On Dating...

So, I've tried to immerse myself in the dating world, given that I am attempting to fully and finally move on from Narc. This is not an easy task, as I am still in love with him and probably will be for quite some time. That said, how much of myself do I have to emotionally expend to casually date?

I think I first made the decision to really do it when at my birthday party, Jake's girlfriend offered to set me up with a friend of hers. She is a total matchmaker. It's in her blood. I was mad at Narc, having just fought with him when he left to go drinking with his friends, so I agreed that she could give that guy my phone number.

I didn't think much about it in the following few weeks because I was caught up in my surgery and the holidays and my general anxiety about Narc cheating on me. As you know, I broke up with him in that horribly sad fight on the morning of New Year's Eve. I was feeling very weak at the time and feared that my iron count might be low from all of the surgical blood loss. Plus, I have low iron to begin with and take prescription pills for that. I had scheduled an appointment to get my blood checked and was sitting in the waiting room of the doctor's office when I heard a woman call my name. It was Jake's girlfriend. Even though I had only met her once before and even though I was a teary, bleary mess with hardly a touch of makeup on, she recognized me and came over to say hello.

"Did that guy ever call you?" she asked.

I told her that I hadn't heard from him and I told her about my breakup with Narc.

"Good riddance to him! The guy is a loser," she said. "You deserve so much better!"

We talked about her most recent (pre-Jake) breakup and about how she moved on. She insisted that plentiful dating was the cure. She suggested an online profile.

"Oh God, that sounds awful," I said. "I wouldn't know what to write. I can't stand the idea of packaging and selling myself like that!"

"Don't worry, I'll help you with it!"

I was convinced that our paths crossed that afternoon for a reason and I resolved to take new risks and to try to truly move on.

I was scared of dating. In some ways, I still am. First and foremost, I have never tried dating sober and I couldn't imagine taking my clothes off in front of a stranger without the lubrication of alcohol. All of my friends laughed at that idea and told me that dating didn't necessarily mean taking my clothes off. But I guess, being new to dating, my only real experience lies in drunken one-night-stands. What is dating without taking your clothes off? Somehow, that idea seemed even scarier to me.

In any case, the guy finally emailed me and we set up a coffee date for the first week of January. The only problem was that in the interim, Narc and I got "back together" and he became my boyfriend. I kept the date anyway. That afternoon I was shopping with Anxious, and bought some smoking green eyeshadow at the Mac counter. I was so nervous to meet this guy, but when I arrived, I realized that all my fears were unfounded. He was just some nerdy, nice, smart guy. I was afraid of being judged, of not being pretty enough, of not knowing what to say... But I ended up feeling pretty gorgeous and smart and felt for the first time that I have choice. I think my old M-O was to wait for someone to show interest in me and then to just take that person hostage. I so don't need to do that anymore.

Anyway, the date was fine, but there a was no real chemistry. Besides, I was back with Narc and felt guilty for even meeting this guy. I tucked it away as a neat little reference point for future dating and I moved on.

Narc and I remained officially "together" for another two weeks. After the second breakup I was devastated and could hardly breathe. As much as I was bolstered by my good friends and family, withdrawal from him was sharp and painful and I could hardly bear it. I texted Jake about my awful withdrawal pains and asked if I could meet with him and his girlfriend for the help she promised setting up an online profile.

So, we met the following week after a Thursday night AA meeting at a little cafe on the Upper East Side. I really like her (I should probably give her a proper blog-name. How about Shadkhen!). After dinner and conversation, the three of us went back to Jake's place to work on my profile. She wrote something cute and breezy that didn't sound at all like me, and pulled some pictures off of my facebook page. Then, it was just a matter of waiting.

Well, there are plenty of guys looking for love, that's for sure. Many of the men who have contacted me are just not to my liking. But there was one guy who seemed cute enough and also interesting. He works in equities, but also plays bass in a band. I thought it was an okay balance. We emailed back and forth a bit via the website before he sent me his phone number and asked me to call him. I was a little annoyed at being asked to take the initiative (I want to be courted, for god's sake!) but I sucked it up and made the phone call. We played phone tag for another day before I finally got a hold of him while I was at my parents house on Long Island.

