Epiphany

Yesterday was Date #2 with Truffle Man.

I was a little bit nervous to meet up with Truffle Man, as I'd had a pleasant time with him on our last date, and didn't want to expect too much or be too hopeful. I also had a hard time with the outfit decision...usually by date 2 I am letting it all hang out (if not already on date 1) but I'm trying to be more demure in my old age, as I've mentioned before. I settled on a halter top with a short but respectable skirt and flat sandals. I looked casual yet put together. Cute with a hint of sexy, but not obvious.

Imagine my surprise when I got to the restaurant and Truffle Man was wearing a Hawaiian shirt, khaki shorts, and Birkenstocks.

Yup, Birkenstocks.

I do not condone this outfit even if he were going to the beach. Which he wasn't. He was meeting me at 8pm for a dinner...granted it wasn't a fancy dinner, but it was our second date, and dammit, I have to worry about how I look, why the fuck doesn't he???

I was giving myself a hard time inside my head for being the kind of girl who cares about such things, but honestly, it was hard to allow myself to look past it. But I did, because he's nice, and I enjoy his company. But I couldn't help feeling like, in throwing on such an ensemble, he just didn't give a flying fuck about our date (or...even worse, he thought very carefully about it, and that was the outfit that he came up with, which is really frightening..so I try not to think about that).

I concentrated on our food and the conversation that took place for the next 2 hrs. Light flirting went into play, and I eased up about the bad outfit.

It was becoming increasingly clear that he was enjoying my company, and he hinted several times about seeing me again...doing things in the future...all very nice, very good things. We went to my local bar, had a drink...and then I started to get tired.

Now I know me, if I like a guy, tired be damned...I will rally. But all of a sudden I just really wanted to go. So he walked me home. And I realized that he was about the same height as me. And I was wearing flats, remember...I got to my apartment and I think he was waiting for an invite up. I hugged him goodbye, kissed him sort of on the mouth and thanked him for a good time. He looked disappointed. I was relieved.

Don't get me wrong, if he asks me out again (which I think he will) I will say yes. I have not completely given up on this. I don't care that much about the outfit. What I care about is that I don't feel attracted enough to him, and as much as I could learn to feel attracted to him, I'm just not conditioned that way. I truly believe that you like who you like, and that is just the way it goes.

I know you are all reading this and shaking your heads and thinking about all the times I wished I had a nice guy and all the times I cried over Remax2 and all the times I hated that I was single. But here's what I have been realizing over and over...I am not going to settle. I have been single for too long now, and I'm kind of ok with it...I want to be the type of person who doesn't need instant animal magnetism to be with a man. But I'm not. I cannot "learn" to be attracted to someone. It's not in my genetic makeup. I'm not going to date someone just for the sake of not being alone...as tempting as it can be. Maybe something will click for me the next time I see him. Or maybe he's another candidate for the Friend Zone.

It's not him, it's ME.

The Friend Zone

Several months back I met a guy through some friends that I was extremely attracted to, and we hit it off like two kids in a sandbox. We've stayed in touch, invited each other to things, hoped to bump into each other at other things, but schedules did not allow us to cross paths again. Until last week.

He invited me out for drinks Sat night, just sort of out of the blue...truth be told I wasn't all that excited about it...so much time had gone by since we first met, I could barely remember what he looked like.

Which became apparent when I walked into the bar and looked right at him, not realizing who he was! Ha!

Now, I was not under any illusion that this meetup was actually a date...I mean, it took this long to get it together, how interested could he possibly be?

After several hours of nonstop laughing, at ourselves and others...playing tunes on the jukebox, and light touching, a shoulder here, a thigh there...it was late, and time to go home. Separately. There was definite talk of additional meetups, and I'm not 100% sure that he WASNT into me to a small degree...and I am definitely, definitely interested in him...but I've thrown myself under that bus called "the friend zone", yet again, I'm afraid.

Once upon a time, there was a girl in me who would never have hesitated to seize the moment, take what I thought I deserved and not worry about the consequences...my last breakup I can't even count the amount of lovers that I accumulated in a one year period, literally...recklessly stomping through life without a care in the world.

This time around, I have had my share of encounters, yes...but somewhere along the way I have become a big pussy, wishing and wanting and hoping but not DOING. Worrying about consequences or being rejected. Liquid courage isn't even helping these days.

I have now accumulated a nice collection of man friends...not that this is such a horrible thing, but really, do I NEED more man friends? How do I cross the line from friend zone to fuck zone?