Early in the week I began my search for date#11. Begrudgingly I sent messages to random men whom I was absolutely certain, I had no interest in. By Tuesday night I had set up date#11 and we decided to meet at Verve for coffee at 7:00 on Friday night. At about 6:30 I left my house to accomplish the task at hand, I had a duty. I felt ridiculous. For the last two years, I have made a daily practice of doing things I feel are good and right for me. I wasn't so sure that this date fell into that category. My moral compass is based on my gut and I avoid pursing anything that I know is not in my best interest. The trouble is, I am torn about which is the right path to follow at this juncture. I said to myself over and over, sometimes out loud, “What the hell am I doing? What is wrong with me?”
Before I left the house I had talked to date#10 who I will now refer to as mr.ten, on the phone. He asked if I had a date set up, I said yes. I asked him what his plans were for the evening, nothing he said, laundry probably........oh god, how could I hold back? I wanted to be with him, not with the date I had lined up. The usual plan lacked luster when it came to meeting up with date#11. I wanted to see mr.ten. I put myself out there once again. I felt awkward, silly and very vulnerable. You wanna meet up after my date?”, I said. “Yes”, he replied. I told him I’d text him when I was done and I expected it being a very short coffee date. I suggested we could get dinner. I got off the phone and my head began to spin. What was I doing? I was caught between reality and my feelings. How on earth was I ever going to continue dating, when I am so taken by this man who is truly receiving all I’ve got. On one hand, I know I can’t give up the project. It just doesn't seem like the right solution. I am not willing to give up writing the story of this process or the fact that on some level I still believe it might be helping me to keep my eyes open and slow down the process of committing before I’m ready. However, I worry that this will push him away. I am sacred of the fact that the project demands me to think and act differently. It is very uncomfortable. I find myself bargaining and brainstorming how to get out of the subsequent dates. I mean, I can’t deny I am intensely into and intrigued by mr.ten. Ultimately I decided to laugh hysterically at the position I was finding myself in, and ride the wave. I obviously had no answers and the only way to get them is trial and error.
I sat at the coffee shop looking out the window in anticipation of date#11. I tracked the the minutes passing, 7:00,7:01,7:02, 7:03, I wondered how late he needed to be before I could just abort this mission? I couldn’t remember his name or if he had even revealed it to me in the first place. I couldn't remember what he looked like either. I needed to review my messages on my okcupid mobile app. just to refresh my memory. He walked in the door, and the part where I would usually feel a sense of relief and think let the games begin, I thought ok lets get this over with. He came over said hello and then got in line to get coffee. He’s 28 but he looked about 19. We talked about god knows what, but we did agree that meeting in person is the best way to navigate okcupid. He mentioned that he joined okcupid a few years ago when he lived in Chicago. He and his girlfriend wanted to open up their relationship. He stated very boldly that it worked out better for him than it did for her. He said that she developed a case of the “internet awkwards”. I asked him to explain what he meant. He said “you're kidding right?” “No”, I replied. He described it as having anxiety about not knowing how to start things up with a stranger you have never met. I said that I had never felt that way, he looked at me in disbelief. I was clearly challenging the commonality of his theory and he wasn’t too fond of my dissension. He mentioned that he moved to Santa Cruz as a result of his life tumbling down into a routine of the mundane while living in the suburbs of Mountain View, upon returning to California. He explained that when he was in his late teens and early twenties, he was constantly meeting exciting people and experiencing synchronicities, that he deemed valuable and the only reason worth living. Then one day, after he had turned 23 it all stopped. According to him, his life had become boring. The way he explained it, I had no idea what he was talking about. I asked him what he thought caused this sudden change in events, and what did he mean by everything was boring? “I got old”, he said. Really, he got old at the age of 23? He looked at me sharply for criticizing his explanation. Every time I asked him a question, I felt his eyes were saying, “just shut up and listen to me”. So eventually I just sat there like a dead fish while he carried on about his dysfunctional family and how he was so different. I excused myself to go to the bathroom and texted mr.ten to tell him I was ready. I went back and took my seat on the stool across from date#11, a few minutes passed and when a lull in the conversation came, I made my getaway. I’m pretty sure that this date would have been cut short regardless of my successive plans. I wouldn’t have been willing to suffer through it. “I’m going to go”, I said. He looked surprised, slightly hurt and then smirked defensively. That’s when the relief came. I said very nicely that it was nice to meet him, and that I was grateful for his coming to meet me. I felt solid and good about saying thanks, but no thanks. I was proud knowing that I had not let the dance go on for longer than necessary. I got into my car and reached mr.ten on the phone, I told him I was on my way. I felt so grateful to spend the rest of the night with him. I blasted my music and drove over to his apartment, with a big smile on my face.
