Back to where I once belonged

So much going on…so very much! Men kept flying at me, right and left, from the Yahoo personals. A guy who ran a print shop, an earnest gentleman from the Indian subcontinent, a delightful swing dancer, a gorgeous divorced dad… In the middle of all of this, Karaoke Joe was emailing, the original Yahoo Personals guy would show up sporadically and, GodDAMNit, Sweet Boy Thursday just wouldn’t go away. After a few weeks, I semi-deactivated my Yahoo profile. An embarrassment of riches is still an embarrassment, after all.

Gradually, it came down to the Divorced Dad, who had gamely tried some of the most frightening sushi on our first date, even though his face contorted at every bite, like he was a contestant on Fear Factor. Our second date was at a steakhouse…or rather, THE steakhouse. I knew it was a schmancy place when I told my old douchebag boss and he was momentarily stunned. In that moment, the look on his face insulted me with the unspoken thought: “Someone thought YOU were worth Gene & Georgetti’s?!”

A month of loveliness passed with the Divorced Dad. I only got to see him on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and every other weekend due to his custody arrangements, but he kept on trying to get me to hang out with his kids on visiting weekend. I love kids. I want plenty of my own. I just didn’t want to meet these kids too soon. I wanted to be sure I was in the relationship for the long haul. It would be so hard to love the children and not their father. Gradually, though I did wind up smitten. More than smitten. More like on the edge of turning into “New Mommy.”

Something bothered me, though, and I couldn’t tell what it was. Maybe it was the fact that he chased tequila shots with a gin and tonic. And then sometimes drove. Maybe it was the fact that he admitted to having violently bad nightmares that prevented him from sleeping more than four hours a night. Maybe it was the fact that he seemed reluctant to get into conversations. He let me talk all the time and when I asked him a question, the answer I got was “Well, you know…” No, buddy, that’s the point. I DON’T know. And I wanted to know because he was adorable and I thought he would stop drinking so much and start sleeping more if he only spent more time with me. Red flag, girl. No one ever really changes. Never.

Late in October, I invited Divorced Dad (who is three years younger than me) to come with me to a party that was shaping up to be a monster social event. It was the first Halloween party in a long time that I actually got dressed up for and I went a little nuts. I went as Miss Havisham, and if you don’t know who that is, look it the fuck up. Divorced Dad went as Duckie from Pretty in Pink. It was a genius costume and actually made me think “Well, so what if he doesn’t actually TALK when we talk? There’s something going on inside his head, at least. He GETS stuff.” Red flag, girl. When you justify someone’s undesirable qualities away, they’re not really gone. They’re just hidden behind the nice wall of denial you built.

We arrived at the party and began drinking heavily. Sweet Boy Thursday was also at the party. I hadn't PLANNED on a drama filled evening until Divorced Dad joined me on the roof deck and told me that he had been talking to Sweet Boy Thursday when SBT asked him abruptly "So, are you going out with her?" God. I had wanted to break up with SBT so many times, but it never seemed like the right time or place. Couldn't do it at Carol's, couldn't do it at Grizzly's, couldn't do it at my apartment... So I chose an anteroom at this party, instead. I talked to him and told him that I just wasn't that interested in him. It was harder than I thought. It hurt more than I had anticipated. As I said "I still want to be your friend," my chest siezed up and I started to cry from this huge, strangling sadness. He said "Okay. I love you." and that was it. He walked away and didn't look back.

I found Divorced Dad a few minutes later, as he was leaving the party...without me. I grabbed his arm and asked why he was going. He had apparently walked by SBT and I talking and assumed that I had been making out with him. Under most circumstances, a fair assumption. I explained in detail about what was going on, all the while feeling like I was going to split down the middle from sadness. God help me, I couldn't stop crying! After I explained everything, I asked Divorced Dad how he felt about me. He said "I like you. I more than like you. I very much more than like you." I thought hearing that would make me feel better, but it didn't. Sitting in a vinyl booth at the Golden Apple, post-party, I was still crying, only this time it was in-between bites of pancake. Divorced Dad came home with me. In the morning, I realized that I still wasn't done crying.

Later that afternoon, after practically shoving Divorced Dad out of my (terribly cute!) apartment, I sent a text message to SBT, asking if he wanted to hang out. All I knew was that I had to see him. I had to see if we could be friends post-whatever it was. He came to dinner with me at a restaurant known for its plethora of food that tastes like library paste (even the salads...how do they DO that?!) and was very much more together than I was at that point. We went back to his apartment where I suggested watching a movie because I wasn't done being around him yet. He put in "Dawn of the Dead." Somewhere around the time when the gun shop guy is picking off famous-looking zombies in the parking lot, I started holding SBT's hand. I realized then that I wasn't sad anymore. Something, some small good thing in the scenario of me on his couch and holding his hand, felt like home. HOME. I had broken up with the wrong person.

SBT was infinitely patient with me. He listened to my blathering about not wanting to confuse him and not knowing what I wanted and just plain old not knowing. He waited until I was finished and he said "I want to be with you. Whatever that means, I'll accept that." I was finally at rest in my romantic wanderings. The only thing left was to tell Divorced Dad.

I'd like to say it was easy telling DD I had found SBT to be person I most wanted to be with. It wasn't, though. It was fantastically hard to tell him that I was just a little bit MORE in like with SBT than him. He was cordial and brief on the phone, which was a blessing, and when he responded to an email I sent him in which I sang his praises to a somewhat embarrassing degree, he almost broke my heart with his frankness. "Anyhow," he emailed, "thanks for stopping the nightmares for a while."

I could say the same thing to SBT.