In the blink of an eye and the span of a year

It's all happened so fast.

The Doctor sent me a message a few nights ago asking if I would like to get together for a drink. And I just stared at the message, unable to figure out an appropriate response.

And last night it all ceased to matter when The Sculptor said, Would it be alright if I introduced you to my friends as my 'girlfriend'? and I smiled and said Please do.

And just like that, just under a year after my world ended with The Ex, I am in a New Relationship. Two weeks ago we were having coffee and today I am his girlfriend. It all feels bizarre to me. It's hard for me to admit that being anyone but The Ex's feels unreal. Not so much a betrayal as something I wasn't prepared for. I've spent the last five years doing a dance with him, kissing him, being together, fighting, not together, thinking if only we could just get it together we could be so happy, spending a lonely two years trapped in a tiny apartment with him, moving back home after it all fell apart because I couldn't bear to be in that city that was ours. Of all people to know me, it's him, and here I go giving someone else the same title of Boyfriend.

But I too have the capacity to move on.

Stupified

Sorry.

Sorry for sounding like this.

I can't help it.

I'm trite.

I've spent a summer staring at this man who kissed me yesterday and I've gone off the deep end. He dropped me off last night and I couldn't sit with myself, couldn't do anything, found myself lying on my floor, absorbing every detail, unable to form coherent thoughts and only drift into a stupor. A love drunk stupor.

Second date

I can't quite say anything other than it feels natural to have my hand flat against his back, my lips just grazing his neck, breathing him in.

This second date caused quite a stir.

This second date lasted seven hours.

This second date has me wondering if I have any choice, if now I am his. My usual calculated, slow, frustrating dating experiences don't exist in this world with this man. All I feel is exactly where I should.

Out in the open

Of course I did.

I think I failed to mention The Dane has re-entered my life in a work-related way. I've seen him a few times and we've become friendly over the last weeks. So yesterday, when he invited me to do something with him, I didn't think much of it.

Until he drove me home and put the moves on me.

And yes, I could feel it coming. And then I told him, I think I'm seeing someone. Because it suddenly didn't seem fair to allow him to kiss me when I am seeing The Sculptor this afternoon. It's not fair. Especially because I like The Dane enough, but not in the right way, and again, there is no reason to waste time on someone who I don't have that chemical reaction to. That's the only way I can describe it. Chemically reacting.

But suddenly I realized that sleeping with The Dane would be damn good. We never slept together before because I just didn't like him enough to waste emotional energy, but last night it became clear that it could be explosive, intense, wholly satisfying sex.

Love v Marriage

His laugh is different than what I expected.

I arrived and was suddenly struck with the fear that if this coffee did not go well, I had just made my work life somewhat awkward. Why would I do that?

But here is why: two and a half hours later, I got in my car and couldn't stop smiling.

There were silences that we both recognized but we recovered well. And then we walked. Maybe I'm infatuated with the idea of it all, his sculpture and his hands and his blue eyes, and maybe I don't really know a thing about him. Some part of me keeps thinking I need to remember all the details, remember everything I can, because it's important. Maybe it's the part of me that thinks I need to Get It Together, meet a Suitable Man, Get Married and Have Babies, but maybe it's the part of me that Wants To Fall in Love.

Guessing game

Oh. Hmm. The Doctor.

It's anyone's guess.

Childish

It sort of feels like being seven years old and unable to sleep the night before Christmas.

That's what this coffee date is doing to me: turning me into an obsessive, overstimulated, easily excited child.

Walk of shame revisited

This has been quite the week.

I just returned home from another adventure with The Virgin Bartender. Well, not exactly.

He sent me a message this evening saying he had my watch with him at work, and I responded that I would stop by shortly. Shortly came, I stopped in, and he wasn't there. I know the host a little, I know the bar manager a little, I know everyone a little, and everyone stopped to ask me what was up, was I having a drink or? No, I'm waiting for The Virgin (I skipped the pseudonym for the folks who actually know him), I kept repeating to all these well meaning acquaintances.

With nothing better to do, I dug in my purse, opened my latest book, and tried to hide until he arrived. Minutes passed, and finally, mercifully, he was setting my watch next to me and kissing my cheek and then he was behind the bar, fixing cocktails, because it had just become busy. I wanted to nod bye, have some kind of kind gesture at his recovering my watch, but he was busy, and so I left. I walked down the street once again wearing my watch with the knowledge that I had just completed another version of Sunday morning's walk of shame, with many, many more observers.

Will I ever learn?

Sure, that would be great

For the last three days, when my phone buzzed with a text message, I secretly hoped it was The Sculptor coming through with some great excuse as to his absence, even though we all know it doesn't work like that. Would you like to have coffee sometime continued to hang in the text message stratosphere, unanswered.

And of course, today, while engrossed in uploading secret girly playlists to my phone, he sent me a message. Sure, that would be great was all he said.

Did I miss something here?

It's been three days. Three days I have spent assuming, with a flick of the Android, that I created a really awkward dynamic with someone I will occasionally see at work. 

But he said yes! He said he wants to have coffee with me!

Then he said, Sorry it took me so long to respond, I was camping. 

