See Could it Be?, It's Not Him, It's Me, The Recovery, We're Just Not That Into Each Other, The Continuation, The Curse is Broken, Unfortunately, The Make-Up Date, The Phone Call, The Negotiation, Dates 9 Through 12, Dates 13 Through 15, The Public Sex Talk, Bridging the Chasm, The Shut Down and All Kinds of Good for the background on this one.
Pre-Date: In the days before our next date, we would talk on the phone and I noticed the best conversations happened when I called him late from work. I'm not sure if it was my secret thrill at calling on the sly that was infectious or what, but they were great conversations. During one, he mentioned our upcoming Hamptons trip and told me he makes really good scrambled eggs but was worried that was all we'd be eating all weekend.
Date #20 (a Saturday in August): We arranged to meet at Le Petite Abeille in the West Village. He was running late and two bohemian old men struck up a conversation with me at the tables out front. One was a poet, the other a fiction writer of some sort. They told me they thought I was Russian at first. Appreciative of being mistaken for Russian, I encouraged conversation. We were talking about some poet or other and I was laughing when #111 walked up. Looking "intense," as usual, he seemed perturbed somehow and when he went to kiss me said, "Why are you laughing?" I said I was just talking to the two men. No doubt intimidated by #111's less-than-friendly demeanor, the two men turned back to talk to each other.
We ended up having a lovely Belgian dinner--hamburgers, sausages and mash--and then walked over the The Rusty Knot to meet #111's friends from his grad school program. Everyone was incredibly nice, but also incredibly young. Most of them were in their twenties and generally had the joix de vivre (um, how do I say "immaturity" nicely?) to match, so I felt a little out of my element (To explain: I can be as goofy as the next person but this was a little much).
Otherwise, adding to the "festive" atmosphere, #111 was keen to take pictures. It was funny to see him pose for a photo. He was normally very stoic in an effort to maintain his "intense" look, so it was interesting to see him prepare for a photo. He would suddenly strike a pose--complete with a broad, engaging and very real smile. Naturally, I teased him about it.
I have to admit I was having another out-of-body experience, but after the last one, I knew enough not to let on. I was thrilled that he was introducing me to his friends. Clearly, I was his. And clearly, he wanted photos of us because he would throw his arm around me, hold up his camera and take us-portraits.
We went for dessert at Rocco's after and the energy was different than other times we'd been there. Maybe it was emotional for both of us to meet the friends. Maybe he was feeling a little freaked this time, like I was last time. He stayed over and the next morning, as we were getting ready for breakfast at Remedy and I put on another little sundress, he said, "How many cute little dresses do you have?" I said I was getting to the end of the repertoire but there would be a whole new array in the winter. He seemed to like that.
After Remedy, we went to the Otto Dix exhibit at the Neue Gallerie and then walked through Central Park to Cafe Edgar (I know this is slightly off-topic, but I recommend the marzipan dessert). I had accidentally teased him about his acting days (I was seriously encouraging him to get back into it but it somehow came across as teasing him) on the walk to the park and then quickly regretted it as he seemed annoyed. I apologized. He said he was just giving me a hard time, but as we sat in Edgar and I felt yet another chasm opening, I said, "Are you really annoyed?" And he said, somewhat shortly, "If I was, I wouldn't have taken you here." They were assuring words that did not lend any feeling of assurance. He mentioned our upcoming weekend away and mentioned renting a car. Fingers crossed that that means he'll look into it.
Red Flags: His friends are really, really young. Also, at one point, #111 pointed out a guy and told me he was a jerk (or some other name I can't remember) but then later seemed keen to engage in futile literary debates with the guy, who he didn't respect and would never agree with. It seemed like an exercise not only in futility but also in posturing--an effort to show who knew more about the quirks of a certain writer or other. Or something. I just stood there, internally rolling my eyes. On the way out, the guy he had been debating with said quietly to me, "Watch out for that guy." It was a warning I didn't feel like I should entirely ignore.
Diagnosis: For him: I can't read him. Even though he says he's not annoyed, he still acts annoyed and distant.
For me: Perhaps I should take a moment to explain something. I haven't had a guy this into me in five years--and even then the guy was far too afraid to bring me out and show me around--actually, I don't think he even had anyone to show me around to, so you have to understand, being taken to meet #111's friends was thrilling. But his moodiness is daunting. One night, late, talking on the phone with Kevin, I expressed my displeasure, but ultimately came to this kind of conclusion: "But I don't want it to end because I don't know when the next guy that I'm crazy about like this will come along." Hello, rock? Meet self-inflicted hard place.
