turn around, bright eyes

I'm a thousand years old now.  Okay, maybe just 35, but same/same.  Occasionally I am reminded, inadvertently, that somehow I am still capable of being turned into a silly teenaged girl by a guy.

This post (aww hell, really most of this blog), makes it seem like I am just a boy crazy creature, always in search of the next new possibility.  Truth?  That might be a little true because come on, hope springs eternal.  But I have friends and family and the gym and my solo time and books and blogging and all kinds of things that I enjoy wholly on a daily basis. 

I'm rambling, so let's just get to the point here.

Let's start with T.  He's annoying me.  No joke.  We've had some minor form of communication every day since I last saw him on June 20th, usually just a couple of texts.  He added me on Facebook while I was in Florida, and I accepted even though I'm typically wary of FB friendships so early on. 

The problem?  I feel like this whole thing has sputtered in place.  He didn't suggest getting together again until Sunday or Monday, and asked me about going to a pub trivia thing.  We barely communicate.  When we do, he usually drops off mid conversation and acts like that's normal.  He forgets at least 75% of what I say.  He knew the Florida trip was for my birthday, he knew it was Monday...at one point.  He knew SUNDAY, but forgot by Monday.  REALLY?

He has not yet offered to come out my way.  Everything we've done has been on his side of town save for our first date, which was halfway. 

He's told me before, "I don't go to Maryland, so don't ever ask."

He seems to have no problem just being MIA or NOT REMEMBERING most of what I say, but then he just pops back up at his leisure to have the exact amount of conversation he wants before his attention span wanders and he goes off again.

Cut to last night.  I figure T is not really wowing me lately, so I'm keeping the door open to others for sure.  I started talking to a new guy on Friday evening, and we agreed to meet last night.  I went in with sort of blah expectations, and even when I saw him I thought he was cute in a dorky kind of way, and that it was going to be one of those "perfectly nice, perfectly fine, no spark" kind of dates.

We had dinner in Chinatown, and it went well enough, but nothing noteworthy really.  I did try some crab & avocado dip, which I wouldn't have otherwise.  ;-)  I don't like to look non-adventurous with food on dates!

Post dinner we walk outside and are heading back over to Metro.  As we are standing at the intersection, he mentions something about it being a Barnes Dance intersection.  Huh?  So he explains it to me, and I find myself kind of fascinated by the new information.  We get to the Metro stop and we just hang out there and talk for awhile.  Quite awhile.  And he uses big words that I'm unfamiliar with, and I love it, because usually people are asking ME what the words I'm using mean. 

He talks about his job, and he talks about Alaska, where he used to live.  We joke and flirt and I loosen up some, and I marvel at how much more attractive he is getting before my very eyes.  He's very touchy, but in a good way, once he can tell I'm interested.  I liked it, even though I swear I spent the last hour alternately blushing and giggling and acting like a total girl.  I couldn't help it.  He made me laugh, and he spoke so dynamically, and I was kind of entranced.

We finally head down the escalator to the metro, and he stands on the step below me, facing me.  He holds eye contact almost the entire way on both escalators.  Down on the platform, we hug.  He teases me that I already told him he can't kiss me, and I tell him he can.  So we exchanged three quick kisses on the platform, and I went to catch my train.  I think during the hug he said something about seeing me again, I said sure.

The train ride home I spent smiling like a moron.  Same for the bus ride.  I said screw the rules and texted him an hour or two later and said, "You, sir, threw me way off my game."  He wrote back about an hour later, "Ha!  And?"  I responded that he only hugged me goodbye to be polite (he'd told me before we met that he always hugs regardless just out of politeness).  He wrote back (at 4 am, mind you!) that he didn't kiss to be polite.  I texted him around 11am and said, "Fair enough." and then made some comment about how today was even more chaotic than yesterday, as we both had super busy days yesterday.

You know what I've gotten since?  Nothing. 

And I know it seems like I'm overreacting because he could just be busy, but I just have this sinking feeling that this insanely dynamic, hilarious, charming, cute, exciting guy, the one I finally feel something awesome and interesting and worthwhile with, is not going to like me back.

I've tried to not be that girl all day, the one side-eyeing her phone.  The one running back over the intereaction in our last hour...his hand on the small of my back, the long held eye contact on the escalator, the warm hug and quick kisses goodbye. 

But apparently I am that girl.

And that also makes me the girl who gets 2-3 texts from T in a row this afternoon and feels annoyed by them.  And the girl who doesn't want to go out with T tomorrow, who finds him boring and lackluster by comparison.  Who already feels sad about losing the possibility of something sparkling and exciting with the other. 

He's brilliantly smart.  He's funny and clever and quick-witted, and a surprisingly adept flirt.  He gave me crazy butterflies, he made me blush for over an hour, he made me excited in a way I haven't been in so long.

And as the day has worn on, I've just felt this progressively growing feeling of dread in my stomach, and it's weird because it was one date, a few hours of time, so why do I feel this sense of loss when I never had anything to begin with?

Sometimes dating stresses me out so much.  Last night was exhilirating, but this day after stuff, the not knowing, the waiting, the fear of it all, I forget how hard this part is.  I get so used to being the one deciding, the one who determines if things proceed or not, and I forget what it's like to be on the other side.  And I hate it.  It's hard.

It was one date.  I get that.  But it was full of sparkle and shine and wit and he was so dynamic and unlike anyone I'd gone out with before.  And now I'm trying hard to buck up, to quit being so overdramatic, to pull it all back into perspective.  If I misread him and his affection and flirting and suggestion of getting together again, then I misread him.  If he doesn't want me, I don't want him.  All those logical things.  So much logic.

Sometimes logic is overrated.