If I let it go...

Dating season has only been open since the middle of March, and already I am losing steam. I am no Dice-K, that's for damn sure.

First there was the man who after two dates and in preparation for the third told me he wasn't looking for a relationship because he was coming out of a year and a half of serious depression. I didn't judge then and I don't now, as his issues are his to deal with as he chooses. But spending time one-on-one regularly with someone my age, who is a man, and who is attractive and calling it friendship is not on my list of things to do. Fake-dating sucks, no matter how you cut it. So I bailed.

Then there was the guy who spent 3 hours buying me beers and having a great conversation who hugged at the end and agreed to the statement "We should do this again." An email thanking him for that night and a phone call later blatantly asking him out resulted in a returned call 7 days later. That call was a 20-minute chat-up with no mention of why I had called to begin with. From there I saw him at two work events (long story why), one where he fetched me a beer and asked for my opinion on a mother's day gift for his mom and one where he mostly ignored me but then sought me out to say goodbye and threw in a "Hey, baby, I'm leaving" for, I don't know, good measure? Crazy.

At the insistance of a good friend, I finally cracked and paid for Boston.com personals and 6 weeks later have been on only 3 dates from that little foray. For the most part nobody is interested in actually meeting. Some just email you occasionally and others look at your profile every day or so (you can see who has looked at you) and never email you. One guy suggested a phone call, but then he told me he works a second job at night a lot because he has so much credit card debt to pay off (he's 37 and owns a house). Then I still decided that he might be worth a coffee or beer, and asked him to suggest a time, but he never did. One guy I had two dates with, the second of which ended with me offering him a ride home and then sitting outside his house chatting in the car. Note to all the male readers out there: when a woman offers you a ride home, and you arrive there, you have two choices. One, invite her up. Two, get out. There is not a sit-in-the-car-and-chat choice. Another guy was a fine lunch date but was 26 and British and only here for the year and it was clear from the start it wasn't going anywhere. Not convinced that paying for dating is the way to go, but my subscription is through July 2, so we'll see.

Then I had a race relations fight over IM. I kid you not. He's in London and I here, and over an IM session (which, by the way, I hate more than phone calls) he mentioned that he'd rather be lucky than smart. I said that I thought luck was largely a result of hard work with potentially some privelege thrown in. He asked my definition of privilege, I defined it as having resources, support, and things such as race and gender assignment by accident of birth and/or parentage. He asked why I use "gender" instead of "sex" and I said because I think "gender" is more inclusive, allowing for a continuum rather than simply "male" or "female". He said, and I quote, "deconstructive masking by disguise. egregious pc-ism makes one's teeth itch, or should." The final result of the discussion is that he said that none of his success is due to his being white or male and that anyone who believes that is Marxist. So there you go with that one.

Then I read through a whole bunch of Craigslist posts by my peers (women from 30-38 years old) and found them so picky and unbelievable, that I cut and pasted a bunch of sample sections and sent them to my brother, sister, mother, and girlfriend-in-law to prove my unpickiness. A hilarous day of emails back and forth about the stupidness of said women as well as my sharing the post I put up ensued. There were opinions about which response I got was best and who I should respond to. At one point, my brother's girlfriend emailed "Where is everyone else?" because only she and my brother had responded for the better part of a half hour. His response, "Probably working." Ah, what our bosses don't know.

I agreed to a phone call with one guy who seemed sweet and whose emails were very nice, well written, and was responsive. The phone call was fine. But he asked twice, not once, twice, over email if I had put him under speed dial or only under the first letter of his name. Chill, dude. The fact that you are even in my phone is far more a result of technology driven laziness than of anything else.

I went on a spontaneous same-day date (which every rule book of dating says you shouldn't do) with another guy and had a fine conversation, interesting evening and ended it with a kiss he requested as a test for whether we had chemistry (all lovely things). However, that kiss required me to drive through a lot of what I call stop signs (you know, those red flags that show up on dates and you know you should listen to and instead you just go "oh, what the hell, no worries, it'll be fine!"). First stop sign: when he sat down and I said, "Should we order a beer?" he said, "What do they have?" and then sat there, making no move to go to the bar to get us beers, and let me get them. Stop sign 2: When I was up at the bar ordering the beers he should have been getting, he yelled over, "Will you get me loaded fries, too?" Apparently we don't drink a few sips while perusing the menu together. That was for the 1950s. Stop sign 3: He was wearing a t-shirt, plaid short sleeved button down open over it (that's okay) and wait for it: dark pants, white socks and black shoes. And when I finally saw him standing when he headed for the bathroom, anyone could clearly see his pants were far too short (and this man was 2 inches shorter than I am and last I checked, men are able to buy their pants by the number of inches of length they need). I agreed to a second date with him because he very gallantly invited me to a movie on Sunday night and I decided that everyone needs a second chance to wear pants that are long enough. He arrived at that date looking like death warmed over, and after not waiting for me to arrive at the pizza place before getting in line to order his slices, I offered him a pass on the date to go home and sleep, since he clearly needed it. (To his credit (possibly?), he did share he has insomnia issues and lost his medication on the way home from having the prescription filled). After he was far enough down the street, I snuck back to the movie theatre and saw the film on my own. (Hey, I'd been dying to see it!)

So, here I am. Two and a half months into dating season and already exausted. I might place myself on the DL. I might just decide to forget it.

Then I saw a movie tonight called Away From Her. It's based on a short story by Alice Munro called "The Bear Came Over the Mountain" and it's about a couple that's been married 44 years when she is hit with early onset Alzheimer's. It was really beautiful. At one point, he asks her, in regards to missing a friend at the home who has moved back home with his wife, "Can't you just let it go?" and she says, "If I let it go, it will only hit me harder when I bump into it again." Well, shit. Isn't that the truth.

So now what? If I let this go, again, and not be active in my seeking of a partner for this life, when I bump into being lonely again in 3 or 6 or 9 months, won't it just hit me harder? Probably.

I keep up a sense of humor because it's necessary. And in truth, this whole thing is funny. But it's also sad. I saw a graduation card yesterday while shopping for one for a cousin that said "Remember that no matter what you think now, it's better to be loved than to be rich." Yes. And what if I'm never right and truly loved? What if that happens?

There's a lot of questions no matter how I look at this. And I guess that right now the question is, do I let go and risk the harder bump later or do I carry on? To be really honest, right now, at 10:55 p.m. on a Monday night. I'm seriously not sure.