Monday, August 30, 2010
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Mr. Unavailable #111: All Kinds of Good
See Could it Be?, It's Not Him, It's Me, The Recovery, We're Just Not That Into Each Other, The Continuation, The Curse is Broken, Unfortunately, The Make-Up Date, The Phone Call, The Negotiation, Dates 9 Through 12, Dates 13 Through 15, The Public Sex Talk, Bridging the Chasm and The Shut Down for the background on this one.
Date #19 (Tuesday, August 24): I'd gone away for the weekend but we'd made plans to see Winter's Bone at the Angelica. When I met him there, he was clearly happy to see me. "I feel like I haven't seen you in ages," he said. We sat close on the sofa in the cafe area and he rest his hand between my legs. I was liking this.
After the movie, we went for coffee at Think and he said, "I have a dilemma. Some friends from the program are having a birthday party at a bar on Saturday and I'm not sure if I should go. If I went, would you want to come?" It was adorable. He was shyly asking me if I wanted to meet his friends. He came home with me after and, since it was that time of the month, we had what my friend Shelagh lovingly deemed "Crime Scene Sex." When I first proposed it to #111, he said, "I'm not squeamish." Naturally, since that time of the month is generally the safest time of the month, well, we took advantage.
Signs of Hope: All kinds--asking me to meet his friends especially.
Red Flags: None to speak of.
Diagnosis: We are clearly very into each other.
Date #19 (Tuesday, August 24): I'd gone away for the weekend but we'd made plans to see Winter's Bone at the Angelica. When I met him there, he was clearly happy to see me. "I feel like I haven't seen you in ages," he said. We sat close on the sofa in the cafe area and he rest his hand between my legs. I was liking this.
After the movie, we went for coffee at Think and he said, "I have a dilemma. Some friends from the program are having a birthday party at a bar on Saturday and I'm not sure if I should go. If I went, would you want to come?" It was adorable. He was shyly asking me if I wanted to meet his friends. He came home with me after and, since it was that time of the month, we had what my friend Shelagh lovingly deemed "Crime Scene Sex." When I first proposed it to #111, he said, "I'm not squeamish." Naturally, since that time of the month is generally the safest time of the month, well, we took advantage.
Signs of Hope: All kinds--asking me to meet his friends especially.
Red Flags: None to speak of.
Diagnosis: We are clearly very into each other.
Friday, August 20, 2010
Mr. Unavailable #111: The Shut Down
See Could it Be?, It's Not Him, It's Me, The Recovery, We're Just Not That Into Each Other, The Continuation, The Curse is Broken, Unfortunately, The Make-Up Date, The Phone Call, The Negotiation, Dates 9 Through 12, Dates 13 Through 15, The Public Sex Talk and Bridging the Chasm for the background on this one.
Date #18 (Thursday, August 19): After the stress of the last date and feeling self-conscious about my flinching, I was exceedingly nervous to see him. Excited-nervous, but nervous nonetheless. We planned to meet up at the Bleecker Street theater for "Puppetry of the Penis." It was the best selection in my theater club--it was summer, after all. When he walked in I got up and tried to kiss him without flinching. "Did I flinch?" I asked. I think he said not really. I noticed he seemed a bit nervous, too. I was thinking more and more it wasn't only me.
We watched the, um, show. For me, it may have been a little too soon in our relationship to watch two naked men twist their penises into various shapes (hamburgers, different types of flora and fauna...). He seemed to handle it very well--probably better than I did.
Afterward, we went to Yaffa Cafe for dinner. Over the weekend, he had asked me about my Swiss Army Watch and why I got it. I told him I liked the brand--always had ever since I traveled around Europe with a Swiss Army knife, keeping it handy during shady overnight train rides through areas near war-torn countries. I had thought about it some more, though , and told him over my Yaffa salad that i had also gotten it as a present to myself for surviving the last year (quitting my job, starting a company, going to Australia, getting a new job). And he says, "I didn't ask you that. I only asked you why you liked the brand." At that, he completely shut me down. After that, we went for frozen yogurt and then, instead of staying over, he went home.
Signs of Hope: During the theatrical show, he told me that he told some friends of his about me, especially about how I make him laugh. "Because not many woman make me laugh," he said. He told me I would meet them at some point and that I would love them.
Red Flags: How he shut me down at Yaffa. Clearly, he didn't want me to open up to him like that. Maybe somehow he was threatened by it? Couldn't handle it? I have no idea. That, and the fact that he didn't stay over, and there was no reason not to.
