In closing I would like to say...

To all my wonderful readers (aka my personal friends):

With the sleep apnea diagnosis and my use of the CPAP machine, I no longer consider myself disabled. I've retrained my body to be able to walk on a treadmill and drive, I'm back to being able to read for school every day, and I've just landed two freelance jobs.

Because of all these other commitments, I'm going to step down from this blog for the foreseeable future. I leave you with the following fun facts:

1) I have plans to meet with Middle Eastern "S" on Sunday -- a 26-year-old recent immigrant student looking for a road trip buddy,

2) I've been emailing back and forth with Pacific Islander "R" -- a hard-working painter, musician, writer who is recovering from war injuries,

3) And I'm planning to ask my white massage therapist "C," who will be biking from Alaska to Argentina, if he wants to join me for tango lessons (with my new and improved, functional body!).

I end this blog with some questions answered. I now know that men chomp at the bit to devirginize a woman no matter how old she is. I know, through my roommate's successful relationship that blossomed through OkCupid, that sometimes men just aren't very photogenic and if there's any inkling that they might look better in person than on the computer screen, I should give them a chance. Lastly, I learned that right when you think your health won't improve... Bam!... you get an answer.

So, lovely readers, don't give up on yourself and don't give up on love. Laugh at those first dates that don't work out, don't try to change an elusive man, and it's okay to cry over things that don't work out, as long as you dry your tears and get back up, fighting.

Whether or not to become a Kept Woman

Last night on OkCupid I got propositioned by an attractive 32-year-old man to be a "kept woman." It took me a few hours to realize that this was what he was after. One of his first questions was whether or not I had anything against dating an Arab, and since he's my age and working in the next town over, I assured him that the person was more important than the nationality. And it's true. I have nothing against Arab men whatsoever. But throughout our conversation he made it clear that to date an Arab meant I was to do certain things for him and to get certain things in return. Whether or not this is true for the entire Arab population in America is highly suspect, but for him, at least as a new resident, falling in love is not part of his equation.

Some women would have no problem with his proposition, and I'm sure he won't be hard pressed to find a woman who is flattered that he wants to buy her sexy clothes of his choosing, sexy underwear to wear for him, take her on extravagant outings, pay her expenses, have her move in almost immediately, get married in a matter of months, and settle it all even before the first meeting. I've seen enough Real Housewives episodes and seen enough celebrity couples to know that these kinds of deals are often made. Donald Trump said something to the affect of: "No, I don't mind that my wife married me for my money. I married her for her looks."

But for most of us, we see love and marriage not as a bartering exchange but as something that happens organically. In our world, a date is made because of a mutual connection. A second date is made because that connection was deepened. Physical intimacy and economic compatibility are important, yes, but cannot be the basis of our relationships and cannot be the only ingredient in whether or not they are a success. I suppose if a man wanted to marry a woman simply to "keep" her as a commodity, falling out of love would not be an issue because falling in love would a nice side benefit to an already done deal.

I can't help but think of Carrie Bradshaw and Aleksandr Petrovsky of Sex and the City. "The Russian" showered here with clothes, fancy accommodations, and treated her like a princess. While I'm disturbed that the writers had Carrie refer to her boyfriend by his nationality instead of his name, and had the character himself fill a cultural stereotype, in the end Carrie needed a man who saw her as an equal, not a trophy: "I'm looking for love. Real love. Ridiculous, inconvenient, consuming, can't-live-without-each-other love. And I don't think that love is here in this expensive suite in this lovely hotel in Paris." I'd rather keep living off food stamps than giving my body away for material security. A true artist finds her own success and wears whatever she damn well pleases.

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.