Dating in one's thirties is a totally different ball game than dating in one's twenties. I mean, we're talking cricket to basketball, people. I never realized this until I met the Dude.

In our twenties, people don't think as deeply about the long term. Sure, they think about it. I sure did. But it's a different way of thinking than it is in our thirties. Meet a new guy who is really great? Let's introduce him to my friends after two dates! What, your family wants to invite me over for dinner now that you've mentioned my name? Sure, no problem! I guess I was much more carefree in my twenties when it came to men. I thought I knew who I was, but I can clearly see that I was oblivious at the time. My idea of life was much more finite. Let's rush in and get married because that's what you do when you're a twenty-something!

Only thing is, I never got married.

So then, the thirties come chugging along. I woke up one morning and discovered I was in a whole new decade bracket. I looked around me and realized that my life was painted with deeper shades than before. I was more firmly planted in my own skin. I'd accomplished so much and didn't need those accomplishments to be a part of anyone else's life. These were my goals I'd achieved, and they had nothing to do with marriage, kids, or anything that required someone else's legal signature. The walls around me were purchased by me. The business cards in my wallet proudly held my name, followed by those cute little "M.A." letters. My pension would not be shared with anyone else unless one day I allowed it to be. I was a grown-ass woman, and I was doing just fine.

It's hard to toss in another person into this well-balanced equation. But when you least expect it, a quality man will step out of the wings and surprise you as the leading lady in your own life. And that's what's happened to me. I tried pushing him away, really I did, but he just kept coming back and I kept finding him more and more interesting. But now there are so many more stakes in place.

We have so much more to lose now.

Losing is key. I don't mean losing one's heart or anything trite like that. No, I mean losing what one worked so hard to establish. The older we get the more set in our ways we get. It's not so much stubbornness, really, but familiarity with routine. I'm the conductor of my life's own orchestra, and it sounds beautiful to my ears. The same can be said for the Dude. He's figured out a thing or two over his 37 years walking this earth. And now we're trying to bring our two orchestras together to see how lovely that music is able to sound (or if it is just a cacophony of craziness).

There's so much more at stake now. We can share each other's ideas and bodily secretions, but it's scary to blend our worlds. In our thirties, we are taking longer to get to know one another, enjoying the time spent between only us without involving anyone else. We mention one another to the people in our lives, but we don't discuss it with each other. It is very much a living, breathing entity that exists only in the here and now. We can be committed to one another, but not committed to "us." We fall into that undefinable category.

Other people in my life who know I've met someone refer to him as my boyfriend. I allow them to do so because I know of no other term to use. In some ways it is so much more casual than dating as a twenty-something, but in other ways it represents a much deeper unspokenness. In our thirties we've experienced life a bit more fully, experienced pain more profoundly. We appreciate the moments of bliss and contentment more than someone less experienced in life is capable of doing.

I'm learning as I go with this whole thirty-something dating thing. I have moments where I turn back into the younger version of myself, wondering and contemplating the whys and hows. But then I step back and push out all the sounds around me, pushing out the voices of others and the long held beliefs of "it should be this way," and listen to the only sound that really matters--the sound of my own voice. That voice tells me that everything will be ok. It reminds me to breath, to be here and now, and to suck up the marrow of this life I'm now living. And it tells me that I'm happy, and that having this 37 year old man in my life is part of that happiness. And then I realize that she's right, she the voice deep inside, because she is telling me that everything will be ok. And it will.

Labels: thirty-something dating

I thought I'd screwed things up. I thought things would be awkward. That we'd be pleasant and cordial, but that he'd pull away from me. It was only a week ago that both moments happened: I asked him "the question," and then a couple days later a strange guy called him in a drunken stupor, telling him to take me off the market or the drunk guy would. That's not exactly the best way to entice a man after all. He wasn't bothered by it; it didn't phase him. Then just a week later, he's leaving my house heading to work in the morning. I don't want to let him go, and he doesn't want to stop kissing me goodbye. I'm trying desperately not to fall for him. I don't want to get hurt if it doesn't work out. He's the first guy I've let in in years, other than one of my favorite people who is easy to let in because he lives 3000 miles away. I think it is too late for not getting hurt. It's inevitable at this point. I've let him in, in more ways than one. He wasn't what I was looking for. I really wasn't looking for anyone, though. I was very hesitant for a while. He didn't meet some of my requirements set out once on a mental list. But these limitations are all changeable. The innate qualities are all there, every single one. Who he is is exactly what I'm looking for. That's what makes this all so hard. And so wonderful. I just don't know. The one thing I do know is that my bed is so much more comfortable with him in it.

Labels: falling hard for the Dude

I put out my hand and twisted the knob. I stood for a moment, frozen, wondering if I really wanted to know what stood behind the door. I'd seen flashes of it through the small window at the top of the door frame, but not enough to have a clear picture. But I needed to know.

