Falling in Love with Writing

I didn't fall easily. I was cautious at first; wasn't sure I could fall in love. In fact, it took a lot of dates before I could relax enough to become consumed by it. 

My first date was in 2012. I accepted the invitation more as therapy, to be honest, but the experience was decent. I'd been hesitant to even try dating, but it turned out not to be awful. Even though that date had its embarrassing moments, I was ready to accept a second one.

The second date, though, turned into a boring slog. I kept trying to come up with interesting activities, but the day went on and on, and nothing I suggested turned out to be fun. Even though I was determined to make it work, in the end we mutually agreed to part ways. We swore we'd continue to be friends. 

Eventually I met someone new, someone slightly dangerous. I was intrigued. We dated for almost a year, even though I was growing exhausted by my date's constant harping on history. I thought, hey, we're here in the present! Do you have to keep going back to the past? Ignorant as I was, I still maintained that relationship, thinking it was good enough, 'til a stranger pulled me aside and said, "Just give it up already!"

I'd thought I was being a better person by sticking with an unpalatable situation, so when that stupid dream was shattered, I was hurt and embarrassed. I swore off dating all together.

It took about six months before I was ready to try dating again. This time I knew what I wanted out of a relationship---primarily, one that flowed easily, that didn't discombobulate me; one that made me look forward to the next time we got together. Things began to click. I almost convinced myself I was in love at last. But when I introduced my date to people, they seemed wholly uninterested. I kept trying to find affirmation. I tried with about a hundred people in New York, but they all yawned. So I expanded my horizons, but still couldn't find anyone who was impressed. I probably shouldn't have relied so much on other people's opinions, but my insecurity kept bubbling up and I began to doubt my feelings. I came to believe I just wasn't dateable. 

It was a simple coffee date that did it. I went into it thinking, well, it'll be short; no commitment. I'll just relax and be myself. It turned out to be fun! I sat there at the table and just told my story. I didn't meander off into some tale about a person my date didn't know or care about. I was straightforward and confident. And yes, that date was short, but it was long enough for me to know, to know that I wanted to go out again. In fact, we went out again seven more times. And each time, it became easier to be the real me. A couple of times were sort of letdowns, but I knew that every date doesn't exactly work out the way you want it to.

Eventually, I wanted more. I wanted a real, long-term relationship. Put a ring on it? Sure, that thought crossed my mind. The two of us were definitely compatible, and whatever chinks occurred during some of our dates, I knew we had built a true foundation.

The dates I had with others that didn't work out? It was all me. I hadn't learned to trust myself; trust my feelings. I stumbled around, made a fool of myself. Tried too hard. I thought I needed to follow everyone's advice, instead of my own heart. Still, I don't regret those first dates. If they hadn't been complete failures, I wouldn't have learned anything about relationships.

Looking back on my dating history, I think I expected to fall in love the very first time. How naive. Life is never that simple. I had to fight my way through the chaff to find the one that was meant for me. And I definitely had to work on myself---a lot.

So, is everything blissful now? Of course not. My story isn't a romance novel. But things are pretty good. Not everyone approves of our relationship, but the people who've gotten to know us as a couple are pretty positive, and that's the cherry on top. What really matters, though, is that we know we belong together.

There's nothing better than true love.