Dreaming the Dream

It doesn’t seem to be working out with the sailboat captain.

I’m not sure what happened. We had such a wonderful day together on our last date. Although I suppose it’s not fair to say “we.” I had such a wonderful day with him would be the correct phrasing because I can’t assume he enjoyed himself. For me it was a day of companionship and trust, trying something new and scary, lots of incredible sex and pancakes. Five of my favorite things. I hoped we would do it again and again.

But instead it’s just crickets part… oh my god I have no idea what part I’m on. I’ve lost count of the men who have appeared and subsequently disappeared. And am I really so stupid as to think he would be different?

If we were trapped inside a horrible dating cliché I would say the tides turned when I revealed I’d figured out his birthday and asked him how old he was. Or it was in the car when I asked what the W for his middle name stood for. Or the Indian and Thai restaurants I planned our future dates at.

But I can’t write him off for these trite details because I really do think highly of him. He doesn’t look or sound or act like a walking cliché. I respect him. I admire him. So if it wasn’t the birthday or the middle name or the general fishing/sizing up conversations [which were mutual by the way as I was tested on my politics, religious views and faithfulness among other topics], then it was definitely the voicemail in which I mentioned feeling like I hit the jackpot meeting him and gosh he’s swell so if he happened to be interested in spending more time with me…

I can hear you all rolling your eyes. Oh Jen, really? A voicemail to profess your love in response to his complete lack of response? Did you have to go and ruin a good thing with your impatience? Will you ever chill out and just go with the flow?

Probably not, but here’s the thing: I’m not stupid. I’m just not afraid of being vulnerable. I never have been, nor do I see it as a weakness. I’m afraid of waves and sharks and boats. But I am not afraid being vulnerable. I dive into new relationships with reckless abandon, trusting my own fortitude, just like he dives into the ocean. Whatever the risk, it’s worth the exhilaration.

So yes I’ve been disheartened, but no I do not regret the action I’ve taken. Nor will I apologize for telling someone I admire that I do in fact admire him quite a bit, even if the consequence is scaring him off and ruining a beautiful thing. No regrets. I followed my heart because that’s what I do best. Whatever comes of it I’ll know I did what was right for me.

I fully believe that one day I will meet someone who can handle this facet of me. Not in a desperate “I’m addicted to heroin and can’t stomach the fact that my wife just left me so I’m going to cling to you like a life raft” sort of way (The Ex). Not in an “Oops I’m a sociopath, lying to you about every aspect of my life and I know last week I asked your dad for your hand in marriage but this week I’m breaking up with you” sort of way (The Rebound). Just someone confident enough to say “Yah I think you’re pretty fuckin’ great too.”

It’ll happen. And maybe it’s not too late with the SC. He is a pretty laid back dude after all.

A girl can dream. So dream I will. Because dreaming is so much more fun than sitting around expecting the worst.

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