I went on a date last night, a promising first date. Promising because we liked each other, clearly, as we are going out again tomorrow night. He even texted me (before ten in the morning!) to tell me that he enjoyed last night and was looking forward to seeing me again. Promising.
But I can’t lie – not to you, not to myself.
I didn’t feel the sparks. I didn’t feel giddy or swoony or light in my heart. I didn’t look at him and think “Yes.” I looked at him and thought, tentatively, “Maybe.”
It’s not him, it’s me.
I think there comes a point in every perpetually single girl’s life where she thinks she is never going to find someone – and for me, that point came and went a long time ago. Worse, it’s not that I didn’t think I would ever find anyone, it’s that I DID find someone. I had someone.
I had him, and I lost him.
It’s been so long now since I’ve seen him, you’d think I would have forgotten things about him, but no.
It’s been three years, five months, and twenty-two days, and I haven’t forgotton a thing, and I know now something that I wasn’t so sure of yesterday:
I am not over him.
I think to myself, Yeah. Maybe I’m going to be one of those women living alone with her books and her cats and hopefully my daughter will visit me often when I’m old, because certainly I’ll be alone. Because who else could I possibly be with?
But then I think: This is it. I’ve made my bed – I did this. And now I have to lay in it. I have to live in it.
I could be one of those women who drown themselves in vodka and bury themselves into the arms of men they do not know or love – or I could find love. Real love. The kind where they love you back so hard, they don’t let you walk away.
So I did this.
I met him at Paul’s Pasta and we had dinner. We had a great time and decided to carry on our date at Azu in Mystic. We probably had too many drinks, we had great desserts, and we talked until my mouth was dry and my cheeks were sore from smiling. I couldn’t stop smiling.
It’s promising to laugh with someone. It’s promising when you have simple things in common, like favorite books, and movies, and basic human morals. The date lasted five and a half hours, and the whole time we didn’t really talk about anything serious, and that was a sweet relief.
It’s promising to know that I can do this now, that I can put myself out there, that I can be the one to say Let’s just go out, let’s not waste time talking online for weeks, I have no time to waste.
It’s promising to know that I have the strength and the will to try, even though I don’t want to have to try, because I still just want him.
But we’re going out again tomorrow night, and I promise – I’m going to give him a chance.