've not met this person, and currently have no plans to do so. I'd be lying if I said the attention isn't flattering. I'd also be fooling myself if I said I wasn't a little sad at the idea that I might never get this kind of attention again. After all, this sort of exchange only happens when a relationship is new - and it's only new once.

But did even talking to this person get inside my head? Did it exaserbate what were already very real concerns, and get me to do something I wouldn't have otherwise?

That idea truly horrifies me. Not because I think I've done anything wrong. No one has been lied to or led on. I just really, truly, hate the idea that I am allowing myself to make clouded choices. That my choices aren't really my own, because I'm giving outside influences a power they should never have.

As if relationships aren't confusing enough, now I'm letting the cooties take over.

Love is scary

You may have guessed from recent posts that Sparrow and I are not seeing each other anymore.

Technically, we're "taking a break." While I hate that phrase, it is the most appropriate for the situation. I don't have the sense that things are over, but my heart isn't in the relationship right now. I'm not sure enough to continue moving forward. While it would have been more comfortable to keep him in the dark while I sort through my feelings (so I wouldn't have to worry about losing him), that wasn't fair. I didn't like having that done to me, so I wasn't about to turn around and do it to someone else.

So, to be fair to Sparrow, I told him how I was feeling and that I needed to take a step back and figure some things out. A "break" was agreeable. [As predicted in that linked-post, the conversation was uncomfortable and it did suck - but was absolutely necessary.]

So, why the break? A few reasons....

The distance. It's not an insurmountable distance. Truthfully, I know couples who've survived (and even flourished) with a far greater physical distance between them. My issue is that I feel the distance has dictated how quickly our relationship has moved. Our dates have been marathons from the very beginning, largely due to the travel involved. Part of me wonders, if we'd started with a quick cup of coffee, would we be where we are now?

The fact that we have to travel so far means we're really only spending time together on the weekends. Which means that if we don't see each other on the weekends - we don't see each other. That is not the relationship I want for myself. But being together on the weekends means giving up other stuff. If I'm there, I have to miss out on my own life at home. If he's visiting, then I have a house-guest, and am still not free.

I realize that compromise is a part of any relationship. Being with someone means I will have to give up time alone, or time with friends. But I feel like the distance is forcing me (and maybe him, I'm not sure) to give up more than I would otherwise. I don't like feeling that way - and honestly, I could feel it starting to affect how I viewed the relationship.

Our differences. Yes, I know, I've mentioned this before. I even talked it over with Sparrow. I just can't get past the worry that we're so different, it's only a matter of time before we figure out that we're really not compatible. I just don't want to get invested in the relationship, only for him to decide I'm not really the sort of person he wants around.

Our differences also create another problem: Communication. Sparrow is quite introverted, and not at all used to having anyone around who really, truly cares what's happening in his life. Getting information out of him is like trying to pull teeth. Actually, it's what I imagine it was like talking to me as a child (or a wife).

"How was your day?"
"Fine."

It really wasn't, but I never wanted to talk it through. Thanks to counseling (and blogging), now talking it through is all I want to do - and I feel like I'm nagging him when I try.

Fear. This is all me. I'm afraid to trust. I'm so afraid that I'll get invested and then my heart will get broken. It's not a huge exaggeration to say I barely survived the breakup with Trooper; I don't know if my heart can go through that again.

But an even bigger fear is not being single anymore. How messed up is that? I just said I'm afraid of getting dumped. So which is it - am I afraid I'll be single again too soon, or that I'll never be single again at all? Hey, I promised you honesty - I never promised it would make sense.

I've been single for a while now. Even when I was dating someone exclusively, I never fully trusted that person, or the relationship. I never allowed myself to rely on him. I never allowed myself to think, "This may be be the last person I ever date." (Well, OK, I thought it with Trooper - but I never actually believed it.)

Sparrow is different in every way. He's a kind, loving, warm, generous, caring, considerate, wonderful man who is honest and open about how he feels. I actually believe him when he says he wants me around forever.

So is this me saying my final goodbye to single-life? Am I ready for that?

As I read my own thoughts back to myself, I think, "What are you crazy?! You have a wonderful, kind, honest, loving man to whom you're attracted, and you're going to risk losing him?!"

