I’ve talked about moving on. Changing. Learning. And growing. But I took a giant leap of faith in January. I decided it was time. Time to step out. Put myself “out there.” I was tired of spending lonely nights at home. Snuggled with Angel. She’s great. Don’t get me wrong. But conversations are a drag. One-sided. So. I put it out to the universe. I was going to start DATING. Dating? What the hell did I know about dating! I hadn’t dated in over 45 years! And even then, I wasn’t a dater! I had boyfriends. When one broke up with me, soon after, I had another. Long term. Don’t get me wrong. I didn’t have a string of boyfriends. Two, maybe three, in high school. And then. The Gregger. Two months into that. And I was engaged. So dating? I was a novice. Bar hopping? No way! Dinner alone? Never! My bold move. Starbucks. Peet’s. Head buried in my computer. Not exactly approachable in my book.
So. I threw it out. Universe. Help me. Find me a nice guy. A real one. I couldn’t face the onslaught of, dare I say, Online Dating. Ugh! I couldn’t do it. Dig through hearts, smileys, and emails. Distorted pictures, fuzzy images, and other “bs.” Somehow decipher the “good” from the “bad.” Was I so overwrought with the whole concept that I believed it would just “happen?” Again? Let the universe take charge. Whatever happened to meeting someone organically? Happenchance. The gym. Coffee shop. Grocery store. Who knew? It happens. In the movies. My dreams. But. I could hope. I had my head in the clouds. The dating clouds. But. It did. Or so I thought. I was sitting at my favorite spot one day. It was the day I decided to write again. While lost in my words, I caught a glimpse of a rather cute guy sitting at the table across from me. I felt the energy. I knew he was looking. Watching. I kept my head down. Pretended to be working. I wasn’t sure what to do. So I pretended to write. Type. Look at my book. Stay unapproachable. I have no idea what I wrote or read. I just felt energy shooting between us. When I got up to throw my cup away, he grabbed my attention. We talked. Connection. Easy. Commonalities. He took my number. My first. He texted. Again the next day. Called the next. And we planned to get together. I was a teenage girl. All over again. Butterflies. Nerves. What do I wear? What would I say? But. It was easy. Surprised me. I expected less. Or more. Hard. I don’t know. Anything but easy. But he made it easy for me. Comfortable. We talked. About everything. It was nice. I felt freer. Lighter. Having Fun. Something I thought I’d never have again.
A few fun dates. Simple. Carefree. Exactly the way I would want them to be. And then not. Wishy-washy. Games. My first lesson in the good old dating game! After being married for nearly 40 years, I dove head first into a pile of “you know what!” I questioned myself. My words. My thoughts. Everything. And it sent me backwards. Straight into a spiral. Of grief. I relived Gregger’s death. Over and over again. Ugh! I hit rock bottom. But I couldn’t allow him or “this” to control my emotions. He’s tiptoed back in and out. But I’ve learned. And moved on. Not that it’s gotten any better! Oh Lord! The stories I will tell…until next time!
If you have any stories to share, I would love to hear them! Submit to firstname.lastname@example.org