I got an email from Coldplay Guy. Basically, he is dropping hints to get me to ask him out. But he won't actually sac it up and do the asking himself.
What the hell kind of insanity is that?
Tell me, what is the point of describing a "comfortable and not too crowded" bar in your work neighborhood if you don't follow up with, "would you like to meet for a drink there sometime?" Does he think his ambivalence will win me over? Because it won't.
Don't get me wrong, I am not above suggesting meeting up. I was quick to do the initiating with Film Felix, because he was worth taking initiative for. With Coldplay Guy being wishy-washy and stringing me along, he is telling me I'm not worth the work. Which is deeply foolish of him, because I so am.
I won't be writing back to Coldplay Guy. The ambivalence is mutual.
Unfortunately, I'm also doing a little more moping over the Film Felix non-situation. Just a tiny bit. Sorry, I can't help it. I'll stop soon, I promise. This lackluster correspondence with Coldplay Guy just affirms how rarely I really connect with a person; I already know he could never measure up to someone like Film Felix.
NotCarrie recently wrote about how, ever since she refocused her relationship priorities and decided to forgo frivolous male pursuits, she feels like she lost her game. I can identify with that sentiment to some extent. Except it's not a matter of feeling like I am incapable of attracting a man; I'm still confident in my feminine wiles. It's more that there's no one for me to attract. I mean nobody. I go out and I don't see any men I want to talk to. Not one. Which isn't to say I don't still talk to guys, but I don't lead them on by giving them my number.
If that's not an affirmation that I made the right choice to cut out dating, I don't know what is.
Right now, I've got an all-or-nothing mentality. I'd rather hold out for someone really special than have dead-end flings. I'm too young to settle with a man who's nice but doesn't get the blood rushing in my veins. I know initial attraction fades and dopamine levels diminish over the years, which is all the more reason for me to desire that initial euphoria (might as well enjoy it while it lasts).
I want to make a distinction here that I am not feeling pessimistic or hopeless. I'm just coming to grips with the cold reality that what I want might take a long time to come around. I'm trying not to let that matter, because the rest of my life is pretty damn great, and I have all these things to look forward to. Parties and more books for the book club (I loved the last discussion we had!) and various friend meet-ups and a trip at the end of the month to glamorous destinations. And, generally speaking, I've been having this odd feeling that something big is about to happen. My song of the moment is "Waiting for the Miracle" by Leonard Cohen:
Yeah let's do something crazy,
something absolutely wrong
while we're waiting
for the miracle, for the miracle to come.
It's easy and not a little tempting to focus on what's lacking. I'm working on not doing that.
A couple of nights ago, as I was falling asleep, I realized that I no longer curl up on one side of the bed, leaving space for a non-existent person next to me. I have no idea when I retrained my limbs to stretch out across the full mattress or how long I've been sleeping in the center of my bed.
I'm learning to enjoy the extra room.