Great, something else to be scared about.

Who wants to be the bad guy?

I've been thinking about my dating history. Counting a couple of teeny, almost insignificant, mini-relationships (one of which I actually forgot about - oops), I have been involved six times since my divorce. I've been the dumpee in three of them; I ended the others myself.

So I guess my claim that I'm "always" the one getting dumped needs to be reevaluated, or at least deserves an asterisk. It's worth noting that I did not end my marriage. Also there have been (I think) more one-or-two-date guys who rejected me, rather than the other way around.

The truth is, it doesn't really matter. The point is, this means I have fairly equal experience on both sides of the breakup fence.....

....and I've come to the conclusion I'd much rather be on the receiving end.

Yes, you read that right. I would much rather be the one to get dumped, rather than the one to do the dumping.

First of all - The decision to end a relationship - particularly a significant one that seems to be going OK - is a lot of stress. I don't need stress. That's why I have a job - and a family.

Second - If I'm dumped, I get to eat ice cream and wallow in bad reality television all I want. My parents buy me gifts. Friends take me to lunch. If the breakup is my decision? That's right - no presents, and everyone expects me to keep going to the gym because, well, I'm fine, right?

All kidding aside - I don't like being the bad guy. I know how heartbreak feels, and I hate the idea that I'm inflicting that feeling on someone else, particularly when I care about that person.

I told this to a friend, and she agreed with me that it never feels good to hurt someone you care about, and making the decision is scary. However, she still wants the decision to be hers. She prefers to have control over her emotions. She wants to be the one to decide when the hurt starts (and stops), rather than having it be something that happens to her.

My friends are a lot stronger than I am. Mostly, I just want ice cream.

When do you let go?

You know that moment in a relationship where you think - this isn't right; how did I get here?! Then you do the swift, easy, spur-of-the-moment-because-you-just-know-it's-right thing and end things, right there, right then?

Yeah, me neither.

When I look back on a dead relationship, I can see where that moment maybe should have been. Where the thread started to unravel, and any normal, rational, sane person would have cut the string and moved on.

Thing is - love isn't always normal, rational, or sane.

Anyone who knows me will tell you I'm that girl who hangs on longer than she should. When I see a problem, I don't immediately run away. I look for a solution. When I don't find a solution - I keep looking. I'm not suggesting there's anything wrong with being persistant, and loyal, and dedicated. Those are excellent traits, particularly with a significant other. Once I promise my love to you - you're sort of stuck with it (whether you like it or not).

That passion does become a problem when I stop looking for a solution, and start hiding from the problem. Or pretending the problem doesn't exist. Or blaming it on circumstances outside the relationship.

I don't do it on purpose. I just get so caught up in how much I love someone, and how much I want things to work because I believe they should, that I stop seeing what's right in front of me.

I think that's when it helps to have a little faith. Faith reminds us that decisions aren't always about how we feel, or even what we can see. Faith is about trusting our heart, and knowing that even if a choice is a little uncomfortable - or even scary - it must be right, at least in that moment.

That's also when it helps to have friends, who really know you. Who don't judge or lecture. Who do ask questions that make you stop and think, and really see what's right in front of you. Or who help you listen, and hear what's already in your heart.

"Some people believe holding on and hanging in there are signs of strength. However, there are times when it takes much more strength to know when to let go - and then do it." Ann Landers

Here and now

I'm still going to see my counselor. I think he even thinks I might be more normal than I give myself credit for, but I'm not taking any chances. I feel like I could have handled the breakup with Trooper a lot better, and my reaction suggests I could use a little guidance.

Besides - what can it hurt to sit down once a month and talk to someone who is objective, and can give me some tips on how to deal with anxiety, stress, depression, etc.?

This past month, my topic of choice was how stressed I get over not knowing if I'm doing the right thing, and how my decisions to date someone now will affect my future. Specifically - how do I avoid the hurt?

I am afraid to trust, because I'm afraid that the minute I believe in a relationship, or someone's feelings, I'll have the rug pulled out from underneath me - again. But believe it or not - that's not my biggest fear.

The thing I fear the most is doing anything that will make someone else feel even half the hurt that I've felt in the past. 

