Memory works in interesting ways. When I look back, I find my dating year to be a confusing and painful time. I suppose we process things by layers because at the time, I probably would have told you that I was having a blast. Maybe it’s just impossible to have an objective point of view when we are in the middle of it all.
It’s only now, two years into my relationship, that I look at dating me and feel like going back and giving her a hug.
It feels like romance is making a come back. Nothing could make me happier.
I mean, what’s better than feeling objectified by an app, going on a blind date only to realize the dude is the co-worker you hate, and ending the night kissing a limp tongued stranger?
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I know you love me, and I love you too, but there are some parts of me that are rather ugly. I think of things I did in the past with a sneer, like a bad taste in my mouth. Especially with men. Ew!!! I think – why did I do that?
Then of course I remember it’s all because of my mother. I brush it off with the back of my hand and get back to my life.
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Dating is absolutely not fun, it’s entirely lonely and miserable, and yet it’s like waxing, it hurts but then you’re glad you did it. Because at some point you eventually do meet someone. You finally find The One. Or maybe it’s just that you find whoever will have you after you’ve taken in the landscape of what’s available out there.
In my case, I’ll let you be the judge.
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There was me in my car. There was my dog on my side, the windy road down to Laguna Beach. The ocean, bright and silver. Music in my ears, sun in my eyes, and a feeling of no return.
I was going to a retreat and we had decided he wouldn’t come. It was a warm and breezy Friday afternoon. Before I’d hit the road, I’d suggested:
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I need to tell you the story of my one night stand.
Yes, singular. I have only had one one night stand in my life, because I fall in love with absolutely any guy I have sex with, so I’d better be careful who I sleep with, because then it’s not a one night stand anymore, it’s a freaking seven year relationship.
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