He’s not the guy

I’ve dabbled in the dating world this year, and realized all too soon that I just wasn’t ready.

It happens, I know. Some people can jump right into it after a breakup or divorce, they need to find someone to ease the discomfort, or they crave affection and attention, human touch. Sometimes you just need to know if you’re still ‘marketable’, attractive enough, to attract someone new…that isn’t a freak or total creep, preferably.

But that’s not me, obviously. I need time to figure out where I belong, how I fit in, and what I truly want for the next phase of my life. I need to know that my kids are secure and ready for another possible change to everyday life. I need to feel that the time is right for all of us, it’s not just about me.

It was so much easier when I was in high school (sigh)

So, I’ve made it clear to anyone who will listen, that I am not looking for anyone. To date or otherwise. I am focusing inward instead of outward, marketable or not.

I had this conversation with a new friend recently, who is also a hired consultant that has helped me forge this new path in my life. She has been really enlightening and supportive, and I don’t know how I would have survived all of this upheaval in my world, intact with my sanity, without her guidance and expertise.

A short while after my divorce was final, we were meeting about whatever, she asked how I was doing and how the dating world was treating me. I explained that I was no longer in the market. It was too overwhelming and disappointing. I was getting out of the game before I was too battered and bruised to want to play anymore. I just wasn’t ready. She understood, she was encouraging and supportive of my attitude, and agreed with me that sometimes it just takes longer than you think.

But…I should let her know when I was “ready” because she has the “perfect” guy for me.

All I could think was, ‘and so it begins’. The sitcom set-up that I’ve watched play out a million times on TV. Blind dates and stiff introductions set-up by well-meaning friends and family, grinning at you both like idiots because you are ‘so perfect for each other’ and they knew it! They know a guy from the office, from the gym, from their cousin’s friend. They truly just want to see you happy, smiling and excited with pep in your step, and with something positive and uplifting to talk about.

They want to see you whole again.

I politely explained that I was really not ready, and probably wouldn’t be for quite some time. My focus had changed, and it wasn’t all about me feeling good about myself, through someone else’s eyes, finally. She nodded and said that she understood, but just to let her know when I was ready because she didn’t want to ruin this perfect match with poor timing.

That was a couple of months ago.

We recently met again about other details of my new life, she sent an email that morning explaining that she was bringing her partner along to meet me and to help answer my questions. It was unexpected, but I didn’t think anything of it.

The morning that they came to my door, I was in jeans and a hoody from the Hot Chocolate race and simple makeup, my basic everyday attire. Her colleague was pleasant and friendly, a clean cut middle aged guy, nothing out of the ordinary. It actually made me a bit nervous to have a man join us for some reason, usually the two of us worked on my stuff while we talked like girlfriends. I liked it that way, swapping stories of our lives while planning my future, it didn’t feel so “necessary” then. Now there was a guy with a crisp white shirt and tie standing at my door, his leather satchel slung over a shoulder, smiling but in a business like manner.

This was serious. There wouldn’t be any girl talk this time.

I was a bit bummed, but shook it off. Every meeting shouldn’t be a coffee klatch I told myself. I didn’t hire her to be my friend…did I?

As the morning went on, and we talked about my accounts, he easily took over the conversation as the expert on the subject, and not only answered my questions but asked them of me too. He was teaching me how to look at it all, more than directing me, which I liked.

He was complimentary about my grasp of everything. I felt more confident.

Sprinkled into the conversation were personal details about himself, tossed in from my friend. He was divorced, from a narcissist, and he agreed with the adage of “if I knew then what I know now” with a chuckle. He’s a beekeeper as a hobby, and loves it, stings and all. He said beekeeping was therapeutic and relaxing, he also cans his own honey.

Being the thoughtful hostess that I am, I offered something to drink along with the cookies that I had baked the day before. I also offered the Italian lemon cookies that I pick up from the farmers market each week, joking that I “knew a guy”. That lead us to the talk of farmers markets in the area, which markets we visit and love, and the idea that I often buy local honey, usually with nuts mixed in. We must have talked about this for fifteen minutes. He asked to see my jar of honey, and was so interested in the idea of it, that he took a picture of it to use as a reference later.

As the conversation moved on, he mentioned his talent for betting on horses as a way to compare financial risk taking – then went on to say his good luck with betting on them comes from the fact that he owns horses, and has always loved them. He was a new age kind of guy, in my opinion, white collar work with a farmer’s love of nature.

An urban gardener type, unlike most of the men that I had recently met, and I liked that.

Suddenly I realized that I found him much more attractive than I had when I first opened the door, only an hour before. I now noticed that he was cute, easy to talk to, had a personable way about him. We had things in common that I never would have guessed.

That’s when the thought occurred to me, was this the guy that she wanted to set me up with?

My mind began whirling, trying to piece it all together. This was a sneaky way to make the introductions, not what I was expecting at all, but I wasn’t that upset about it. I started thinking about the idea of going out with him, or someone like him, and it didn’t scare me. It felt right and fitting. He was funny, honest, personable, interesting and smart. He was the best of both worlds, white collar job with a love and appreciation of nature. It was like finding a unicorn sitting in my kitchen!

I began to smile a bit more, with a slight flirt in my voice, and it felt good. Natural.

Once they left, after our two hour meeting, I shook my head and smiled some more. She was sneaky, I had to admit, but she knew me better than I had ever imagined. I didn’t expect anything that morning, so I wasn’t nervous or overthinking, and I was dressed like I always am – not trying to impress. A great way to meet someone, definitely more organic and less pressure. Her instincts about this match seemed pretty dead on, too – how did she figure me out so quickly?

I was impressed. And a little excited, I will admit.

I waited to hear from her, maybe giving me a little hint about what I had already figured out, patting herself on the back for being so sly, and yet so right. But I didn’t hear from her.

I figured that she must be busy, the weekend was coming, etc. Or maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t nearly as impressed with me, as she had promised him he would be? Maybe he didn’t think we had as much in common as I did, or I just wasn’t his type? And why would she share someone else’s disappointment with someone who didn’t even know there was a motive to meeting them to begin with?

Better to leave it unsaid, making it easier to go on with a professional relationship.

As the day went on, I couldn’t stand not knowing if this was the setup, and if it was did it go as well on his end as mine. Did he even ask about me? So I texted her and asked, “just out of curiosity, is he the guy that you wanted to introduce to me?” I didn’t want to seem too excited or give her too much credit…yet. I was playing it cool.

She responded almost immediately, “No, it was Jeff :)”

I stared at the message for a minute, sitting with the small disappointment in my gut for a moment. He wasn’t the guy. This guy that sat at my kitchen table today, seeming to possess all of the qualities that I would be interested in, surprising me with my level of interest and tiny hope that he felt it too, that guy.

He wasn’t the guy?

He wasn’t the guy.

‘Jeff’ had better be pretty amazing when the time is right, since he’s ‘the guy’. The bar has been set high now, maybe too high. And I didn’t even know I was picking up the bar.

Advertisements

2 thoughts on “He’s not the guy

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s