Mr. Unavailable #185: An Upward Trend

See The Voice, Cracking the Code, Quasi-Quadrille, Imperfections, Cheap Empanadas and Slow and Steady... for the background on this one.

“See, you don’t even know if you like him!” This was Kevin talking. He was giving me shit. For freaking out so much about whether or not #185 liked me. And then, like what happened on the ice-skating date, me doing a 180 and not feeling a whole lot of like for #185.

It was exhausting, really. All the second-guessing I was doing. I don’t recommend it.

The next few dates, however, demonstrated a definite emotional uptick for both me and #185. There were a couple of hiccups, of course, but there was a definite upward trend.

Date #9: Our first movie date, to see Argo. He’d already gotten the tickets by the time I showed up and was browsing clothes in a thrift store across the street. When I walked into the thrift store, he lit up, clearly excited to see me. And I was excited to see him.

Date #10: My first trip to his place in Jersey. He was late, so we missed the train he’d wanted to get. We stood in front of the Departures board not touching each other. I wanted to hug him, hold him, something, but something else told me not to. Maybe he was nervous. Maybe I was nervous. Finally, on the train, he put his hand on my leg and I leaned my head on his shoulder. We got burgers at a local spot in town and then picked up ice cream on our way back to his place, which was a five-minute walk from his parents’ place. There was a weird distance at times, but I figured that was normal for two people getting to know each other. We messed around that night and then the next day I took a train back into the city. “I would have driven you back but my car needs to go to the shop,” he said.

Date #11: #185 texted during the workday: “Do you still want to do take-in and movie at your place or something more special?” I opted for something more special. He came over and we walked across town to Fig and Olive, an expansive but still urban-feeling restaurant in the Meatpacking District. Somehow, on the walk over, we started talking about writing.

“Yeah,” I said. “You know how sometimes I say I’m going to The Bean to do some writing?”

“I meant to ask you about that,” he said.

“Well, I’m working on a book. D’you wanna know what it’s called?”

I held my breath as he said he did.

“Me and Mister Unavailable”

I held my breath again.

“Oh, well, that’s kind of my problem, too.”

“What do you mean?” I asked. He could have been admitting he was the unavailable one. But he wasn’t.

“I end up with unavailable women.”

I was surprised. Pleasantly. There was silence again and I wondered if he was thinking what I was thinking: Which one of us is going to be the unavailable one in the end?

I hoped that mutual availability would prevail, but, if this was to be over, that, for once, the unavailable one would be me.

Dinner was actually quite lovely. I noticed a shift happening. Some sort of deepening, or opening up. Melancholia had seeped in by the time we parted ways at the subway station.

Date #12: We’d made plans for Friday but because of a blizzard, and because he was a responsible adult, he opted to go straight home rather than risk the possibility of getting “stuck” in the city if he’d stayed for our date. My sense of codependence got ruffled, but deep down, I knew it was for the best. We met up on Sunday instead, when I treated him to Guy-I’m-Dating Appreciation Day. He’d been shelling out for all of our previous dates, so I figured it was time for me to ante up. We met up at the International Center for Photography and cuddled in front of the Weegees.

Afterward, we went to see The Master and were so early that we killed time by holding each other close in the foyer of the theater lobby. Pheromones were released, heartbeats were felt. I asked if he had plans for the summer.

“Not really. I’m not much of a planner. I mean, I used to go down to a rented house on the Jersey Shore, but my ex-girlfriend always organized it, so it was all of her friends. I don’t really have any friends.”

“You only need a few good ones,” I said. “And you have your brothers.” He’d previously told me that he and his brothers had an ESP-like closeness.

“I suppose,” he said. We did Thai food afterward, choosing a New York magazine recommended-place called Zabb Elee, which must mean, “The food is so spicy, you can’t even eat it.”

He was sweet about the minor fiasco. “Want to go somewhere else?” he asked. “No, it’s fine,” I said. Back at my place, we made out for a while. He didn’t want to go home. “What time is your train?” I asked.

I draped myself over him as he checked his phone. He sighed. “It looks like I have to be going right about now.”

“I feel like the train is my competition. You’re always running off to get it.”

“I know,” he said sadly. We kissed until the very last second he had to be out the door.

Because he’d left in such a hurry, he’d left his phone behind. I emailed him to let him know. He wrote back: “Yeah, I realized it just as the F was pulling away from the station. What do you say to a dinner date tomorrow? If you have plans I can zip up to your office during lunch or just meet right after work. I'm easy. Thanks again for tonight!”

Date #13: It was raining, again, when we met up at a pizza place on 12^th street in the Village. There was electricity in the air. The waiter sat us at a gigantic table. “You feel so far away from me,” he said. It felt like we were this close to sitting on the same side of the table, but restraint triumphed. There were children one table over. He had to catch an early train and, again, the impending separation felt painful. We put it off as long as we could, holding each other in front of the restaurant under some scaffolding and then again for a few minutes under his umbrella in Union Square after I offered to walk him there. Leaving him, I felt sad. A sadness so full it bordered on joy.

Signs of Hope: There were many feelings happening.

Red Flags: He doesn’t really have any friends? And he lives so close to his parents.

Turning Point: A definite upward trend occurred somewhere in the vicinity of dates 12 and 13.

Diagnosis: Now the question is: Will one of us prove to be unavailable, will this end for a real reason or will this last?