It’s mid-September and my Yummy male companion and I have been seeing each other since Spring, which places our situation around the 5 – 6 month mark.
I like him.
The energy that we create together is pure magic. (That’s what it feels like to me anyway.) The banter between us – that witty, flirtatious teasing – is nothing short of amazing. Time after time, we’d go quip for quip and it’s the definition of verbal foreplay. He and I… spark. Still, I need to take this slow because my last relationship, although it ended over a year ago, was very heavy and didn’t end well. He needs to take it slow too; at least that’s what I conclude after consulting my girlfriends by giving them a run down of his situation with his most recent ex-girlfriend.
He’s sweet. Very sweet. And with each sweet gesture, I have to try really hard to talk myself out of thinking that it’s his way of hinting he wants something more serious. With me. I’m hesitant. Optimistic, but cautious.
I’m usually not one for PDA, save for a little handholding here and there. Neither is he. But on several occasions, we catch ourselves kissing not only in private, but also in very public places. But in these public places and spaces, it feels like it’s just him and me, and everyone else is background. We’re giddy and happy and laughing and smiling at each other like two teenagers in serious like. Or lust. We’re like the couple you’d want to be. And it feels all warm-and-fuzzy-and-butterflies-in-your-stomach... nice.
Being the Type-A personality that I am, I usually like to plan the itinerary for dates, most of the time. But at some point with him, I begin to feel as though it’s less of what I’m doing and more of who I’m doing it with. At the end of each of our dates, I have to twist my mouth and bite the inside of my bottom lip to actively keep myself from smiling and doing the happy dance. But I don’t keep myself from dissecting every detail of the date with my friends. (Hey, sometimes a girl needs a second opinion.) That’s when I realize that I really like him.
Initially I was also dating other people. Then, I stopped. Not because he and I are exclusive, but because, honestly, between Motherhood and work, I just don’t have the time. Or the funds for a babysitter, for that matter. At some point, I’m asked to write a review of a dating website by filling out an online profile, meeting guys, and going on a few dates with said guys. Deciding that the opportunity is too fun and too good to pass up for my blog and brand, I agree to it. I then proceed to freak out and obsess about it for days – to tell Yummy or not to tell?
I hit up several of my girlfriends for advice regarding this matter. Collectively, we decide that I should tell him – it would be kinda sketchy if he reads about my dating experiences with another dude on the Internet. Individually, I decide that it’s the right thing to do if he and I and our little situation are going to go anywhere even halfway serious. That I could stress and obsess over the potential of going on just ONE date with another guy let’s me realize that this thing with Yummy might be something more for me. I’m in over my head here and I really, really like him.
That’s why I was caught so off guard on the night we talked and had what I thought would’ve been the “It’s time for us to upgrade to a real relationship” conversation. He can’t upgrade. Ouch! He has a pre-existing condition. Eek! He and his ex-girlfriend may or may not be getting back together again. Whoa! What?! When I hear this, I feel as though the wind has been knocked from under me. BAM! Just like that. Again.
Ugh. Why is everything always so good… until it isn’t? And then it’s just over?
My mind begins to race. My palms begin to sweat. My stomach begins to hurt. There are so many thoughts going through my head right now, and some of them are not so nice. I’m confused. I’m sad. I’m hurt. I’m pissed. I feel… poo. It would be totally acceptable for me to lose it and say something along the lines of, “What the f*ck?!” to him right now. But I don’t. I try my hardest to remain prim and proper because my pride won’t let me show him that I’m sad. Or hurt. Or that I feel… poo. There are so many things that I want to say, but all that comes out of my mouth is something along the lines of, “Oh, wow… okay...”
That night, I decided to end things with no malice or harsh feelings. But it was hard for me, and at first, my mind couldn’t help but wander off to the possibilities that could have been. The what-ifs and the if-only’s of our short-lived romance. Ah, timing is everything, I’d say to myself in an effort to self-soothe whenever I missed him. It just… wasn’t meant to be. It’s better to have loved and loss. Maybe in another lifetime.
I have GOT to cool it with the romantic comedies and chick flicks.
When I replay this story of “love” and loss to my friends, wondering how the heck did I not see this coming, most of them say something along the lines of, “Girl, I wouldn’t have been so nice.” (I should add that he apologized profusely the night we ended things.) A few friends say that I ended it too quickly. But really, what was I supposed to do?
Throw a temper tantrum? That’ll leave me looking like a fool. Not good, my friends. Not good.
Stick around? Pointless. When it’s over, it’s over. Plus, you don’t go chasing after a guy who’s not completely available. (That’s bordering on chicken-head status.) Not to mention that if I were his ex-girlfriend, I wouldn’t want another chick hanging around my ex waiting to see if our relationship is going to “make it” or not.
Even in my sad and hurt and disappointed state, my Sister Solidarity took charge. And as hard as it was, it was just easier for me to let go.
So I bowed out. Gracefully.
When you’re a young romantic like me, you tend to have an idealized view of many things in the world. Surely I did with this situation. And still do at times. But the lesson is learned for next time. Now when I meet an attractive guy who’s totally my type and we have very raw and real chemistry, I’ll be very explicit and ask him up front, “So… what’s your situation?” And if he’s remotely unavailable or otherwise tied up, I’ll keep it moving. Long before the sixth month mark.
In all seriousness, though, all is well over here. I have a pretty dope life. And when I think of it, nothing will ever hurt as much as the incident with Aiden’s other parent. Literally. And if I can get over that, then I can get over this. Right?
Plus, if I can have these great feelings with this Yummy guy, then surely I can have them again with another guy. Right?