Out of those 973 views on a particular online dating website that will not be named, I’ve had a few nibbles. Last Saturday night there was a date with a very interesting person, a humanitarian, originally from Southeast Asia. A shy, mad scientist-type who unfortunately did not have a clue about personal hygiene. I first discovered this at Barnes and Noble, where we were browsing around and I was like, what’s that smell? It took me a minute to realize that it was him.
So he, unfortunately, like the milf-guy, became a NEXT. Call me shallow, but no matter how brilliant and interesting you are, if you don’t bathe regularly, I can’t get with you. This is the problem with internet dating: these is no scratch-and-sniff test. I wish him luck in finding love.
Fortunately, I had my night covered because I went and saw Burn After Reading, a twisted comedy which totally rocked my world (and is also set in Washington, DC, by the way). Love, love, love the Coen brothers, even if No Country for Old Men was so violent that it gave me PTSD.
Next up are a few others with whom I have been exchanging phone numbers and emails - two single dads, a nightclub manager, and a doctor. But to my chagrin, I am not putting much, if any effort, into arranging dates with them. I have even been avoiding some of their phone calls, and find myself taking up to a day (or two) to return texts and emails.
Can it be true: I’m really too exhausted to date?
Sometimes I feel like all I want is a hookup: someone to come over and service me excellently, cleanly, safely, to give a whole lot and not expect anything in return, and then kiss me goodbye and hit the road before my kid does his nightly wake up thing. This is clearly a fantasy. And I know that I do, the vast majority of the time, want more than this.
(In my current state, I might even be too tired to get serviced. I could probably muster up a second wind for it, though.)
I do want more than just a booty call. I crave real intimacy, true connection with another human being. A partner in all things. A believing mirror who brings the very best out in me, as I do in him.
There is a wonderful man on the horizon, whom I have not mentioned yet, perhaps out of superstitiousness. It is as if I conjured him because his kindness feels like the answer to so many prayers. (I hope he won’t mind that I am blogging about him, just a little.) I also met him online but he is in another state quite far away. This is the one who is on my mind when I wake up in the morning lately, and whose voice is the last I hear before I succumb to dreams. Perhaps it is the unavailability of him that has me hooked. Part of me is scared that it might be complete fantasy. Part of me waits for the bubble to pop. The other part of me says it’s ok to let myself fall, to trust in the unfolding of whatever this is and whatever I might learn.
I don’t know what will come of our sweet bi-coastal connection, but I do know that if you are going to get into a LDR, Skype makes it a lot more bearable.
This morning, blasting “Dreams” by The Cranberries in my Ipod while riding the bus to work, I felt so to-my-core connected with all that is. Life shimmered and shined all around me, intoxicating me. And I was on nothing but caffeine. Then the thoughts came rumbling in.
I noticed something strange when I listened to what was going on inside of me. After all these months and months of longing, all this searching and striving for love, there is now a part of me that is reticent to re-attach to a partner. It doesn’t feel like fear or putting up walls. I have gotten oddly comfortable in this life of 24/7 single mamahood. It’s become a part of my identity, a part that I kind of like. Who would have thought? For so long it felt like an overwhelming life circumstance, one that I must immediately be rescued from by the first knight who came along.
But now…the lines from that amazing Ani DiFranco song ring through my ears: “I ain’t no damsel in distress/I don’t need to be rescued.”
This morning was one of those a-ha moments, a wonderful moment, because I realized that I am feeling more complete than I ever have in my life. I am not merely “single” - I am whole, just as I am.
I never, ever, thought this would be possible without a man. Now, if and when he comes along, he will not be a necessity, but a marvelous addition to an extraordinary life.
Welcome to this blog - my chronicle of the illuminating, character-building path of single parenthood. I'm making this up as I go along. My life is my practice, and my five year-old son is my greatest teacher.