He had a sexy voice, which is very important to me, and seemed nice enough, but it was the most awkward conversation I've ever had in my entire life. It was so artificial and weird. In any case, we set up a coffee date for the following Thursday.

I met him not far from Union Square and we had a quick lunch. Everything that came out of my mouth seemed to impressive him. Well-- whether or not he meant it, he kept on remarking about how "impressive" I am.

If I'm impressing you so much, you must not be smart enough for me, I thought.

I realize that I have to be careful though. I'm one of those people who doesn't want to be a member of any club that would accept me as a member. A sign of low self-esteem? Probably.

It was a nice lunch. I wasn't totally feeling him, but I wasn't sure if that were due to lack of chemistry or due to my total emotional confusion. I just have a really rusty radar and I'm not used to trusting it. He said that he wanted to see me again, and right away. He asked if I were free for dinner that night. I agreed to meet him for a quick bite.

From there, I was off to get my roots colored. I was so unsettled by the experience of a date with someone other than Narc, that I freaked out and told them to make me a blond. (My hair was a dark brownish-red). About halfway through the bleaching process I freaked out again and told them to keep it red, but a blondish red. It actually turned out really pretty. It's a reddish strawberry blond now. I might go blonder this summer, but I'm not sure. There's something about going blond following a boob-job that just doesn't sit right with me!

Anyway, I went to AA after getting my hair colored and then back downtown to meet him at a little cafe in the West Village called La Lanterna. Our conversation over dinner was fine-- passable, I guess. But I was still having a really hard time sorting through my feelings. He was telling me that he's a fan of Star Trek, Next Generation. I laughed and told him that I had never seen the show but was willing to remain open minded.

"I'll have to show you an episode," he said.

He said a lot of things like that. When I mentioned the opera he said "we'll have to go!" When he mentioned roller-blading he said "I'll have to teach you!" When I mentioned a road-trip I once took he said "We'll have to go on a road trip!" It was weird.

After dinner he suggested a walk. We walked past Lupa.

"I'll have to take you to eat there!" he said.

It was a cold night and I was freezing. I didn't want to go for a "drink" with him. I sort of just wanted to go home. He, however, didn't want the night to end.

"We could go back to my place and watch an episode of Star Trek," he suggested.

Of course I knew what that meant. But, I found myself being rather passive and robotic, and for some reason, agreed.

He lived around the corner in a grimy studio apartment with a large flat-screen TV. The futon was at a weird angle to the television.

"You'll hurt your neck. Better off sitting on the bed," he said.

Ugh.

But, I did.

Anyway, I don't have to go into every detail in order for you to figure out what happened next. He started trying to kiss me and make out with me. At first, I tried to resist a little, but I just couldn't deal with the discomfort of putting him off, so at some point, I just decided to detach and let it happen.

"Do you have a condom?" I asked.

"Yes!" he exclaimed, running to get one.

I think I completely surprised him with my candid offer of sex. Why did I do it? I just didn't feel like making out with him anymore, nor did I feel like having to find a way to make my exit.

As Cherubino put it-- "With you, Hyde, you always choose to be miserable rather than be uncomfortable!"

The next thing I knew, there was some guy making a nauseatingly dreamy face on top of me, with Star Trek playing in the background. I didn't really want to be there. And I hadn't had sex with anyone except Narc since September, 2005. Ugh. What was I doing???

Afterwards, I tried to make an exit, but he kept pulling me back in and telling me that he wanted to do it again. He apologized over and over for finishing too fast.

"I haven't had sex in a month," he said.

I didn't care-- I was grateful for the fast finish. And besides, a guy should never apologize for his performance. It wasn't attractive.

I ended up staying a while longer.

"I wish you could spend the night just like this," he said, pulling me onto his chest.

I didn't like how slim he felt compared to Narc. I was starting to feel rotten.

When I finally got out of there, yanking on my jeans and making a hasty exit, my head was spinning. The guy was nice enough to give me cab fare, but it somehow felt even more gross to be handed a $20 bill on my way out the door. That's when I texted Narc.

My head is spinning. Everything is so fucked up right now, I said.