If I don't know for sure that a relationship is working, I feel like I need to walk away rather than risk leading him on. I don't want to set expectations that things are good, only to find out in a few weeks, or months (Or years!) that it isn't going to work. A big part of me feels if there's even the teeniest amount of doubt, I have a responsibility to end the relationship before anyone gets hurt.

But, as my counselor so astutely pointed out, no one can tell the future. He went on to point out that, because there are so many unknown variables in the future, the further ahead we try to look, the more possible outcomes there are - and the more overwhelming the whole thing can become.

His suggestion is to deal with the present. Concentrate on how I feel about a relationship now, and not necessarily how I think I might feel three, five, or ten years (or even months) down the road.

"Sometimes it's OK just to know something is working right now."

It sounds simple enough...but sometimes the it's the simple things that confuse us me the most.

"Sometimes the questions are complicated and the answers are simple." Dr. Seuss

Different strokes

"Are you sure you two are a good match?"

That question was posed to me after telling a friend about some differences I've noticed between myself and Sparrow. For instance....

He eats really healthy. He loves fruit, and vegetables, and doesn't eat a lot of meat at all. He's also originally from another country, and isn't afraid to try more exotic varieties of everything.

I consider it a victory if I add a few bites of frozen broccoli to my dinner.

He does not have air conditioning in his apartment. Not that he likes excessive heat, but it's an older building and he'd have to put in a window unit. He just doesn't bother, and is comfortable in slightly hotter temperatures. 

My central air goes on in June and pretty much doesn't go off until October. When I control the termostat, it's set at 65 - all year.

He is careful about how he spends his money. He's not cheap - he just looks for value, and is quite frugal when it comes to everything, including the grocery store.

I shop at Sephora, carry designer purses and wear designer sunglasses. I shoe shop the way most people shop for groceries.. I buy soda all the time, but couldn't even begin to tell you what it costs because, as far as I'm concerned, I need it, so what difference does it make? I like nice things, and am willing to spend to get them. I'm the first to admit my take on finances is not that great - but there you have it.

So how much do you really need to have in common with your Other? Sparrow and I share some of the same hobbies and interests, we can talk about anything, and are always (ok, usually) laughing and smiling when we're together. We see eye-to-eye on the handful of social and political issues that are important to both of us.
.

We have similar goals, and I know we could compromise if it came right down to it (he'd totally live with central air, and I will totally budget my money better, especially if someone else is sharing).

 

Truth be told, I wouldn't want to be with someone who was exactly like me. Two clothes-horses can not live together - we'd never find enough closet space. I'd find it boring if no one ever challenged my point of view, or taught me to try something new. Most importantly...if we do all the same things, we'd probably do them all together - and then how would I have alone time?!?

 

So do little things really matter? Do I care if he insists on shopping in the produce section, as long as he lets me shop in the soda aisle? Isn't it OK if we're willing to compromise on the thermostat setting? Isn't it better to budget - as long as the budget includes room for my mani/pedis?

 

Doesn't it make sense to give a little....if it means you get a whole lot more?

Relationship fix-a-flat

Trooper has been on my mind a little. Not in a "Geez I wish we were still together," sort of way. More of a, "Geez, I wonder what's going on with him?" sort of way.

He's been in touch with me a little (absolutely no talk of getting back together, by either of us), and it just sort of put him in my head a little more than maybe he should be. It got me wondering... Is he with someone? Is he happy? What's he got going on?

So, I poked around a little on facebook, and confirmed what I already basically knew. He is seeing someone, and they appear to be very happy.

I told him that he deserves to be happy, and I meant what I said. I truly want him to be happy, and if I'm not the person who can give him that, then ending things was the right thing. I may not like how it happened, or how it felt - but that's life.

If he's found happiness, I'm happy for him. That's how love - and friendship - works.

But I still found myself a little....melancholy? I'm not at all sure why. I didn't find myself wishing I was in her spot, or reminiscing about how things were. It just got under my skin, a little, to see it right there, in front of me. Then it annoyed me even more that I was annoyed, and my focus was being pulled away from things with Sparrow.

Engineer says the way around that is to cut all ties - including friendship - with Trooper. He said that way my attention isn't diverted, and I can concentrate on the good thing in the present, instead of a painful thing from the past.