And now it all makes sense. Whew. Dodged a bullet. I suppose I could go into the details, the awkward arrangements - how does one do these sorts of things? After all the dates I've had, I still have no idea. But we're meeting for coffee in a few days for a nice, safe day date, and if it turns out we have nothing to talk about, hopefully we will both be adults about it and pretend it never happened upon our next run in at our mutual workplace.

I want it to be something. But now I'm worried I've mistaken sexual attraction for intellectual compatibility. Can I ever get both? Can I ever not think it to death?

Juggling act

Here I am again with this heavy rotation that I can't keep track of: The Doctor, The Virgin, The Ex, The Sculptor Who Won't Respond, The New Guy From Three Years Ago. Am I forgetting anyone?

My ego is too fragile for all these Maybes, all these What Ifs. I don't like the interchangeable men. I want just one, just one man to contend with, just one person to have in my confidence. I no longer juggle well.

Dalliance

Well, this is just embarrassing. I finally manned up and asked The Sculptor to have coffee. And almost 24 hours later, I have not gotten a response.

This does not bode well.

I would rather him just say No than be silent. Silence leaves too much to the imagination.

And not in response to his non-response, I had a cocktail with a friend, felt a little drunk, and decided to pay The Virgin Bartender a visit. Drunk me is very ambitious. While putting on my shoes this morning I realized I was about to take a walk of shame, something I have not done in, er, years. I am too old for this. I stumbled out of his new apartment and thought I was trapped behind his wrought-iron gate but found my way out, found my way to the sanctity of my car, found my way home, and here I sit, having just reluctantly washed the smell of him off of me.

And I'm not kidding myself. I liked him before, I had to get over him before, and now I can accept this for what it is: Nothing Much At All.

Except. I just realized I left my new watch somewhere in his bedroom.

In the name of marrying well

The Doctor is in Hawaii for a few days and when I sent him a message asking how it was going, he responded in three words that put me off him. The New Guy is pursuing me more than The Doctor, the man I am supposedly having dates with. This sort of indifference is just not my cup of tea, and I have to remind myself that I'm putting up with it simply because he is a doctor.

Call me self important, I dare you.

It will fizzle out soon enough if it continues as is, but since he is a doctor, and since he just moved back to town and I don't want to scare him off, he gets a bit more leeway.

Truth serum: part II

I told the truth to both The Older Man and The New Guy who Shushed Me. And both of them are still interested. The Older Man thanked me for my candor, told me of course he wanted to be friends, but he also thinks I am "very, very beautiful" and that if dinner ever suits me, then he would be interested.

And The New Guy wanted to talk about it. So he called me, then I avoided him for a day, then finally manned up and called him back. And we had a very nice chat. A perfectly reasonable, friendly talk about the latest in our lives and I didn't quite have the heart to mention the shushing, as he was so apologetic over whatever he did to make me feel unwelcome upon visiting. But he's still interested, and while we didn't make any plans to see each other, I do recognize that I did prop open the door a bit between us.

To make a move or not

This crush is crushing me. I haven't felt this way since approximately seventh grade. This paralyzing, crushing desire coupled with the real threat of rejection. I'm not sure my next move.

Sure, I could let it pass, give myself a few days, a week, and I'll return to more rational thought, but where's the thrill in that? I don't want to throw caution to the wind and make a fool of myself, but I do want to throw caution to the wind and find something good.

But honestly, I don't know a thing about this man, despite co-teaching occasionally and interacting from time to time. Despite fervent Google searches, I cannot turn up any dirt. He could be relationshipped. He could be uninterested in me in general. He is soft-spoken around me and I am shy and smiling, upon seeing him two days ago I couldn't think of much to say over the sound of my heart beating so loudly he surely heard it. Can this sort of thing be one-sided? Can I feel so strongly and he feel indifference?

I am a grown woman who found herself last night parsing the few texts we've exchanged - all teaching related - and became exultant after realizing he spelled my name correctly - no one spells my name correctly. I can't help but think I have to do something, because otherwise I will keep building this up in my head when it could be nothing. I have already put him on a pedestal, so now I need to get rejected or get to know him and make an informed choice. But if I get rejected, how do I handle seeing him on occasion at work? Maybe I should wait, but I don't think I can.

The Crush

Did I mention my coworker?

Not my coworker exactly. We both teach art at the same school, at different times and entirely different mediums. So I don't see him too much. But when I do, what can only be described as primal lust arises within me and I spend the rest of my day trying to figure out how to seduce him.

I can't just ask him out because if he rebuffs me, even though I rarely see him, I will be mortified for far too long. I'm hoping fate intervenes and I conveniently run into him somewhere in this small town. So now, I wait?

Truth serum

I decided to tell the truth.

And I think it backfired.

I went on a truth telling rampage, telling The Older Man I didn't think "we are on the same page" because I don't think I can realistically date a sober vegan. Call it a shortcoming of mine. I call it being honest at the outset for once, before anyone's feelings get hurt.

Then I told the man from Chicago, the one who moved South right before I did, the one who I began seeing again early this year before he 'Shushed' me and I assumed he didn't like me much, but then he continued to invite me down to see him. I told him the truth and now he wants to talk about it.

Nostalgia

But whenever The Ex goes away I miss him.