So I went away for an overnight with Mr. Big. He had to travel for the week for work and the location was relatively close. We knew we wouldn’t be seeing each other for a while so on an impulse, he asked if maybe I would come up to see him. At first I laughed it off. Actually, I told him that was too far to drive just to get laid. But then he said it wasn’t just about that… we could hang out, go out to dinner, and stay the night together. That was what sealed the deal. The overnight. You know what a sucker I am.
So I drove away to meet him on Sunday night and spent the night in a hotel with him. I know he was there for work. I know it wasn’t a fun trip. But for just a brief time, I felt important to him. It made me hope. And hope, as we all know, is the devil.
We had one last dinner before I headed home yesterday and while we were sitting in a booth in a nice civilized restaurant, we had the most serious conversation we’ve ever had face to face. Mr. Big told me he never wanted to get married. Ever. Because there was no benefit for him. That was bad dear friends, let me tell you. But then it got worse. Then he kept saying that “if” he met the right woman… or “someday” when he meets someone he’d consider settling down with… and it didn’t matter what came after that. It just didn’t matter. Because all I heard was that it wasn’t me. It would never be me. He already knew I wasn’t the one. I was written off, written out, and done. There was no hope.
I nearly burst into tears in the restaurant right then and there. I tried looking away, staring at the ceiling, concentrating on my silverware… but nothing helped. I could feel the lump rising up in my throat. And with each statement about what might happen if he ever meets the right gal, my throat tightened up a bit more. Mr. Big thought it was all about the marriage thing. But I couldn’t even comprehend that anymore. All I could hear is that I would never be the one.
I finally had to stop him. I looked him in the eye, and I know he saw all the tears I was refusing to shed. And I told him that is we didn’t change the subject immediately I was going to have a very female moment in the middle of our dinner. He blinked, and promptly changed the subject. I blinked and stopped threatening to cry. We moved on.
The drive home was bad. It was awful on top of horrible actually. For the first several miles I cried over what had been said. I wept hot tears because the maybe I’d been holding on to was nothing after all. I tried to steady my breathing as Mr. Big let me follow him to the freeway to get me back safely. I tried to hold on. I started sobbing as soon as he turned back to the hotel.
A few miles later I got it under control. Then I looked at the road. This was the same road that I drove back in college when I was going home after visiting the man who would be my first husband. It was the same road I had cried down so many times as we we were separated by circumstance. It was the same road that had put distance between us and broken my heart so many years ago. The exit names were all places I had known. Some of them were places I had lived.
So I cried again. I cried for what my life is and I cried for what it will never be. I cried for all of the dreams that I’ve lost over the years. I mourned the life I always dreamed of. I cried over what I have instead. I sobbed and wept. And my heart broke again driving down that road, just like it did all those years ago.
Later that night Mr. Big texted to make sure I got home okay, and to ask about that conversation. To see if I was alright. To acknowledge that I hadn’t taken it well. And so I explained. I explained that while the theory on marriage rubbed me wrong, hearing him tell me that it would never be me. Not ever. That was what did it. We stumbled around awkwardly in the conversation for a while. He didn’t understand what I needed. And for once, I found myself incapable of explaining. Words failed me. But I just needed… I needed so badly. I was so tired, and it was so late. And all I wanted was to have part of that aching need fulfilled. Something to hold on to. Some reason to believe it wasn’t all the mess it seemed to be. So I asked. I asked if he thought we might ever be more than we are now.
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What started as a fairly marginalized and private concept for the advanced cyber few of the early 90’s has mainstreamed itself now as one of the primary ways to meet your next significant other. The sheer number of books about online dating shows that online dating may not be as simple as it seems at first blush. Or at least, enough people seem to think they have discovered the secret trick to finding the perfect person online and want to make lots of money writing a book to lead others in search of the Holy Grail.
After all these years, I’m not sure there is a secret trick or a Holy Grail. Relationships are relationships no matter where you go, and let’s face it: dating is kind of silly, anyway. I’ve always felt that the key to successful dating is to keep your sense of humor and not take it or yourself too seriously.
•The profile writer says a little bit about themselves and other people take on the role of “code cracker.” Does “quirky” mean “unbearably weird”? Does “I like independent women” mean “I don’t have time for a girlfriend”? Does “Money not important” mean “need sugar mama”? Does “spiritual but not religious” mean “I don’t know what I believe so don’t ask,” or “I am a spiritual guru who has found the new path to enlightenment?”
•The profile reader scans for red flags and deal breakers, weighs them against how hot the picture is and depending on their nature uses that information or not in determining to contact the other person.
•The profile writer gets a delightful number of emails in their inbox letting them know that they have discovered a way to online Mecca. If the inbox comes up dry…the writer either re-vamps and tries to determine the offending lines, delights in their individuality or hits Amazon to buy the aforementioned online dating advice books.
•A date ensues or at least some hot and heavy cyber communication.
•Enter the old fashioned formulas for regular dating as you have taken it from online to flesh and blood.
I don’t think we can apply one set of rules against all personal ads. But these tips can help you figure out if you want to make contact.
1. Look for stock phrases. If an ad contains too many “likes children and puppies, long walks at sunset, etc” watch for possible faker or just extremely boring person whose mom wrote their ad.
2. Watch for language aimed specifically for or against one segment of the population and make sure you are ok with their criteria. Ie. “I like skinny, actress types who want to be stay at home moms and serve as arm candy at my next black tie function. If people tell you that you weigh more wet…you are the girl for me!” Just a guess, but this writer has a thing for unreality and really will want to see if you weigh more wet before asking for another date.
3. Look at the complete picture the person presents. If they list a job and hobbies that effectively tie them up every work day and all day Sat and Sunday on the golf course…know that unless you work where they work or play how they play, you are likely to have conflicting schedules at least until that mad love hits and then all bets are off.
4. Ask for clarification on things that may seem obvious if you are uncertain about their word usage. Ie. “I must have someone with conservative sexual needs.” This can be taken to mean anything from “I don’t want it very often and when I do, it needs to be of the vanilla variety,” to “I am willing to do anything between two consenting adults but don’t want to share you with anyone else.” Either, both or neither may be acceptable to you but what a bummer if you took it to mean to first when it was really the latter!
5. If the pictures look old (dated styles, baby face look, grainy, scanned picture instead of digital) they probably are old. Buyer beware.
6. Another on pictures…if it looks slightly familiar in that “He’s gorgeous but looks familiar” kind of way…you may be well served to peruse the latest Abercrombie catalogue. If the picture looks professional, you may have a scammer on your hands — so check and double check his story.