Slowly I turned, twisting my wrist subtly without sound. I peeked my head in, but it was dark. I gently stepped inside, creeping on tip-toes. I could smell you there, not far away. I was afraid of the dark, but not afraid of you. I stumbled around a bit, knocking over a few small items, but you stayed in the back, in the dark, letting me work my way towards you.

I was clumsy, so clumsy. Nothing came out right. But I had enough grace to keep from falling. I walked around in circles, stubbing my toe, tripping over my feet. You stood there silently, watching and waiting. Slowly you crept out, giving me a glimpse of your outline. But what you revealed wasn't what I thought you'd show. It was too blurry, too fuzzy, forcing me to dig for my glasses. Why don't I have my glasses to see you clearly?

You tip-toed around the dark space, and I could see your general form. You kept one eye on me with each step you took. But you weren't walking in the direction I wanted. I couldn't get a good enough look at you. Somehow, though, I still wasn't afraid of you. Afraid of the room, yes, but not of you.

I was frustrated. I wanted to see you clearly, but knew my wish would not be granted if I didn't reveal my intentions first. So, I stepped into the bold light in the middle of the room, feeling naked and exposed. It stunned you. You didn't expect such a bold statement from me. I honestly thought that if I made such a bold move, you would follow. But you didn't. You tip-toed some more, staying in the room, but not coming close enough to the light.

And I knew. I knew you wanted to do this dance, this tip-toeing dance around the dark circle until you were ready to step into the light. I finally learned what was behind the door, and it wasn't what I had hoped for.

I waved goodbye and scurried out the door, closing it behind me. You stood at the door, watching me walk away. Just before I was out of reach, you cracked open the door, leaving it ajar.

It would be so much easier if you left it shut.

Labels: not hearing what I'd hoped to hear

Oh what an difference an afternoon can make.

I just finished writing the second of two papers that are due tomorrow, and I feel about a thousand pounds lighter. Perspective is once again becoming my friend as she helps to lighten my path so I can continue my journey.

When I'm upset, I usually try to keep it to myself. I don't mean keep it inside and bury it; I definitely need to let it out. I mean that I don't like to put out into the world negative vibes. I'm constantly told by people, "You always have a smile on your face." Am I always happy? Of course not. Do I choose to hold on to any glimmer of happiness and hope? You betcha. I don't want to be the kind of person who taints anyone else's experience. I'm silly and giggly and dorky. That's who I am, and I like that this is who I am. I want people to hear my laughter more than they hear my words. And I think I'm pretty good at that.

So today is another day. I'm taking a deep breath. I'm still stressed out, needing to get things taken care of before my flight tomorrow, but I'm not overwhelmed. I'm back to who I am. I'm back to being strong and courageous. But mostly, I'm back to smiling.

Labels: giggly

Stress has a bad way of making me think things are so much worse than they are. I make a big deal out of nothing, and the littlest things set me off. I've been stressed out this week (and last), and things won't be easing up until at least this Friday. I keep telling myself to just make it through the week, but sometimes it doesn't seem possible.

Because I'm already feeling crabby and edgy, I don't have the patience for this relationship nonsense. The beginnings of relationships seem to always be filled with euphoric highs and miserable lows without much in between. It's the cliche of riding a roller coaster, except roller coasters make me want to vomit. And I feel like barfing up a lung right now.

When the going gets tough, I feel like just bailing out. The thing is, the Dude is totally clueless that I feel like this right now. I just got off the phone with him a moment ago. He ended up feeling much better after having an awful day, and I feel crappier. I shouldn't have called him back after he left me a message. I was doing just fine, procrastinating writing a paper I have due on Wednesday, when he called and sounded like he was crying on the message. Worried, I called back right away even though I'd been looking forward to this television program for weeks. He wasn't crying at all, just tired. The crabby part of me now wishes he'd been crying so he'd have to suffer a bit. (Yes, I really am that terrible sometimes.)

There's something I've been wanting to say to him for several days now but haven't had the chance. I thought I would have the chance tonight, so I feel particularly let down that I didn't. Now this thing is going to continue to bother me, which will only make me pull back from him. I guess it's good timing since I'll be flying up to Northern California for a few days anyhow. The chance to get away will be nice. It'll be nice not to deal with him for a few days.

I know I just feel like this because I'm so stressed out. I have two papers due this Wednesday (I finished the long one last night thankfully), this work trip to get trained for a big grant that my colleague and I won, and errands coming out of my ass. I just want the week to be over. I want to have a calm moment to be able to open up to the Dude and tell him what's on my mind. The rational side of me (which isn't present now) knows he'll respond well to what I have to say. But the irrational side of me keeps letting these thoughts fester, which only make me feel worse. I want my class to be over with. I want to be on vacation. I want to just...relax.

I don't know why I'm writing here. I'm not exactly little Miss Sunshine right now. I should probably just try to get some sleep (except for the fact that I'm not tired in the least).

Somebody pass me a happy pill, please.

Labels: crabby