Hold on a Minute

Today I had a date with M. Yesterday we spent hours rehashing Friday's conversation, and he realized I don't think he's the crazy nut job he was afraid I thought him to be. Or maybe we are both nutty together? Though when I sat across from him today at the quaint coffee shop down the street, he stated, regarding both of our "things that cannot be talked about": "I'm realizing that I can move on from those hurtful things. They don't have to define me. Good things can be in my future. In both our futures." Well, maybe that's not what he said word for word, but you get the idea.

We held hands as we walked back to his car, and I both wanted to squeeze tighter and let go and run the other way. We kissed next to his car and I both wanted to kiss longer and, well, run the other way. It helps me understand my roommate who just got a boyfriend from her own OkCupid connection. She has similar self-quenched desires of fear-induced "flight" from something not bad but very, very good. There are those you date who make you feel uncomfortable because they aren't right for you, and there are those you make you comfortable because you never get below the surface. Then there are those you make you uncomfortable because they see the real you, and that's a scary but wonderful thing, when the real you is appreciated and accepted exactly as it is. M's acceptance even includes my sleep apnea, my lack of a job, and my welfare status -- all things that scared me most about dating with a disability. "Things things happen," he says. "I'm sure you'll be back on your feet in no time."

This thing with M might be a totally healthy relationship. Or it might, despite friends' reassurances to the contrary, be a totally unhealthy relationship. Or it might not be a relationship at all. But he gets me. The real me. And I get the real him too. Our things that cannot be talked about can be talked about with each other... Not just talked about, but understood. I don't want to jump ahead of myself and say this date was anything more than what it was -- two individuals coming together for a nice afternoon of conversation and connection. I'm trying not to look too far into the future these days but appreciate each moment for what it is. Today was a good moment, and he's already asked for another. I said yes, and with him or with someone else, I know there will be even more.

Recycled Matches and Emotional Dumping

Last week was "let's give the guys another chance week." First I noticed on OkCupid that Hairy Guy who Forgot His Wallet on our date last year keeps returning to my profile, so I sent him an email thinking maybe I'd judged his flakiness and hairy hands too quickly. Of course I mentioned neither the flakiness nor the hair in my message, but he must have known the gravity of his faux pas because he reassured me that he would not forget his wallet next time.

Right after I emailed Hairy Guy (I sadly can't remember his name), I got an email from M whom I had rejected a couple months ago. The night of my hangout with D, I got my first text from M, which said among other things, "How is your day going on." I replied that I was about to leave to see a friend in Seattle, and he replied "Is it just a friend or a hot date. Either way enjoy your time." Now, since this was his second-ever text after just one or two emails, this question of his stood out to me as a big red flag. And because D's and my night did turn into a date of sorts, I texted him back something to the extent of, "It did turn into a hot date. Sorry!"

M completely forgot our earlier correspondence and messaged me on OkCupid just like he had on Match. I sent him a jovial reply, and we got to texting, chatting, and preparing for a weekend date. Sure, there were little red flags... He still seemed a bit insecure and nosy about just what my date with D had entailed. But on the flip side our conversation was more intelligent and mutually caring than any I've had online ever. He is also, from his picture, exactly my type.

Things took what I thought to be a positive turn when M returned from a night out with his sister, and all pretenses fell as he, and then I, and then he again, and then I again, shared what turns out to be very similar life stories, in both their good and not so good aspects. "I've never told anyone I've dated this before," he said. "We have this amazing connection," he said. Then he slowly pittered away over the next few days, saying that he was embarrassed by all he told me, and now, five dates later, we've barely spoken and have no future date planned. From what I can see, I have been officially emotionally dumped upon and then taken out with the trash.

M is obviously not ready for real emotional attachment, but frustratingly these types of men seem to be the ones who find me. It would take more than my two hands to count all the men who have simultaneously said they feel incredibly comfortable around me, think I'm hot, and then disappeared. And not just online, but throughout my entire dating life. What is the answer? Do you close yourself off? Become less understanding? More outwardly judgmental? Less caring? I have no answers, only questions. And a date with Hairy Forgot Wallet guy, which, despite my name for him, is a date I'm looking forward to.

Stepping Back to Move Forward

My love life, or lack thereof, has taken a back seat for the past month and has been replaced by literary and career pursuits: an online writing class offered by a NY Times bestselling memoirist, an inquiry into the possibility of substitute teaching, and developing a web-based side business with my roommate. All because my sleep apnea diagnosis and sleep mask have taken away a lot of my exhaustion (finally!).

While my love life has taken a back seat, thinking about relationships has not, as my weekly blogs have been replaced by weekly therapy sessions in which I enter the room with a veneer of poise and always wind up crying and wishing I hadn't worn mascara. Then by the time I leave I feel fabulous, like someone was able to break through my tough facade and see the true me. My therapist is skilled enough to really get at the heart of my feelings and beliefs about myself and others, to validate wrongs done to me and make me not afraid to look at them head on, and her background in English Literature allows her to use words understood only by fellow Lits, like the indefinable "personal agency."

Dating relationships haven't been discussed in my therapy sessions as it's not the focus of why I'm there. However, what I have gleaned from my sessions in regards to dating is that I am drawn to the wrong men. I've known this for quite awhile, but it is a hard habit to break, and I wonder how we successfully break it. It's pretty common knowledge that as women we are attracted to men like our fathers, in both positive and negative ways. The positive attributes that both my father and men I'm attracted to possess, is intelligence and determination. The negative aspect, however, keeps the relationship from actually forming in the first place, and that is the knowledge that I am attracted to me who don't want a relationship. My father would worship me from afar, praising me to friends, family, and pretty much anyone who would listen. But when I actually saw him he wouldn't know what to say, and we'd go days, months, and sometimes years in between visits. I've been addicted to the last season of Mad Men which finally came out on DVD, and I'm noticing incredible similarities between the patriarch, Don Draper, and my father. Don says, when speaking of the children he has with his newly ex-wife: "When I don't see them I miss them. Then when I do see them I don't know what to do or say, and I am relieved when I drop them back home. Then I miss them all over again." My father felt the exact same way.

My father isn't even why I'm in therapy. But something that my therapist has made me realize is that while I miss him, I show no emotion. I can talk about all our exceptionally good times, and all our heart-wrenchingly bad times, and I do it all with a straight face, and just a little bit of a smile. Maybe once I'm able to break through this wall of supposed strength and nonchalance, I can actually cry for my father and subsequently stop crying over romantic love interests who are just as elusive as he was. Maybe this is how we reprogram ourselves to fall for men who will make good companions when our fathers weren't very good fathers. And maybe the memoir I'm writing about the two of us will help me get there.

I'm also reading a good book on the subject: Dr. Seth's Love Prescription: Overcome Relationship Repetition Syndrome and Find the Love You Deserve.