Four Days (T-Minus 354 Days)

Well it’s been four days since I bid Sparks adieu and did the final stride of pride between our hotels. We said goodbye just as we had every other morning in the week and a half since our paths initially re-crossed, even though there was no way to know when or if it would happen again. There were no discussions of the future, no sappy farewells and certainly no tears. Just a quick kiss and one last longing stare at the door.

I’m not going to lie, four days later now seems like four weeks. 


(For the record, it's not so much I'm pining over him and the days feel long; more so I haven't had to be in the office for nearly three weeks because of all the travel so being cubed up for hours on end is an adjustment. And it gives me time to think. Or pine, maybe just a little.)

Regardless, as much as I hate to admit it, because I pride myself on being a reasonably cool and laidback woman, I do occasionally have crazy girl tendencies (who doesn’t, honestly?!). It’s not that I have grand expectations (or any for that matter) or want to make last week into anything more than it was, but I would very much like to see him again. And I really have to reign myself in from pushing too hard for that.

After all, it’s only been four days. Four freakin long days. 

Contrary to how casual I may have made it seem, I generally do not jump in bed with someone the first night after not seeing them for a year. Therefore, I am unfamiliar with the proper etiquette for this situation. I mean, what do you do when you realize you want to spend time with someone who lives seven-ish hours away? There are no casual drinks or random meetings or grabbing coffee. Everything has to be planned, purposefully executed and done with intent.

Not my areas of expertise.

And so, after a rather enjoyable hour and a half of typical getting to know each other text banter last night, I slipped up today. I went too far. I had offered a plan for a possible weekend rendezvous – under the very legitimate guise of a professional outing – but it wasn’t doable from his end. Instead of letting it go, however, I offered up a Plan B.

Really, TNT?!** Plan B?! It’s been four days woman, relax.

I was truly embarrassed for myself.

The good news is … Sparks not only humored me, but rolled with it and said the plan just might work. We’d make something work.  

Relieved, this made me recall a conversation I had several years ago after perhaps another borderline crazy girl moment on my end. I was talking to a friend and bemoaning my own stupidity when she very matter-of-factly said “you were just being yourself.” At first, I was offended, but once I thought about it, I chose to take it as someday I would meet a guy who found my occasional neurosis endearing. Maybe even adorable.

I am in absolutely no way saying that is the case here. None whatsoever. But for now, I am happy with being humored. And for the possibility of seeing him again soon. And for the chance that maybe, just maybe, he is even the slightest bit as hopeful/confused/scared shitless/intrigued/hesitant/potentially endeared as I am.

**FYI, TNT is for Tiaras and Tennis [Shoes] – realized I haven’t had to refer to myself in third person and therefore hadn’t given myself a name. It can be negotiated, though I do like the additional ACDC connotation

Flicker & Spark (T-Minus 359 Days)

Both professionally and personally, the last several weeks have been nothing short of hectic … primarily in really good ways. If you are capable of basic math, and have been paying any attention to the countdown in the headers, you would see we have passed 365 days (or actually 366 – thank you Leap Year for that extra 24-hour buffer) until the 30th birthday.

Now that the big 2-9 has come and gone, I feel like it’s important to make sure everyone is up to speed. And so, what I planned as a series of flashback updates on the burgeoning relationship with M-P has gone by the wayside and will now be summed up in a few sentences.

He met my parents. I met his friends. I felt a flicker of emotion when he looked at me one night that made me cave. He burned me CDs. I took him for granted and he still came back for more. We claimed sides of the bed.  

But through the month and a half, I felt like something was missing. I couldn’t put a finger on it, but I just knew that I didn’t feel the spark that I thought I should. I kept waiting for it to come though because there are so many wonderful things about M-P. I wanted the spark to be there.

However, the flicker died. The spark never came.

But because I am wimp when it comes to confrontation, I ignored the situation and blamed my current work and travel schedule, which is to say the least, crazy. In the midst of the madness, however, I unexpectedly encountered something (someone) that would emphasize all of the shortcomings in M-P’s and my relationship.

