Loosening the Reins

During the past two months of talking with Dr. Head she has mostly confirmed what I already knew but what I didn’t know is that it’s Ok to just let things ride. Sit back, disengage and maybe just maybe things / people won’t fall to pieces, and if they do, well then that’s what happens. It’s such a new way to live, so utterly freeing and remarkably stress reducing. From the outside it may sound selfish or even a bit assholery (I do struggle with that a little, the fine line between self renewal and being a dick, but it’s a process), but the lightness that has flowed into me after feeling so weighed down and overwhelmed is worth any small grain of guilt that still bubbles to the surface. Last week Dr. Head even admitted through her usually well fortified shield of non-emotional attachment to me that, “I don’t know if it is an emotional or chemical change but in talking with you, you have a genuine happiness.” and she grinned widely. YES, Dr. Head, the ME is returning…. poco a poco.

I ascribe this return to ME not only to Dr. Head’s gentle assistance (and my work) but also to a week that was filled with a heaping load of good times with good friends and the return of Mr. Woods. My week of drinks and food, laughs, hugs, fortifying emails and bracing face book comments was perfection, and not a tear was shed. Emotions appear to be equaling out and I can once again enjoy the warm love and support that flows in my direction without weeping at a midtown deli counter.

The return of Mr. Woods initially brought a sense of unrest, confusion and a general feeling of WTF is going on??!! (see last post). As our third date approached my mounting assumptions that our little “thing” was dead in the water increased to such a degree that I was exchanging emails with a new suitor on OkCupid just 10 minutes before Mr. Woods’ arrival. However, much to my surprise, a little real life face to face time combined with his charm and a boat load of unsolicited apologies alleviated all (ok most) of my internal freak out. Our evening was delightful and within a few hours I was looking into his deep brown eyes stating, “I don’t want to go on any more first dates, I only want to date you.” to which he answered, “You don’t have to, I want that too.” Sure label me a fool for falling, showing all my cards, allowing Mr. Woods’ charm to satiate my logical feelings of doubt, or whatever, but what is my other choice? Stay guarded and untrusting? Just like Dr. Head suggested, sit back and enjoy the ride and if shit falls apart, then that’s what happens. So that’s what I’m trying to do, not holding on tightly, not trying to figure out where this will go, or if it will go. I will accept Mr. Woods’ words as the truth and try NOT to devalue everything my ears hear and my body feels.

30 seconds after Mr. Woods left my apartment I deleted my OkCupid profile and for the first time since 1999 I am not actively engaged in the hunt for a first date. It’s new and scary but this text from Mr. Woods quieted my internal vampire screams of “He’s using you, it’s all a lie! Don’t fall for it! You are too exposed!”:

“I'm still on a high from the other night...how did I go a month without seeing you?!”

It’s A Fine Line

For decades I have desperately attempted to navigate the razor’s edge between being optimistic, laid back, open and accepting AND fully delusional when it comes to the mystery that is man. I read blogs written by men and women about men and women, thinking that maybe I’ll get some insight, some clues as to how to happily traverse the bizarre world that is adult dating but I’m always left feeling….. ummmm am I missing something?

Over the past 30 days Mr. Woods and I enjoyed a fun sporadic email exchange, some raunchy, some not, while he was overseas on business.  We casually discussed things that we would like to do upon his return to NYC and both acknowledged that we were excited to reunite and continue seeing each other.  Well Mr. Woods has returned from abroad, resides in my city, works just blocks from office, and is.... umm Mr. Woods, hello? Hello Mr. Woods, you there?

 Since Monday I have been receiving random emails that state things like, 

“Hey what’s new with you? Been really busy here.”,

“What’s going on? I’ve been slammed at work.” ,

“What are you up to? I’m still trying to get back into the fast city pace, so much to catch up on.” 

and usually end with “Hey I can’t wait to see you!” Well Mr. Woods it’s actually REALLY easy to see me just exit your office turn left and walk six blocks – ta da there I am! While in Zürich he suggested that we meet for lunch since we worked so close to each other and it would be a nice mid-day break to meet up…. Ohhh sweetness. But now I feel like reaching through my gmail screen grabbing his throat and screaming out JUST ASK ME OUT MOTHER FUCKER – I am here, RIGHT HERE you know I’m interested and we are in the same city so we can STOP emailing and just see each other! But what I end up writing is (cause I’m trying to restrict my downward spiral into crazytown), “Hi Ya! Everything is great,  (blah blah blah), got a new hair cut, (blah blah blah…). (Insert something funny.) Then close with – “Catch up on that work quickly so that we can hang out.” Or  “So looking to forward to seeing you too, hope you’ve gotten over your jet lag.” or “I can’t wait to see you too, good thing you made it back for Octoberfest.” – yeah, I’ll write ANYTHING to let him know that 1 – I’m cool and not needy  and 2 – YES I WANT TO SEE YOU, really I do, seriously, in the real world, you name the date and time and I will be there. However instead of receiving romantic date info what I get is another Mr. Woods email stating, “That sounds great, we should do that!” or “Would love to see your new hair cut!”….. ughhhh not “should” or “would” – just DO it, or not, don’t do it, that’s Ok too. If I never see Mr. Woods again that’s cool too but this in the middle shit is lame ass.  