Diagnosis: For him: He can't handle it when I open up to him without invitation.
For me: When he shut me down, I didn't react. I internalized it, thought maybe I had done something wrong. And when he didn't stay over, a small part of me conjured a feeling of relief because of the earlier stage display but I was probably only talking myself into being relieved because I had no other choice.
Date #18 (Thursday, August 19): After the stress of the last date and feeling self-conscious about my flinching, I was exceedingly nervous to see him. Excited-nervous, but nervous nonetheless. We planned to meet up at the Bleecker Street theater for "Puppetry of the Penis." It was the best selection in my theater club--it was summer, after all. When he walked in I got up and tried to kiss him without flinching. "Did I flinch?" I asked. I think he said not really. I noticed he seemed a bit nervous, too. I was thinking more and more it wasn't only me.
We watched the, um, show. For me, it may have been a little too soon in our relationship to watch two naked men twist their penises into various shapes (hamburgers, different types of flora and fauna...). He seemed to handle it very well--probably better than I did.
Afterward, we went to Yaffa Cafe for dinner. Over the weekend, he had asked me about my Swiss Army Watch and why I got it. I told him I liked the brand--always had ever since I traveled around Europe with a Swiss Army knife, keeping it handy during shady overnight train rides through areas near war-torn countries. I had thought about it some more, though , and told him over my Yaffa salad that i had also gotten it as a present to myself for surviving the last year (quitting my job, starting a company, going to Australia, getting a new job). And he says, "I didn't ask you that. I only asked you why you liked the brand." At that, he completely shut me down. After that, we went for frozen yogurt and then, instead of staying over, he went home.
Signs of Hope: During the theatrical show, he told me that he told some friends of his about me, especially about how I make him laugh. "Because not many woman make me laugh," he said. He told me I would meet them at some point and that I would love them.
Red Flags: How he shut me down at Yaffa. Clearly, he didn't want me to open up to him like that. Maybe somehow he was threatened by it? Couldn't handle it? I have no idea. That, and the fact that he didn't stay over, and there was no reason not to.
Diagnosis: For him: He can't handle it when I open up to him without invitation.
For me: When he shut me down, I didn't react. I internalized it, thought maybe I had done something wrong. And when he didn't stay over, a small part of me conjured a feeling of relief because of the earlier stage display but I was probably only talking myself into being relieved because I had no other choice.
Monday, August 16, 2010
Mr. Unavailable #111: Bridging the Chasm
See Could it Be?, It's Not Him, It's Me, The Recovery, We're Just Not That Into Each Other, The Continuation, The Curse is Broken, Unfortunately, The Make-Up Date, The Phone Call, The Negotiation, Dates 9 Through 12, Dates 13 Through 15 and The Public Sex Talk for the background on this one.
Pre-Date: After the way the previous date ended, I was feeling rather unsteady about things. I had sent him an email earlier in the week saying I wanted him to share the hosting duties and I wanted to stay at his place over the weekend. I'd never seen it--because he has a roommate and lives in Harlem. (Earlier in the relationship, this detail made my friends wonder if he were married. That and his aversion to calling me. Kevin's girlfriend, who only knew I'd never seen his place said, "That's weird that you've never seen his place--unless he lives in a dump in Harlem." Touche.)
There was another little nagging voice in the back of my head. #111 had a volunteer gig every Friday at a bookstore near my apartment, but he never stopped by or talked about meeting up afterward or invited me to come visit. For a long time I just thought he had strong boundaries, but I was beginning to wonder if those boundaries were so strong I was never going to get inside them.
Date #17 (Saturday, mid-August): We made plans to go to P.S. 1 and then a Greek restaurant in Queens that he knew about. When he came over, again, there was a massive chasm. I thought it was me. Was I just nervous? He was definitely distant. It made me feel like everything about me was wrong--my hair, my dress, everything. He didn't compliment me at all. Sitting on my sofa, he was incredibly distant. "He's going to break up with me," I thought. We left for the museum and things slowly got better. Slowly. Even in the museum, though, I felt it. I resisted the urge to ask him if something was wrong. We wandered the museum, but there was a definite lack of closeness. At the restaurant, too, I felt like I was on a first date, or something similarly anxiety-inducing.