About a week and a half ago, while away on a work trip, I ran into a guy who I have known through the job for several years and always thought was cute, but was never in a position to do something about it. Well, after one very drunk night out, we were in that position. And subsequently in several other positions over the coming days.

From the first time we kissed, I felt the spark. When we hold hands, when we say goodnight, when we're sarcastically ripping each other or wittily bantering, there are sparks. The kind I always wanted to feel. 

I write about this now, only because I officially ended things with M-P, not necessarily because I think the sparks are going to ignite into a full-fledged fire, but because I realized it isn’t fair to anyone to keep poking at the smoking coals to find something that isn’t there.

(You know I like extended metaphors. Deal with it.)

Though only time will tell, any future with Sparks is unknown, and probably pretty unlikely. We live several hours away from each other and have similarly hectic lifestyles. Part of me is sad to feel everything I always thought I should with someone, but beyond happy to know it’s out there and that I was not overestimating the importance of the feelings.

V-Day Flashback (T-Minus 373 Days)

If you do the math, the time from the first date until Valentine’s Day (T-Minus 396 Days) was five days. Match-Point and I managed to go out on a round two date between the two occasions, but I certainly did not plan on even acknowledging him on February 14. I quite honestly was going to blatantly ignore him and the whole day.


So imagine my surprise when I got a text that Monday morning asking if I had plans for the evening. Other than watching The Bachelor with a fellow single friend and drinking copious amounts of wine, I did not.


There was no way I would violate single chick code and ditch her though, so I agreed to meet him for a drink beforehand and then moving on my merry way. Long story short, said single friend ended up feeling under the weather, canceled our plans and suddenly I had the whole night free, a fact I offered up to M-P.


What would happen next was not the least bit expected … he offered to make me dinner.
Remember that part in The Holiday where Cameron Diaz’s character starts having esophageal spasms with her inability to show emotion? Well that was me. Full on hyperventilating, constricted airway, hot mess scenario. I mean, my palms are getting sweaty just flashing back to it.  


Making a girl dinner on Valentine’s Day after two only dates? We hadn’t even kissed yet. I mean, seriously. Dude.


After a near complete meltdown, Sassy Hair Friend talked me off the ledge, assured me I was not totally crazy and suggested I offer an alternative plan for the night. 


Which is how we ended up at my favorite, borderline seedy townie bar on Valentine’s Day, playing darts and pool, drinking beer, eating pizza and getting to know each other in a totally laid-back manner. Though the majority of my friends – male and female – were shocked and appalled to learn of my venue request, I have to be honest -- it was quite possibly the best V-Day I have ever had.


And it ended with a night of the best first kisses I have ever had as well.

I'm Back! (T-Minus 374 Days)

Well it’s been awhile. To say the very least.

It has been an exciting month since I last wrote and a lot has happened, some of which I am still trying to process and some of which I still haven’t figured out how to approach processing. I am going to do my best to re-enact it in chronological order by blog without giving away the current status of things.

And so, we flash back to Feb. 9 (T-Minus 401 Days), the day after my last blog and the night that will go down as the first date with Mr. NDNS’s friend … who now will be known as Match-Point.  M-P for short. Mostly because my dear friend ES thought it needed to be play off match.com and the sports girl in me liked the parallel to winning with game – set – match.

Now, if I remember correctly, this date had been pushed back from each of the previous two nights after M-P came down with a winter bug that left him sniffling, sneezing and otherwise in a state to make a horrible first impression. If I were a betting woman, I would have put my money on a Texas-sized hangover, but I rolled with it, texted him a photo of chicken noodle soup and told him to get his act together by Wednesday.

Which he did.

We met at a great little bar in a neighborhood halfway between where we both live and had a few beers, swapping stories about all the people we both know, places we both frequent and the times we previously should have met. It actually turns out we did meet once this past summer when I was out with NDNS.

Bygones.

Leaving the bar that night, I wasn’t sure how to gauge the date. I remember hugging goodbye and thinking he smelled good though, and that I wanted to smell him again. I think I was probably a little drunk, but I said yes when he asked if he could call me the next day and again when asked if I would be interested in going out again.