A little more than a month after my last torrid affair, I was finally starting to feel better about its ending. Perhaps some of my angst came from the fact that the ending, well, wasn't really an ending. It was more like pushing the hold button indefinitely, something I wasn't entirely O.K. with but it made me feel better about all the time I had spent thinking about the relationship and where it was headed (apparently only into the abyss of 'what if').
However unsatisfying the sort of non-ending was, it did relieve me of the immediate expectations that had left me disappointed so many times before. I knew there was no need to check my messages twelve times a day wondering if he'd called. I knew he wouldn't and I needed to know this solidly and without exception to be able to move on. In the beginning, it worked for all of five days before he did send me a message. It was the first day of this new official status for us and he was sending me a message! How dare he, I thought at first and then false hope set-in. We were supposed to be moving on and he was calling me, which must have meant that he didn't really want to move on.
Yet, we kept our distance from one another, perpetuated by the fact that we were both extremely busy but we didn't break communication from one another all together. One message lead to another and soon enough I realized I was making plans to tentatively meet up. In the meantime, I was spending time with friends and going out to new places in attempt to meet someone new. A few days ago, I did happen to meet someone I thought was very cute. And he was from Brazil-- a place I have never visited before. We hit it off right away and those initial hours when you first meet someone new had been forgotten until then. Those little nuances and ways in which you try to touch one another, the excuses you come up with to stay longer, and finally that first goodbye.
Everything leading up to that first goodbye indicated that it would be as great as the rest of the night. And while I can't say it was completely awful it just wasn't what I entirely expected. It was the person haunting my subconscious and it was those fireworks I was desperately seeking. Thinking about it now, it is no wonder I felt so disappointed-- I put everything I've got into that first kiss! It was strange and unfamiliar, which strikes a cord with curiosity and desire for more but in this case it just wasn't everything I wanted it to be.
Nevertheless, it was exciting and I wasn't opposed to getting to know this Brazilian some more. The next night we met up again...late. And after I had already been out with friends. It was probably not the best time to see one another again for only our second meeting. But I was feeling reckless--I needed to prove to myself that I could have whatever I wanted. That was a mistake since I was simply projecting my lost desires onto someone else, so of course when I did invite him back to my apartment I was extremely disappointed at the performance.
Amazingly, I didn't care much either. It was not what I wanted and there was no use in getting hung-up about it. As someone who has a hard time admitting to herself how much she might care about certain people and certain situations, I finally let myself realize that I just wasn't ready to move and it was probably time to start dealing with that.
Yet, what is is about men? If the saying is true, all you need to get a date is another date, then the one who I truly desired's radar went off because not less than 12 hours about the Brazilian, he called. Be careful what you wish for they might ultimately say!
-C
