Charming, but single

Had one of those amazing, two-hour conversations with B last night. It was nice, albeit slightly painful at times.

He was talking about a girl. I choked back my feelings and offered my friendly advice and a woman’s perspective. After all, I have not spared him details of the boys in my life. Ever.

“I don’t want to sound like I’m butting in,” I said before I offered any advice.

“No, no. Any perspective you can give is good. Very good,” he said.

So we talked about her and the Relief Worker and then that lead to a conversation of fears and opening up and how hard it is to let someone in when you’ve been hurt in the past.

The fact that I’d been hurt in the past by B was danced around, although we both knew it was there. He seemed to want to acknowledge it at one point. I was saying that sometimes it is tough to want to put yourself out there and then be rejected, but you realize after doing it a few times that rejection hurts, but it doesn’t kill you. You can live to tell the tale of a broken heart, I told him.

“It hurts to put all of your cards on the table and then be left hanging out there,” I said.

He paused and sort of smiled and shifted in his seat.

“This, um, this is odd,” he said. He stopped himself.

“What?” I said. “What do you want to say? Why did you stop.”

He shook his head. I knew he wasn’t going to come clean or cop to his feelings or anything like that. I think that was the closest he’s come to ever acknowledging that he’d hurt me.

And yet he stopped short.

We talked about things I’ve always known about him — how he holds things inside and won’t let people in. We talked about why, but that’s not really mine to share.

We talked about relationships and what we want out of them.

“I wish I could be one of those people who just dates someone and breaks up with them and then starts dating someone else,” he said.

“So you want quantity over quality?” I asked. “I’d rather have something special and real than months of just getting by with something that is just okay. I’ll wait my whole life for something real. And if it never comes, then I guess I’ll just have to be enough.”

We kept talking. He is stressed and confused and any number of other things.

As we left the bar, I leaned against his truck.

“What would make you happy?” I asked him.

He paused and thought for too long.

“You think too much,” I told him. “What would make you happy right now? Don’t think about it. Stop trying to intellectualize your feelings. Just say something that would make you happy right now.”

He paused again and looked at me. “What would make you happy?”

I giggled.

“French toast,” I said coyly.

But I was lying.

Last night, while I was on the phone with the Relief Worker, I figured out why I am so hesitant and generally wishy-washy about him.

I was settled into my new Sunday night routine, watching “Desperate Housewives” and “Grey’s Anatomy” while having a glass of wine. A friend of mine was over and we were debating the relative hotness of the different doctors on the show. Very important stuff.

The Relief Worker called, so I excused myself to the balcony so as to not interrupt the television-watching. He asked what I was doing, and I told him without hesitating, “Drinking a glass of wine and watching TV with a friend.”

“Oh, you’re all snuggled up with someone?” he asked, which is a lame way of asking if I’m seeing someone.

I assured him that I wasn’t and we had a short conversation. Toward the end he said, “Well, it was good talking to you. Go enjoy your bottle of wine.”

“Glass,” I said. “I’m having a glass of wine.”

“Well, one always leads to another,” he said. “You know how that works.”

And that’s when it hit me. I am ambivalent about him because he makes me feel self-conscious about my actions and because no matter what happens, I will always be the “bad” one in the relationship.

I am an adult. I’m 25 and I drink and I wear shirts that show off my cleavage sometimes and I hobble around on three-inch heels. I sometimes smoke and I look forward to a glass of wine after a long week at work. I get manicures and so I don’t save as much money as I should and instead of drinking house wine, I’ll have a $10 martini.

I stay out (and up) late. I enjoy trashy TV shows and watch silly reality TV when I should be vacuuming or mopping or Windexing something. I eat tater tots and grilled cheese or pizza and potato chips when I should be having a salad and apple slices. I play my music too loud and I dance around my apartment in my bra in the middle of the day without shutting my blinds.

I sleep in or go to brunch instead of church on Sundays. My last thought at night before I go to bed is about what time I should set my alarm. I often skip breakfast, but I always have my coffee. I am slightly addicted to Diet Coke and at least once a week, I sneak off to the vending machine for a white chocolate Reese’s peanut butter cup.

And I am fine with it all.

I’m also a good sister and daughter. I love my family and friends. I work hard for less money than I should because I believe that I am helping people. I am a shoulder to cry on, someone who will listen and a person you can go to when you just want to laugh. I will cook you dinner (veggies only!) and make dessert.

I will dance all night for your birthday and buy you a drink when your heart is broken. I’ll give you advice I know you won’t take and I will do my best to avoid saying “I told you so” later. (I sometimes fail at this one.) You can cry to me and I will never tell anyone. You can tease me and I’ll tease back.

And what I really need is someone who is fine with it all, too. 

As the seasons change, so must the look of Charming, but single.

The new pink shoe is Christian Louboutin, much too expensive for me to afford. But I love it so very much. Very sexy (high heeled, strappy) but still very innocent (bow) while also being flirty (hot pink). Imagine that shoe with a little black dress, perfectly pedicured light pink toes and a bright-colored clutch. Very “night out dancing with the girls” or “breathtakingly gorgeous at a cocktail party.”

I wonder if I could get my landlord to waive my rent for a few months in order for me to have these shoes …

I am also updating my blogroll. I try to check the Technorati links, but I always fall behind. So, if you would like to be blogrolled, please comment on this post and tell me the name of your blog, the URL and what your favorite imported beer is and why. (Mine alternates between Hoegaarden because it is smooth and has a nice taste and Mackeson XXX because it has this great hint of coffee or chocolate.) And forgive me if it takes awhile for me to add you, I am nothing if I am not constantly overwhelmed, slacking or making excuses as to why something has not yet been done. My apologies in advance.

I’d also like to give a shout out to the Singular Man, who has twice linked to me in recent weeks without so much as a comment from me. (This is dating blog equivalent of him leaving two voicemails and me not returning them, except that I don’t think he’s trying to sleep with me, so maybe not so much.)

Anyway, go read what the Singular Man has to say about me here and here. And while you’re there, read some of his other stuff, because he is very good and he comments on an array of dating/single issues (when he is not preoccupied with bashing online dating sites).

Things are sort of on hold with the boy because he’s not here and we’re not so great on the phone. At all. It is odd. Will keep ya posted.