And because I am a women who never wants to be labeled as “that crazy bitch”  - cause maybe he does really want to see me but his schedule is tight right now  - I feel that I have to remain open and enthusiastic to these ridiculous electronic missives while continuing to reinforce in clear language (so that I’m not accused of forcing men to read my mind) that I am romantically interested and DO want to date him. BUT this is the razor’s edge, am I being confidently optimistic while accepting his time limitations or am I escaping the reality that he’s just not into me (which is fine) but how does one know without being perceived as a clingy psycho chick?

Oh and side note you would think I would get extra points since Mr. Woods KNOWS (from our past two dates) that if he takes me out I’m a sure thing. And not just a “sure” thing, but a kick ass fun time sure thing. Seriously I’m a chick who drinks fancy beer with the sex drive of a 16 year old gay boy who doesn’t want to be married and lives alone with no kids; this should be a no brainer Mr. Woods. Get on it!

Not So Really Real

In the past I sang Swason’s praises for her fierce grasp of reality and her unwavering commitment to telling me the truth, however that woman is a black and white cookie of cerebral dichotomy because she is also the BESTEST pal for engaging in, and collaborating with, my super reality or as some may call it – fantasy world. 

Our adjusted realities stem from the fact that we both still harbor a bit of our 12 year old pink sparkly sticker collecting/ friendship bracelet making girl just under our savvy city lady outer shell (sorry Swason if I am writing out of turn, however I believe you will agree with me here) and when we unite in a dork-fest fueled with wine (or not) we quickly break through our jaded all-knowing logical crust and delight in our combined powers of modified universe creation

Swason is currently indulging my revised reality that I’m only one call away from Lufthansa ‘s reservations desk to becoming a trophy wife of an international banker stationed in Zurich. There I am sipping red wine and feasting on exotic cheeses while peacefully lounging on the deck of my Alpine chalet as I spend my lazy days transferring my harmonica virtuosity for that of the alpenhorn. I won’t share Swason’s ‘reality’ with my readers but suffice to say that not only do I need to purchase a parka for my mountain top hideaway, Swason has informed me to start shopping for cowboy boots because her Texan wedding is gonna ROCK it! 

The Truth Is…

During my 45 minutes with Dr. Head this week… back up a moment, 45 minutes really?  In 45 minutes I can only get through like 1.5 stories then I have no time for feedback, ughh. I really must learn to edit my entraining narratives if I expect to get anything out of this process.  Ya know what, therapy for dull story tellers must be extremely cost effective. Anyways back to my appointment. I spent a good chunk of my time unraveling the specifics regarding my past 12 months of upheaval including my TWO lady cancer scares and my multiple leg operations. After I rattled off the various emotionally offending situations I wrapped it all up with, “I guess it was just a bunch of little things that came together to create this perfect storm.” To which Dr. Head said, “OR it could be that you experienced a massive amount of VERY big things that all happened in a short amount of time?”  Literally I think I heard a bell ring when she said it. I felt like - FUCK YEAH, this past 12 months HAS  been a total BITCH and of course I am overwhelmed and falling apart.  I may only give the doctor 30 seconds to get a word in while I reach for a tissue but when she does that woman is speaking the truth, and the best part is she is totally on my side.

Mr. Woods and I are staying in touch, as promised, while he keeps the World Bank afloat overseas (or whatever it is he does). We have a light email exchange going on and it feels a little like old timey courting. He’s still sweet with just the right amount of sauce and it’s perfect for what I need at this moment. I’ll admit that I smile when Mr. Woods’ emails appear in my inbox and I blush when crafting my replies.  Yeah... I'm crushing on Mr. Woods.

Je t'aime Paris

Mr. Woods headed off to Zurich for a month long business trip before we could enjoy a “triple play” on our dating score board. Oh Mr. Woods, so international, glad he is keeping the 1% solvent since my paycheck depends on their financial triumphs. However even though we didn’t get face time prior to wheels up we did make plans… hold on – what?! Ok well tentative plans. There are plans to continue our dating upon his return AND plans to stay in touch over the next thirty days. Fingers crossed by “stay in touch” he actually meant “I’m going to fly you to Paris for a long weekend”. I mean, cause really, that IS what he meant. What could top PARIS as a third date venue, the man would be crazy NOT to fly me out.

I finally told Dr. Head about The Invisible Man and as I spoke I saw her eye balls turn into dollar signs and I believe I heard an audible whisper of “ka-CHING!” I’m sure she had been thinking, “sigh…. Middle aged body issues, family issues, dead father… yawn” then I hit her with The Invisible Man assault and she was locked and loaded. Yeah Dr. Head, you didn’t see that coming, I was saving the meaty juicy shit – now let’s DO THIS!