This seems a bit nit picky to some, but I think manners are important. After all, they show the world a first impression of who you are and what rules you live by. Hypothetically, would you lick your fingers (while eating) on a date? My vote is no. Does that make me a snob? With friends or family I might lick my fingers and alone, sure, I'll lick a plate of organic maple syrup. But that's different.
Last night I met up with T. who is almost 30, has a way cooler haircut than mine, LA button down, cuffs uncuffed, like a boy band but solo. I was late of course but just by 10 minutes. That is normal in NYC but apparently rude here. I have some manners of my own that could use some fixing, I suppose. I don't "plan" to be late. It just seems to happen every single time & I see I'm becoming burnt out on this process & may be avoiding.
T. is not the most insightful man I've ever met (when his last girlfriend decided not to move in with him at the last minute that meant, "Shit, I need a roommate"). But who cares? He's in his twenties. He's cute with cute hair and more of a cute look than actual personality that makes someone really cute. Before the date I had a mini-epiphany: why am I being so serious about this dating process? Why don't I just date like I did in my 20s? If I found a guy cute and fun, we went out and began dating. Now, in my 30s I have to actually enjoy his company (a real drag to find), consider him future mate material (who could ever live up to my standards?), and make sure he has a good job (or just a job). What if I ditched that whole concept?
Here's the thing: I could never marry T. from last night, but there could potentially be kissing. I think this may be how men approach dating in general, no? Like if they could see having sex with you, they'll move on to Date 2. It's a theory, but my problem is that I'm not terribly excited about the prospect. This leads me to believe it may be time for a dating break.
Last but not least, the sad news with D. He returned from Panama and leaves for Geneva this Saturday. While I still heart him, of course, I fear his interest has waned and/or he's busy preparing for his trip abroad. I've only gotten one brief text since his return and that was after my message. Perhaps this is a good thing in the end, though it hardly feels good. It feels horrible. I really liked him...or his writing style. We had fun together, or I mean swapping emails and texts.
A great friend, T., pointed out the obvious, which being in the situation I did not see: why is that level of intimacy so appealing to me? I should probably want to talk on the phone or meet in person and ask for it. And though I did, I was pretty much fine with being pen pals too, in many regards. Perhaps as much as I say I want a relationship, there is a significant part of me that does not. At all. How better to get some emotional needs met via writing with D., but not be completely vulnerable by being in the same room? The implied distance creates safety. But there is a part of me that would love to jet off on an adventure. The fact that I have no money, may not like D. in person, and am adverse to risk, shouldn't hold me back. Or should it?
When I half joked to my own mother that perhaps I'll fly off to Geneva to visit D., she responded, "Now that might seem a little desperate, J."
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