After dinner, we stopped and got sweets and then went back to his place--where things finally got better. I was in his space. In his room, I looked at all the things on his walls. They were arranged in clusters, like a college kid in a dorm would decorate. Little notes, little news articles, random bits, a few posters. And all his furniture was crammed in there. His roommate was gone, so we tested his bed out. After, we donned a couple of t-shirts in case his roommate came back and laid in bed. It was the sweetest moment. He was lying across my legs just sort of playing with the bedspread and telling me about his family. It wasn’t what he was saying but the way he was saying it. He was so comfortable and at ease. There was something truly intimate there. "Hey, beautiful," he said. "Hey, handsome," I said. He laughed. "I guess we make a pretty good-looking couple," he said. "We do," I said.
The next morning, we rode the train downtown to go to Remedy Diner for breakfast. Maybe it was just me, but even on the subway, it seemed like he went away again a little bit. It's like he goes in and out, because at the diner, once we got talking, he was fine again. On our way out, I asked him what he was doing for Labor Day weekend and he said, "Nothing. What do you have in mind?" I told him that Heidi offered up her house in the Hamptons and all we'd have to do was rent a car. He said that sounded like fun.
Red Flags: All the on-again, off-again distance.
Diagnosis: I don't think it was just me flinching. I was just revealing it physically. I think he mentally flinched whenever he saw me, too. Maybe he was nervous, too, or unsure of himself, or scared of his feelings, or something.
Pre-Date: After the way the previous date ended, I was feeling rather unsteady about things. I had sent him an email earlier in the week saying I wanted him to share the hosting duties and I wanted to stay at his place over the weekend. I'd never seen it--because he has a roommate and lives in Harlem. (Earlier in the relationship, this detail made my friends wonder if he were married. That and his aversion to calling me. Kevin's girlfriend, who only knew I'd never seen his place said, "That's weird that you've never seen his place--unless he lives in a dump in Harlem." Touche.)
There was another little nagging voice in the back of my head. #111 had a volunteer gig every Friday at a bookstore near my apartment, but he never stopped by or talked about meeting up afterward or invited me to come visit. For a long time I just thought he had strong boundaries, but I was beginning to wonder if those boundaries were so strong I was never going to get inside them.
Date #17 (Saturday, mid-August): We made plans to go to P.S. 1 and then a Greek restaurant in Queens that he knew about. When he came over, again, there was a massive chasm. I thought it was me. Was I just nervous? He was definitely distant. It made me feel like everything about me was wrong--my hair, my dress, everything. He didn't compliment me at all. Sitting on my sofa, he was incredibly distant. "He's going to break up with me," I thought. We left for the museum and things slowly got better. Slowly. Even in the museum, though, I felt it. I resisted the urge to ask him if something was wrong. We wandered the museum, but there was a definite lack of closeness. At the restaurant, too, I felt like I was on a first date, or something similarly anxiety-inducing.
After dinner, we stopped and got sweets and then went back to his place--where things finally got better. I was in his space. In his room, I looked at all the things on his walls. They were arranged in clusters, like a college kid in a dorm would decorate. Little notes, little news articles, random bits, a few posters. And all his furniture was crammed in there. His roommate was gone, so we tested his bed out. After, we donned a couple of t-shirts in case his roommate came back and laid in bed. It was the sweetest moment. He was lying across my legs just sort of playing with the bedspread and telling me about his family. It wasn’t what he was saying but the way he was saying it. He was so comfortable and at ease. There was something truly intimate there. "Hey, beautiful," he said. "Hey, handsome," I said. He laughed. "I guess we make a pretty good-looking couple," he said. "We do," I said.
The next morning, we rode the train downtown to go to Remedy Diner for breakfast. Maybe it was just me, but even on the subway, it seemed like he went away again a little bit. It's like he goes in and out, because at the diner, once we got talking, he was fine again. On our way out, I asked him what he was doing for Labor Day weekend and he said, "Nothing. What do you have in mind?" I told him that Heidi offered up her house in the Hamptons and all we'd have to do was rent a car. He said that sounded like fun.
Red Flags: All the on-again, off-again distance.
Diagnosis: I don't think it was just me flinching. I was just revealing it physically. I think he mentally flinched whenever he saw me, too. Maybe he was nervous, too, or unsure of himself, or scared of his feelings, or something.
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Mr. Unavailable #111: The Public Sex Talk
See Could it Be?, It's Not Him, It's Me, The Recovery, We're Just Not That Into Each Other, The Continuation, The Curse is Broken, Unfortunately, The Make-Up Date, The Phone Call, The Negotiation, Dates 9 Through 12 and Dates 13 Through 15 for the background on this one.
