Best ever, part 2

When we left off I had just met Possibly The Love Of My Life on Mississippi street on Sunday. 

We had stayed up all night, but the adrenaline carried me through the work day. It was obvious from the start that we were falling fast. I think we each accidentally said "boyfriend" or "girlfriend" that first night. But we decided to say "potential boyfriend"/"potential girlfriend". No need to get ahead of ourselves. 

One of his first text messages to me that Monday included the signoff "ttyl PGF". 

--

We texted through the week. Wednesday we switched to phone calls. Of course I was nervous that the chemistry from Sunday wouldn't translate over the phone, but this wasn't the case.  The conversation was natural, we both hung up giddy. 

--

I had a late flight home Friday, but went directly from the airport to his house. We had planned for Saturday, but it seemed like too long to wait. Again, we couldn't stop talking. After a week there was so much to say. 

He took me to a cute brunch place before agreeing to do yard work at my dad's house. High on endorphins, he looked sweet sweating and doing service for my family. 

We had planned a marathon date, so after yard work we popped over to St. John's to hang out with the couple from the tea shop. They were nice, and dorky, in this context I started to see how dorky he is too. They had other people at the party, and I found conversation with them more engaging for some reason. 

Next we got a beer with Michael. He tried oysters for the first time ever - very adventurous. Michael asked him to tell a story. He had told me the same one on our date and it was charming. But somehow, listening with Michael it fell flat. 

We went dancing with Crystal and he tried really hard, but it just wasn't working. When I got a moment I begged off from the rest of our plans for the night. "I'm not sure what happened." I told her. 

When we were finally approaching his house it was over for me. "I'm not going to come in," I told him, and he responded with shocked silence. 

--

Internally, I'm trying to nail down my emotional process. How did the feelings I sincerely felt the previous week ebb so quickly? The obvious answer is that I really didn't know him well enough to be in love in the first place. But that's where I was. At first, I think one should be willing to see all of the small "flaws" in a positive light: everything that may eventually be framed as a cute quirk unique to your person. I think this was my attitude on date 1, but on a marathon date 2 they started to seem unacceptable for a lifetime commitment. 

We met the next night to figure out what happened, but I was really already done. We reached a relatively mutual understanding of the events. He said he isn't mad and I'm not sure if this is better or worse for me. 

--

I didn't really want to deal this week. I'm disappointed in my own failure to - what? See a situation clearly, find satisfaction in a person, address someone's feelings appropriately - take your pick. I'm spending my spare hours drinking beer with Michael and simultaneously overanalyzing and avoiding my feelings. 

"Honestly," I ask myself, "what the hell?" 

I'm angry for both of us. How many chances do we get, and how often will we meet someone who seems like a real possibility? Did I give it enough time, a thorough analysis? And how can I learn from this experience?

--

"I wrote a whole thing," I told a friend. "I thought this was it." I didn't publish it at first because it was such a special experience between the two of us - and I thought it was going somewhere. I'm still not convinced this is the correct thing to do. "But I'm mostly worried about looking like a fool," I told her. 

"But it's your truth," she told me. 

My own messy, ridiculous, embarrassing - hopefully funny in retrospect - experience. For now it just hurts. 

 

Soundtrack this week is Seven Words by Weyes Blood:

If I could change how I'm insane

If I could learn to leave my troubles behind

It's starting to hurt and I know you moved on

Telling everyone how I done you so wrong