mercredi, août 10, 2011
Ms. "Unappealing" reclaims herself - and moves on
We haven't met yet.
Not until September will he be in the area. And, in fact, when he contacted me via instant message on a dating site, I almost deleted the message.
My ability to attract guys online seems to be in inverse proportion to the time I have to devote to a relationship right now.
I'm glad I didn't ignore his invitation to chat.
He's handsome, he's smart, he's practical -- and he likes me. We've had some fun telephone conversations.
"You are verrry cute" he messaged me. He loves my "sexy" voice.
So why do these thoughts flash through my mind? "After a while, you won't find me appealing. After a while, you won't find me physically attractive. After a while, you'll make it clear that my potential role in your life is that of a pal without an ounce of sex appeal."
You weren't sure. But you've made your decision (thumbs down) and that is your considered judgement.
That's the baggage I carry from the last eight months -- months in which I finally, after years of caution, dared to offer part of my heart to someone, and got it handed back to me on a platter.
My problem? I tend to privilege other people's opinions above my own. I figure that I am biased, and I bring my own prejudices to the table. Maybe, as Jackson Browne sang, what I was seeing wasn't happening at all. This isn't true solely in matters of the heart -- I figure, rationally enough, that others see facts from a different perspective than I do.
But over the past few weeks, I've made some significant progress, both with working on issues relating to my daughter, and on this past relationship.
Respectfully, and without rancor, I must demur from his judgment. I don't see the past the way he sees (saw) it. I will not deny my intuition, my interpretation of the evidence, and my sense of reason. That is (at least) one bridge too far.
That said, and acknowledging that there is still residual pain and lack of perspective on the "good times," (I can't let myself recall those yet) I'm moving on.
Ironically, demands on my time seem to have a direct relationship with male interest. And here, I have to be a little more ruthless. We meet, we decide to meet again, or we amicably say "goodbye."
It's going to be a month or so before I can get together with the fascinating guy one state over. But I'm looking forward to it -- meanwhile, the phone and texting will have to suffice.
"Darn, you are hot" (well, that's the edited version) he emailed me a few days ago.
I could have cautioned him (as I have in the past) we might not have chemistry when we meet.
Instead, I wrote back, simply: "And by the way, so are you."