Date #16: #111 and I arranged to meet up in front of the Nuyorican in the East Village for The Moth Slam. He got there early and texted me saying the line was around the block. I found him and we decided not to even try to get in. I had started taking anxiety medicine the day before--for my various, but mild, OCD habits--and I was feeling spacey. We happily wandered around the neighborhood trying to pick a place to eat--we were good at wandering--and wound up at our stand-by, Cafe Mogador. We got the nook table in the back. My spaciness made me talkative and I was telling him all about my parents and all I've learned in therapy over the years. Then I said, "Wow, I'm really talky, so I guess if you want to know anything, now's the time."
"Actually, I have sort of a tangential question for you. Are you comfortable with me--sexually?"
It was totally out of left field. Especially considering that in the past with men, I've felt self-conscious, but with him I didn't. I assured him I'd never felt more comfortable with anyone and that I was incredibly at ease, if that's even a good word to use, with him. He brought up my tendency to flinch when he went to kiss me when we first met up for dates and I assured him: "It's not you, it's me." I told him that I hadn't met anyone I really liked like I liked him in a really long time, so it didn't surprise me at all that I flinched.
He went on to say that he wanted to, um, please me in bed and that I was "somewhat unresponsive." Being self-conscious, my insecurities exploded. I thought he was criticizing me. I couldn't quite figure out what he meant, but I was never going to be a screamer if that's what he was getting at. Then he specified. "What do you like? Circles?"
I glanced at the two people who were sitting ever so close to us at the next table over. "They're not listening," he said. They were strangely quiet and our conversation was, no doubt, much more interesting than theirs. I told #111 that we'd figure it out. Then he said that my own oral skills were great and that usually it took him "forever" to come, but with me, it didn't. That was nice, and I should have given myself a pat on the back, but I was still stuck on the "unresponsive" comment. He assured me he was giving me a compliment and was actually criticizing himself.
He said that his screenwriter friend said that women found him intimidating--and that, he said, was why a lot of his relationships ended. I couldn't quite figure out what that meant either then I said, "Oh, your four and a half year relationship again?" (Yes, again. This was actually the second time on this date that she came up.) He said not just that relationship but others. I still couldn't grasp what he was talking about--maybe he was referring to his stoic intensity--he has a knack for looking incredibly serious and unapproachable, which I actually find endearing because I know it's just a facade but maybe the other girlfriends couldn't handle it? Is that what he was saying? I told him something along those lines, saying that I "got" him and that the intensity was the thing that other people might only see, but for those who can see through it (like me), they win the prize (him). "I've never been called a prize before," he said.
We went back to my place. Exhausted from talking, I said, "OK, show me what you've got." Later, as we tried to sleep, I still couldn't quite grasp what he was getting at--this "intimidation" that breaks up his relationships? Is he already laying the groundwork for the end? WTF? A chasm opened up between us in bed. I was also stuck on the "unresponsive" comment (old business from Mr. Unavailable #88.) I couldn't tell if he felt the distance, but neither of us were sleeping. He was sneezing and, finally, at 5:30 in the morning, he got up, said he was allergic to the cat hair and said he was going home. I felt awful.
Diagnosis: For him: I have no idea. I really don't understand how a woman being intimidating by him can break up a relationship. I asked my friends what this "intimidation" really meant. Size? His intense facial expression when not smiling? Again, WTF?
For me: I have to admit I did get distant when we were trying to sleep that night. I figured that's why he left in the middle of the night, so I vowed to not let a chasm like that open up again.
In Retrospect: It took me a while to realize it, but one night a few months later I wondered if, when he said he intimidated women, maybe what he was really saying was that he had a track record of not being able to please women in bed and therefore his relationships ended over it. Up until this point, it was true, I had only been "successful" once and, in the past I had been successful many times--often on the same occasion. The interesting thing was that he made it seem like it was the woman's problem, not his. But you know what they say about common denominators...
Date #16: #111 and I arranged to meet up in front of the Nuyorican in the East Village for The Moth Slam. He got there early and texted me saying the line was around the block. I found him and we decided not to even try to get in. I had started taking anxiety medicine the day before--for my various, but mild, OCD habits--and I was feeling spacey. We happily wandered around the neighborhood trying to pick a place to eat--we were good at wandering--and wound up at our stand-by, Cafe Mogador. We got the nook table in the back. My spaciness made me talkative and I was telling him all about my parents and all I've learned in therapy over the years. Then I said, "Wow, I'm really talky, so I guess if you want to know anything, now's the time."
"Actually, I have sort of a tangential question for you. Are you comfortable with me--sexually?"