I wonder... Is that really the healthiest way to handle these sort of residual feelings? Or is that like using fix-a-flat on a tire? Sure, it'll get you from A to B. But it's a temporary, quick fix to a much bigger problem. Eventually, you have to deal with it completely, or your car won't run right. One bad tire can throw the whole thing off balance.

Here's the deal: Trooper is in the past. Accepting that and moving forward is the name of the game. If I just push him out of sight, out of mind - is that really acceptance? Or is that just ignoring the problem - and if it is, aren't I just setting myself up to have to go through this at some point, whenever I can't ignore the problem anymore?

Would it be better to just deal with it head-on? You know, get the new tire and the proper service right away even though it takes longer and costs more, instead of trying to put a cheap, quick band-aid on the problem.

It doesn't mean we have to become best-buds. But if I run into him at church, or come across one of his comments on a mutual friend's wall, isn't that a better way to "deal?" As uncomfortable as it might be in the beginning, eventually it'll just be the norm, and that awkward, "what am I doing?" feeling will disappear.

Eventually, he'll just be that great guy I used to date, who is now my friend - and things won't feel so off balance.

Give a little, get a lot

In addition to the red flag alert, I also find myself having some trouble adjusting to the fact that Sparrow actually seems to want me around. Go figure. Turns out, this is something quite new for me.

See, Big was happy to let me be around. He invited me out and over to his place all the time. But he was introverted, and so was I, so even though we were together, there wasn't a lot of interaction. Also, I was usually at his place - which meant I could leave whenever.

Truth is, I wasn't as independent back then as I am now, so I didn't crave alone time as much. Fast forward to Trooper, and we also spent most of our time together at his place, and not mine. So again - I had a lot more control over when I came and went. Plus, Trooper's also a guy who likes his space, so he never really crowded me.

Sparrow is different. First of all, there's the distance to consider. It's not like we can just get together on a whim, and then part ways to run errands, and meet up again later. One of us is always 2 hours away from home.

The last few weeks - we've been spending time at my house because of stuff going on for me. Which means if I want to snag some alone-time, I basically have to (nicely) kick Sparrow out.

(There really is no nice way to do that, by the way.)

I find myself having a difficult time balancing my need for alone time with my desire to spend time with Sparrow, and recognize that our relationship is important. I'm not so self-centered that I don't realize the relationship can't be all about me - but I also can't exactly schedule when I'll want (read: need) time to myself.

I expected to find challenges with this new relationship. I thought the distance would be an issue. I was prepared to find it a little difficult to trust, having just come through a tough breakup. I never thought about how, each time I become single again, I get more and more accustomed to being on my own. I was not prepared for so much difficulty in giving up that single space.

Don't even get me started on the possibility of eventually having to give up closet space.

Fallen down the rabbit hole

I'm writing this from a hotel room in Montreal, Quebec, Canada. About four hours north of where I live, Montreal is a whole other world. Literally; a whole other country, where they speak a whole other language.

Earlier this year, I invested in my first passport, because Trooper and I had planned a vacation outside the US. Instead, we broke up, and I put my passport in a drawer, not sure when I'd put the money to use.

Until a few weeks ago, when Sparrow suggested we take a long weekend, and he felt we should break in my passport, which was, "still a virgin."

So I'm here, outside the US, in the only Canadian Province that speaks French instead of English. The street signs and menus and maps are all in French, the currency is different, and there is so much to do, I'm overwhelmed. Which, as you may have guessed, makes me cranky.

Yet, I'm here with a man who is totally putting up with me - even told me I was still fun! - and yet, my alerts are all still set to red, waiting for his bag of hair to show up. I'm resisting this feeling, which I probably should not be doing.

Why? I'm not sure. Part of me wonders if it means he's not the right guy. Then another part of me thinks it has more to do with me, not being able to trust. Not really him....I think he's as trustworthy as any guy can be. But I sometimes wonder if any guy can really be trusted. Or, more to the point, any guy who says he has feelings for me.

