Updated: Aug 2, 2021
“ Who will he be? Someone who wants access to my body and doesn’t give a shit about me... or someone who wants a relationship but has no idea what one is. "
On the eve of another Portland first date I have almost no expectations and so many feelings. In the past few months I have come to know myself better. I have seen some things about myself I did not see before. I have tried to get up over my own self, to understand what I do and why and question and question and question. My latest gig is to talk to myself: “What are you really doing right now?” I will ask myself aloud, my dog cocking his head at me, confused. I’ve become my own needed ally, turning my codependent energy into self-help. Tomorrow evening, I will try again with someone who left a bar, went home, and ran all the way back to give me his number. Who will he be? Someone who wants access to my body and doesn’t give a shit about me... or someone who wants a relationship but has no idea what one is...or someone who will present a version of himself that is so far from who he is that it will take the truth from me to end it? He has sent some very kind messages that do not include shots of his genitals. He has texted me “good morning” and “good night” since Friday evening when he ran into the street and then kissed me and handed me his number on a tiny piece of paper. Can I get excited when time after time I have either been stood up or met with such detached falsity that my friends stopped replying “WTF” to my post-date storytelling. It’s a different world than I once knew, and I’ve faded far from hope that any man is present enough to look into my eyes and see me, or say “yes” with any layer of meaning, or know enough to even care. But I follow through, I text back, I make the date, and I share and ask the right pre-date questions. What can I do but try and try again. For whatever reason, my heart aches but my spirit hangs on. Because if it doesn’t turn out, then I’m still here, where I am now, and I’m finally OK with that too. But if it does....there could be yet another wonderful adventure for me. And now that I know me better, I can promise you (and me) that I will never, ever give up the chance at that. It’s what it’s all about.