It was totally out of left field. Especially considering that in the past with men, I've felt self-conscious, but with him I didn't. I assured him I'd never felt more comfortable with anyone and that I was incredibly at ease, if that's even a good word to use, with him. He brought up my tendency to flinch when he went to kiss me when we first met up for dates and I assured him: "It's not you, it's me." I told him that I hadn't met anyone I really liked like I liked him in a really long time, so it didn't surprise me at all that I flinched.
He went on to say that he wanted to, um, please me in bed and that I was "somewhat unresponsive." Being self-conscious, my insecurities exploded. I thought he was criticizing me. I couldn't quite figure out what he meant, but I was never going to be a screamer if that's what he was getting at. Then he specified. "What do you like? Circles?"
I glanced at the two people who were sitting ever so close to us at the next table over. "They're not listening," he said. They were strangely quiet and our conversation was, no doubt, much more interesting than theirs. I told #111 that we'd figure it out. Then he said that my own oral skills were great and that usually it took him "forever" to come, but with me, it didn't. That was nice, and I should have given myself a pat on the back, but I was still stuck on the "unresponsive" comment. He assured me he was giving me a compliment and was actually criticizing himself.
He said that his screenwriter friend said that women found him intimidating--and that, he said, was why a lot of his relationships ended. I couldn't quite figure out what that meant either then I said, "Oh, your four and a half year relationship again?" (Yes, again. This was actually the second time on this date that she came up.) He said not just that relationship but others. I still couldn't grasp what he was talking about--maybe he was referring to his stoic intensity--he has a knack for looking incredibly serious and unapproachable, which I actually find endearing because I know it's just a facade but maybe the other girlfriends couldn't handle it? Is that what he was saying? I told him something along those lines, saying that I "got" him and that the intensity was the thing that other people might only see, but for those who can see through it (like me), they win the prize (him). "I've never been called a prize before," he said.
We went back to my place. Exhausted from talking, I said, "OK, show me what you've got." Later, as we tried to sleep, I still couldn't quite grasp what he was getting at--this "intimidation" that breaks up his relationships? Is he already laying the groundwork for the end? WTF? A chasm opened up between us in bed. I was also stuck on the "unresponsive" comment (old business from Mr. Unavailable #88.) I couldn't tell if he felt the distance, but neither of us were sleeping. He was sneezing and, finally, at 5:30 in the morning, he got up, said he was allergic to the cat hair and said he was going home. I felt awful.
Diagnosis: For him: I have no idea. I really don't understand how a woman being intimidating by him can break up a relationship. I asked my friends what this "intimidation" really meant. Size? His intense facial expression when not smiling? Again, WTF?
For me: I have to admit I did get distant when we were trying to sleep that night. I figured that's why he left in the middle of the night, so I vowed to not let a chasm like that open up again.
In Retrospect: It took me a while to realize it, but one night a few months later I wondered if, when he said he intimidated women, maybe what he was really saying was that he had a track record of not being able to please women in bed and therefore his relationships ended over it. Up until this point, it was true, I had only been "successful" once and, in the past I had been successful many times--often on the same occasion. The interesting thing was that he made it seem like it was the woman's problem, not his. But you know what they say about common denominators...
Saturday, August 7, 2010
Mr. Unavailable #111: Dates 13 Through 15
See Could it Be?, It's Not Him, It's Me, The Recovery, We're Just Not That Into Each Other, The Continuation, The Curse is Broken, Unfortunately, The Make-Up Date, The Phone Call, The Negotiation and Dates 9 Through 12 for the background on this one.
Date #13: He'd been suffering from a migraine the day before--about his third migraine of the summer--so he came downtown and we sat on my couch for a while. He was wearing his "default shirt," the shirt he wears when he doesn't know what else to wear. Luckily, his default shirt is my favorite shirt, which I told him him. We went for lunch at Cafe Mogador and he was in a good mood, apparently having shaken his post-migraine misery (I like to think it was because he was with me).
It was a gorgeous, sunny day, so we walked around Thompkins Square Park in search of ice cream. He has an affection for my affection for sweets and likes to nurture it. We found a tiny homemade ice cream store somewhere northeast of the park and then walked to The Strand and perused books, each of us getting a pile. When he saw my stack, he said, "That's what I do." He told me about a symposium he was helping to put on and said it could be a good thing for his career. I said that was most excellent. He came back to my place and we watched Planet Earth. He told me, "I love your smile. I was going to say that it's pretty, but that's not doing it justice, it's downright beautiful." And then, even though it was a Saturday night, he went home, saying his head still hurt.