Qualities of mr.ten, in no particular order. He is open. He listens to what I have to say, even when I think it sounds crazy or embarrassing. He nods his head to show that he is listening and he understands. He holds the sometimes delicate space for me when I get scared or nervous. He doesn't make me feel like I am broken or damaged. He didn't laugh at me when I had to begin tapping my body with my hands (something my therapist suggested) to stay present, when my body begins to release trauma during sex. He waits. He waits for me to come first. He looks at me as if I hold every ounce of his melted heart in my hands, and I do. When he squeezes, I squeeze back, when he exhales I collapse deeper into his arms. When he moans I pay attention and tune in to what he is really saying. He cradles my head in his big hands when we kiss. He smirks and smiles back at me when my happiness bubbles over and I show him that I am falling. No matter how afraid I am, I know he is worth it. He reads into signs and signals just like I do. He believes there is deeper meaning, even in every day objects. I hope he doesn't break my heart. I can’t hold back, he over takes my consciousness. Kissing him makes me weak in the knees, my stomach drops at the thought of his sweet tenderness and eagerness to please. He is beautiful. He is real, even though I swear that I’m dreaming.
What would it look like if I were enough? If I believed that I was worthy of love no matter what? What if I wasn't under the false pretense that I had to perform or hide to feel secure when I like someone? My ultimate goal is to love unconditionally without wanting in return. I want to love him like that. I want to give him everything I have. I want the nagging feeling of anxiety to end. The events and emotions that are transpiring are confusing, confounded and messy to say the least. The difference this time is my honesty and my attempt to be present without fear and shame. Also, this time I think he really cares. Never in my life have I ever had a man light candles, put on nice music and eat with me by candlelight. Never have I experienced a man talking to me as if he valued my listening and enjoyed my conversation. I have never known a man to kiss me slowly and patiently await the next move. We finished our amazing italian take-out dinner and sat on the couch and talked. He explained in more detail his work and I began trying to receive a crash course in creating websites, dealing with servers and the complexity of datasets. The conversation was stimulating. We sat close hugging and kissing throughout. Our conversation slowed and soon the kissing was interrupted by words instead of words interrupted by kissing. Our passion heightened bit by bit incrementally, reaching higher levels of intensity then rebalancing, like an audio equalizer. Our intentions became known. Our emotions layered and continued to amplify until my feet met the floor, initiating our movement toward the bedroom. Slowly and surely we fumbled backwards and in circles, with our eyes closed across the room. The hunger in his touch lingered, leaving traces behind us. I trusted him to keep my balance, the energy between us was our only means of propulsion as we drifted toward his big white bed. His bed has become a sacred place of release. A place to feel safe, a boat out at sea where no one else can reach me, nobody but him. Somehow I can feel how much he likes me in his embrace and in his kiss. The way he looks at me deeply, directly into my eyes. He maintains eye contact at the most vulnerable and sensitive moments and I choose to keep mine open. And this is why I feel like and idiot.
There is a part of me that knows more will be revealed but the other part of me feels so wrong. So I ask myself again why am I doing this project? To prove that if it’s meant to be I can‘t fuck it up? It’s supposed to be a safeguard to keep me from getting attached to quickly, but I don't think its working. The only thing I can do is keep going until it gets more clear. I’m supposed to be proving to myself that I am a desirable candidate for a relationship and that I don’t have to settle. To keep my eyes open and make a choice based on self awareness, experience and reality. But I have to keep wondering, does it ever work like that? Do I have any control over who I fall in love with?
Earlier that morning I was thinking about a conversation that mr.ten and I had. He mentioned that his ideal living scenario would be to spend half his time in New York City, and the other half in Santa Cruz. Which I found especially interesting because before finding Santa Cruz, I was going to move to New York City. I have always loved New York and I have been trying to go back for a visit for the last few years, but haven't been able to make it work because of financial restraints and Lucy. I got to thinking; for spring break I am going to book a trip to New York and ask mr.ten if he would like to join me. Within seconds of that decision, fear of rejection, judgment and insecurities began funneling in perfect time into my consciousness. What if he thinks it’s too soon for a trip like that? What if he days no? What if he lies about why he can’t go? You’ll look desperate and stupid, my judgmental mind told me. I retreated back to the basic premise of the project. Act as if you will not be rejected. Show him you're interested, and he’ll believe it. And the complement, show him that you aren't interested and he’ll believe that too. I did know one thing, thinking about mr.ten sends an undeniable impulse throughout my entire body. Here is yet another chance to show what I am made of with reckless abandon. I cannot destroy this, I believe “true love cannot be found where it truly does not exist, Nor can it be hidden where it truly does”.
I have spent my whole life believing that if I held back, I wouldn't scare them off. I controlled and calculated text messages,emails and conversations, hoping that somehow they would be begging for more, but that never happened. Maybe playing hard to get works for some people but conceder this; if that’s what attracts them, what happens when you get got? Well I’ll tell you, they’re on to the next woman who is harder to get. I decided to ask him. What’s the worst he could say? No? Then I would go by myself. He called and I asked, I felt my heart expand, inflate and rise to the bottom of my throat and when he said, “I can’t. I have to work and I just can’t get time away”, I felt the truth of reality set in. I said I was sad but I understood and would go on my own.
I have purchased tickets for my four day stay in NYC. Upon clicking confirm icon, I did a big happy dance around my apartment. Mr.ten often thinks about moments in his life he would want to revisit if he were dead. This would be one of those moments for me. I never knew I could connect like this before. Who cares about fear of being hurt, being left or lied to. Fuck it. I can’t help what my heart is telling me.
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