All I know is that I miss you and I still love you and I'm dumb for writing this text, but I don't care.

Anyway, that was that. He texted me the next day, but I never wrote back. I decided to let that one go.

I had a fun weekend, in which I put it all out of my mind. On Friday night I went out with Jake and Shadkhen (and got free drinks all night, thanks to my low-cut shirt) and on Saturday night, I went out for dinner, drinks at Tao and dancing with the girls for Valentine's Day. Fun, fun, fun!

On Sunday morning, I met my friend Farb for brunch near Gramercy. While we were eating, the waiter came over with a note for me.

I would love to take you to dinner sometime. Perhaps even tonight? It read.

It was signed with a name and a phone number. Farb and I were a bit bewildered and didn't know from whom the note came. The waiter told us it was from the general manager of the restaurant next door and that he had been in the restaurant but had since left. Very weird-- why did he not come over himself or at least try to make eye contact with me? Farb asked the hostess to point him out to us if he came back. She said he was a nice guy, not sketchy, and when he came back in, she signaled to us.

He was really cute. I could only see him from across the room, but he looked sort of like Hugh Grant, with a lot of stubble. He was wearing a suit with an open collar and no tie.

"He's hot. You should call him," Farb concluded.

I agreed. But who does that kind of thing? Who calls random phone numbers passed to them by waiters?

Hyde-- that's who.

I was happy to be able to access my old Hyde free-spirit-ness without any drugs or alcohol in the mix. I sent him a text the next day.

Hi. You sent me your phone number via the waiter at brunch yesterday morning. I have to ask why you didn't come over and say hello yourself. :) --Hyde

He wrote back pretty quickly:
I didn't want to be intrusive. Would you like to meet later on for a coffee? Around 7?

Anyway, we went back and forth for a while, making a plan. I wrote again:

Ok. So-- Irving & 17th at 9-ish? How will I know you? Or will you just recognize me?

I'll recognize you. How can I forget? came his reply.

So, I got dressed and headed out. (Before I left, I stopped by to say hi to NDN and Tamika. She was having some drama about having cancelled for a friend's bachelorette party.)

I got to the coffee shop first and sat on a bench outside, smoking a cigarette. A charming guy approached. I kind of knew it was him, but played it as if I didn't.

"Do you have a light...Hyde?" he asked.

This guy was definitely a slickster. He had a bad boy vibe, and I couldn't help but be attracted to that.

It turns out that he is 33 and is from Tel Aviv. He was a bartender there and followed a girlfriend to NY three years ago, although they've been broken up for a year and a half. (When he asked me about my last relationship, I tried to skirt the issue, and only said that I was coming out of one). He is also a short story writer and has started taking a class in screenwriting. (Yeah-- I know). We had really great conversation chemistry, talking about everything from the metaphysics of history to religion, philosophy, travel and food. He is really into food and wine (two things I can't really partake of) and was going on about the sensual nature of food that has been crafted with intention.

He tried to extend the date a little, but I had to be up early to teach and was scared I would end up giving a repeat performance of the Thursday night debacle. So, instead, we shared a cab and he dropped me on my corner. Before I had a chance to make it to my front door, he had written me a text:

I enjoyed your company, Hyde. Have sweet dreams. I would like to see you again soon.

I didn't answer his text.

The next day I got another text from him:

Hyde, I'm going to leave the next meeting in your hands. I know it is hard to get used to others. Ciao beautiful.

I wasn't sure what to make of that. Why is he leaving it in my hands? Didn't he leave it in my hands to call him in the first place? I like when guys take charge, so I was a little annoyed. I waited a day before writing back:

Well, this week is turning out to be pretty busy but maybe dinner or a drink next week... I enjoyed our meeting on Monday.

His response:
Hi Hyde. I had a good time. Wish it could be longer... I can make myself available in the beginning of next week.

So-- that's that. We'll see if anything comes of it. In the meantime, I have a possible date tonight, picked out of the deluge of improbable matches coming through the online profile. Some 40 year old guy wants to take me to the Met Museum. We still have to work out the logistics.

Bottom line-- no one can accuse me of not putting myself out there.

And that's Hyde "on dating."

love,
h