Date # 14: Two days later, we met up for the Basquiat movie at Film Forum and he was still heavily in migraine land. We went to Rocco's for dessert. I was taking his bad mood personally. I knew I shouldn't but couldn't help it. He could tell and told me he was having a terrible summer health-wise but that I was the best thing that happened to him. That he always felt better when he saw me. That made me feel better. Feeling badly about my taking it personally, I texted him the next day to thank him for the evening.
Date #15: Three days later, we met up at Antique Garage so he could meet Heidi, Nora and Kevin. I was still going through the sometimes-attracted-to-him/sometimes-not-attracted-to-him thing and when I walked in, I wasn't attracted to him. I knew that must have meant I was just subconsciously terrified.
I had let an acquaintance crash last-minute at my place the night before and told him about it. He said he would never do that. We had taken on a jokey spirit of discussion and I said to him that I had noticed that he doesn't like to help people, in general--he exhibits a general lack of enthusiasm--no, annoyance--at even the prospect of a household task of mine. I suggested to him that maybe he didn't like to help people because he doesn't accept help from people. And maybe he just needed to accept help from people more often. Naturally, he thought I was telling him he wasn't nice, which, if judged on the times in the last few years that he's tripped people, he's not. But that's not what I was saying.
We continued teasing each other and then he brought up the "What are you passionate about?" question that I hate--from Date # 7--and he turned to my friends and said, "Let me ask you something..." He asked Heidi and Nora what they thought of that question, putting his hand in front of my face as if to keep me from somehow signaling to them the answer I wanted. Heidi said it sounded like insecurity and Nora said she thought that question was pretentious. All three of us agreed that if you're passionate, it shows and it's not something that can be proved verbally. "Do you know what he said he's passionate about?" I asked them. I turned to him and he motioned to me to go ahead. "The arts," I said, and everyone groaned, laughing. He backed down after that and said, OK, he was wrong, it's not a good question.
The whole time, he had his arm around me or the back of the chair. I am his, it said. It was so unfamiliar, but I loved it. At one point, they were telling him about their dating exploits (Shelagh with the short guy and Nora with the guy who texted her right after their date and then disappeared)...and when they asked his advice, he said, "I never kiss on the first date--except with Tara."
Even from the start of the night, I was having an out-of-body experience. It had been so long since my friends met anyone I was dating--and then here was this guy, perfectly happy to meet my friends--that I was silently freaking out. I was there but I only felt partially there, watching the whole thing from above. The three of them laughing and teasing each other--was this really my life? Could I be this lucky? Afterward, I wanted to take Heidi aside and tell her I was freaking out but there was no time. Instead, walking down the street with #108, a huge chasm opened up between us. "Are you OK?" he asked. "Yes...actually that's a lie." He asked what was wrong and I said I'd tell him later. I knew not to act on it because I knew it would pass but there it was. I said maybe we should go for frozen yogurt and sit in the park. I knew he knew something was up and I think I freaked him out a bit. We got the frozen yogurt and sat in the park. I hugged him and admitted I freaked out a bit. He didn't get it. On the way back, I tried to explain that it was because my two worlds were colliding. We stopped on the corner and he kissed me--a long, jealousy-inducing kiss that inspired someone on the street to say, "Get a room."
Red Flags: When the bill came at the Antique Garage, he said, "So, what do I owe?" I was thoroughly unimpressed. I hate splitting things when I'm dating someone. After all, we split everything. Didn't he want to at least impress my friends by paying for me, too? If there was a time to do it, it was now. Instead, i just paid for both of us.
Diagnosis: For him: I'd like to believe that his "horrible migraine summer" has something to do with the intense feelings he's having for me. Like maybe he is so deeply--but subconsciously--terrified of the potential greatness of our relationship that it has affected his health. Even he has said he's never had this many migraines before. It's either that or an avoidance mechanism. Or maybe he's just getting a strangely lot amount of headaches.
For me: I'm clearly terrified, too, on some level.
Date #13: He'd been suffering from a migraine the day before--about his third migraine of the summer--so he came downtown and we sat on my couch for a while. He was wearing his "default shirt," the shirt he wears when he doesn't know what else to wear. Luckily, his default shirt is my favorite shirt, which I told him him. We went for lunch at Cafe Mogador and he was in a good mood, apparently having shaken his post-migraine misery (I like to think it was because he was with me).