"Be patient. You'll get where he is, or you'll find his bag of hair." Baking Suit is probably right. The guy who can deal with me being hungry, tired, while getting lost, and he doesn't get angry? That guy is as rare as a Cheshire Cat. So rare, in fact, that I'd become convinced he couldn't exist. 

Finding him really does feel like I've fallen down the rabbit hole.

Signs

I'm still seeing Sparrow. We've gotten together a few times since that first date on July 4th. I really do like him; he's funny, smart, knows how to spell and does not speak in shorthand, attractive, has a job, and does not live with his parents.

He could totally pass the test, if one were given.

He is also very open and upfront about how he feels. That's a wonderful thing, and I suppose it would be unfair to complain about someone being open about his feelings, when I say all I want is for someone to be open and honest.

But I'm gun-shy. Others have been "open and honest"...and said they really liked me....and then it turned out - they didn't. I trusted what they were saying (and/or how they were acting), and in the end, all I got was hurt.

But I keep telling myself that is also not fair. I shouldn't judge a man based on the actions of others.

I also keep reminding myself that this is something I want...to find someone special, who makes me feel good, brings good to my life - and who wants me around. I want to find an honest, true, meant-to-be sorta love.

So I'd be foolish to walk away when I find that, just because I'm worried I might get hurt. The truth is, getting hurt will always be a possibility. If I close myself off to that possibility, then I have to close myself off to the possibility of love, too.

The universe keeps sending me signs. Like the other day, I found a blog post written by a friend, about his fiance (also a friend). I said to her,

If I'm still with Sparrow in a year, [he] can take a little credit. He reminded me that I would really like someone to feel that way about me (and not be afraid to say so out loud).

Thing is, I keep finding little reminders like that. I think it's the universe's way of saying, "Hey jackass - this is what you SAID you wanted, so what's your malfunction?!"

The universe can be so snotty and judgmental sometimes.

Stirring things up with Match

You may have seen the match.com TV commercials for their 'Stir Events.'

The commercial gives you a good idea of how it works. You need a premium, paid subscription to Match.com. When they're organizing an event in your area, you'll receive an email invitation. You RSVP; you'll get a couple of reminders, and your name will be on a list at the event.

(Your invite and reminders warn you that if you RSVP yes, not showing up or canceling could affect your receipt of invites to future events. Basically - match is looking to fill these events, and no-shows don't fit the plan.)

So, I signed up. I wasn't overly interested; I'd already met Sparrow, and wanted to see where that might lead. But my curiosity got the best of me. 

According to the commercials, they organize all kinds of events - wine tastings, bowling, cooking classes, etc. My event (the first locally) was a happy hour. The venue was a small bar which, it turns out, was closed off to the public for the event. Not only that - match had the TVs at the bar turned off, to encourage us to talk to each other, rather than get distracted. 

(They did not have us turn in our phones.)

So how was it? Well, first of all, it really was just a happy hour. A local bar, nice atmosphere, filled with more women than men, most of whom were drinking. Some sitting at the bar, a few at tables, and some just standing around. Women congregated to once side, men to the other (like a high school dance); there were a few brave souls who ventured into the middle and mixed it up a bit. 

Happy hours are not really my thing. I don't drink, and I always feel out of my element in a bar or lounge. A sports bar, where I can watch a baseball game? Fine. Trivia? OK. But just standing around in a bar, trying to talk to strangers? Meh - not really my thing.

But - don't knock it til ya try it, right? 

I have to say - there is one major difference between the Match event and a regular happy hour: You walk in knowing that everyone in the room is single, and looking to meet new people. It's also obvious, after about 5 minutes, that every one of them - even the ridiculously good-looking - feel as awkward as you.

There's something a little empowering about knowing you're not alone.

I went on my own; it took about 3 minutes to locate a group of women who were friendly and, it turned out, a lot of fun. If you're really too scared to go it alone - your invite will probably allow you to bring a friend. Take them up on that offer. No single friends? Who cares! Bring a married friend. Hey, you just need the company, and this way, you're not really adding to the competition. 

If it comes down to going alone, or not going at all - go. Step outside your comfort zone; try something new. Hey - if you're trying to meet someone, and haven't yet, maybe it's time to try something different. Maybe an event like this is exactly what you need. 

If it doesn't work out - you'll at least have a good story.