My roommate and I created nicknames for the potential suitors. There was Wii Guy, Biracial Guy, Indian Guy, Italian Guy, and The Mexican. Biracial Guy turned out to be a creep, Indian Guy disappeared, Italian Guy was too young, and The Mexican is now on my yahoo messenger but we have yet to talk. Wii Guy is still in the runnings, thinking it's hot that I love to play Scrabble and feeling lucky that I give him the time of day.
As you my readers know, sometimes I wonder if I really should be putting myself out there at this stage of my health. I have a more clear diagnosis but at least so far recovery doesn't look too promising, and I continue to get progressively worse. Last night I compared my roommate's MRI scans to my own and discovered my small cerebellum that was mentioned in the report. It relieved me to see what the doctors finally saw, but it also made my condition even more real. Just a few minutes ago I read someone's profile who stated he was looking for a heroine and not a damsel in distress, and I wondered which I am.My roommate and I went to our first baseball game tonight aside from a Giants game when we were kids, and for the first two innings I felt like a heroine. By the third inning my brain encountered sensory overload and I felt like a damsel in distress as I departed the stadium and walked to the car while my roommate watched more innings. The silence of the car quieted my brain and I reentered the stadium as a heroine, all the way up until the very last play as I cheered and clapped with the rest of the spectators at our city's rare win. Maybe, I thought to myself, if I only need to leave a baseball game for half an hour or so, I'm still datable. This feeling of not being datable is not because I'd have to leave something that a man might enjoy, but because I had to leave something that I enjoyed, and that I hope a man can enjoy with me. I now have visions of frequent summer tickets, team shirts, and bringing my future kid(s) to the game.
My aunt and uncle have a marriage that I've long admired. Their 33 years of commitment isn't based on a philosophy of "Til death do us part," but instead on the reality that either of one them could decide he or she didn't want to be married anymore, and that if that happens, they will divorce. While this might not seem romantic, it provides them a sense of security that every day they spend together is by choice. There is no sense of being forever bound against one's will or caught in something they can't escape. I realized tonight that I want to go into my quest for a relationship with the same mindset. My ex-husband stayed married to me despite my health problems because he felt obliged to do so. He played the "nice guy card" and I was left feeling guilty for any complication I created in his life. Never again do I want to be in a relationship where a guy feels bound to me out of duty or sympathy, or out of a feeling that he made his bed so he must lie in it. And never again do I want to feel that for myself.
My roommate assures me that my medical complications, even while increasing in intensity, are not as bad as I think they are as far as my ability to date. "It's a problem if you can't bathe yourself for weeks on end," she said, "Not that you can't drive a car." As I continue to open myself to possible romantic relationships I'll keep her words of wisdom in mind, and I'll make sure that anyone I date knows they have the ability to leave at any time. Not because I'm not worth committing to, but because I want every day they spend with me to be of their own free will and not out of a sense of obligation. I don't want to feel that I've tricked someone into not leaving me, but instead revel in the knowledge that he can't live without me, or that if he did, he would be losing a wonderful woman that he loved.
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