It was a gorgeous, sunny day, so we walked around Thompkins Square Park in search of ice cream. He has an affection for my affection for sweets and likes to nurture it. We found a tiny homemade ice cream store somewhere northeast of the park and then walked to The Strand and perused books, each of us getting a pile. When he saw my stack, he said, "That's what I do." He told me about a symposium he was helping to put on and said it could be a good thing for his career. I said that was most excellent. He came back to my place and we watched Planet Earth. He told me, "I love your smile. I was going to say that it's pretty, but that's not doing it justice, it's downright beautiful." And then, even though it was a Saturday night, he went home, saying his head still hurt.
Date # 14: Two days later, we met up for the Basquiat movie at Film Forum and he was still heavily in migraine land. We went to Rocco's for dessert. I was taking his bad mood personally. I knew I shouldn't but couldn't help it. He could tell and told me he was having a terrible summer health-wise but that I was the best thing that happened to him. That he always felt better when he saw me. That made me feel better. Feeling badly about my taking it personally, I texted him the next day to thank him for the evening.
Date #15: Three days later, we met up at Antique Garage so he could meet Heidi, Nora and Kevin. I was still going through the sometimes-attracted-to-him/sometimes-not-attracted-to-him thing and when I walked in, I wasn't attracted to him. I knew that must have meant I was just subconsciously terrified.
I had let an acquaintance crash last-minute at my place the night before and told him about it. He said he would never do that. We had taken on a jokey spirit of discussion and I said to him that I had noticed that he doesn't like to help people, in general--he exhibits a general lack of enthusiasm--no, annoyance--at even the prospect of a household task of mine. I suggested to him that maybe he didn't like to help people because he doesn't accept help from people. And maybe he just needed to accept help from people more often. Naturally, he thought I was telling him he wasn't nice, which, if judged on the times in the last few years that he's tripped people, he's not. But that's not what I was saying.
We continued teasing each other and then he brought up the "What are you passionate about?" question that I hate--from Date # 7--and he turned to my friends and said, "Let me ask you something..." He asked Heidi and Nora what they thought of that question, putting his hand in front of my face as if to keep me from somehow signaling to them the answer I wanted. Heidi said it sounded like insecurity and Nora said she thought that question was pretentious. All three of us agreed that if you're passionate, it shows and it's not something that can be proved verbally. "Do you know what he said he's passionate about?" I asked them. I turned to him and he motioned to me to go ahead. "The arts," I said, and everyone groaned, laughing. He backed down after that and said, OK, he was wrong, it's not a good question.
The whole time, he had his arm around me or the back of the chair. I am his, it said. It was so unfamiliar, but I loved it. At one point, they were telling him about their dating exploits (Shelagh with the short guy and Nora with the guy who texted her right after their date and then disappeared)...and when they asked his advice, he said, "I never kiss on the first date--except with Tara."
Even from the start of the night, I was having an out-of-body experience. It had been so long since my friends met anyone I was dating--and then here was this guy, perfectly happy to meet my friends--that I was silently freaking out. I was there but I only felt partially there, watching the whole thing from above. The three of them laughing and teasing each other--was this really my life? Could I be this lucky? Afterward, I wanted to take Heidi aside and tell her I was freaking out but there was no time. Instead, walking down the street with #108, a huge chasm opened up between us. "Are you OK?" he asked. "Yes...actually that's a lie." He asked what was wrong and I said I'd tell him later. I knew not to act on it because I knew it would pass but there it was. I said maybe we should go for frozen yogurt and sit in the park. I knew he knew something was up and I think I freaked him out a bit. We got the frozen yogurt and sat in the park. I hugged him and admitted I freaked out a bit. He didn't get it. On the way back, I tried to explain that it was because my two worlds were colliding. We stopped on the corner and he kissed me--a long, jealousy-inducing kiss that inspired someone on the street to say, "Get a room."
Red Flags: When the bill came at the Antique Garage, he said, "So, what do I owe?" I was thoroughly unimpressed. I hate splitting things when I'm dating someone. After all, we split everything. Didn't he want to at least impress my friends by paying for me, too? If there was a time to do it, it was now. Instead, i just paid for both of us.
Diagnosis: For him: I'd like to believe that his "horrible migraine summer" has something to do with the intense feelings he's having for me. Like maybe he is so deeply--but subconsciously--terrified of the potential greatness of our relationship that it has affected his health. Even he has said he's never had this many migraines before. It's either that or an avoidance mechanism. Or maybe he's just getting a strangely lot amount of headaches.
For me: I'm clearly terrified, too, on some level.
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