Date 5.1

My first foray into the world of dating someone my age has me seriously questioning why any older man (which would be everyone I’ve ever been with up to this point) has ever dated me, assuming I am anything like my twenty-something-year-old male peers. There are many answers to that question, and the rhizome like growth of follow-up questions is good fodder for the middle of the night, blinking into the dark, sleeplessness that is such a common theme in my life. But maybe, just maybe, I am over-analyzing.

In this case, what disappoints me most is not that he promised: “I still believe in being a gentleman and I’m going to do my best to do just that” and then didn’t. Nor is it that he told me: “I find your mind as sexy as your body and I want a chance to get to know them both equally,” and then proceeded to treat me like a sex object. Nor is it the frequency with which he writes “lol” in his texts or the way he says things like “trippin’ hardcore” in an entirely non-ironic and utterly sincere way. It is not that he spends his weekends playing video games and drinking with his friends in the completely typical fashion of every single twenty-something-year-old male I have ever met.

No, what disappoints me more than any superficial, age-related flaw or miscommunication is his willingness to admit defeat: He screwed up, and apparently, that’s the end of the story.

I get that you feel icky about it, that your tummy feels all twisty like your internal organs are trying to digest themselves and your heart is weighted down with the realization that you “blew it.”

So what are you going to do about it?

You spent the last three weeks courting me, staying up until all hours of the night texting and talking to me on the phone, talking about kids and careers and future plans, telling me how much you love talking to me, what a wonderful mother I am, how much you look forward to wrapping your arms around me, how you have “quite the crush on me,” and how sweet it is to hear my voice. Then you committed a semi-serious act of poor judgment, and got called out for it, and that’s it?! It’s over? It seems to me, that if I matter as much to you as you had led me to believe, you might try a little harder to persevere.

Life, sweet pea, gets a lot harder than this. If you always let go so easily of the things that matter to you, it will be a long and lonely ride.


2 thoughts on “Misbehaving

  1. Ok now, sweet pea yourself: I hope you might find a Texan who will court you differently. Unless you date these turn-out-to-be-bozos as blog/future book fodder. Then keep it up. ♥k

    • Haha! I swear I don’t do it on purpose. I would love to write a sappy gushy lovey blog post that no one would want to actually read because it would be so over-the-top wonderful. I hope some day I get to, even if misery is a more entertaining literary genre. Here’s hoping Texas has something better to offer in the way of dates! At the very least, I’ll be warm so that’s something :)
      Love you K!

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