I had decided not to write anything more about my
relationship with Tim. First dates—awesome ones at that—made for a welcome,
happier tone in my posts. I felt there was also a unique story to be told in
having a budding romance put on hold by a pre-planned six-week escape from my
rural home. Returning to British Columbia, I wanted to keep the rest of the
relationship private. Let it grow and blossom in private.
But then he snipped that beautiful blossom, stomped on it,
picked it up and yanked off each colorful petal, all the way down to He loves me not. Some of the most
stunning flowers have tragically short growing seasons. Getting dumped sucks.
And so I’m back to blogging. My site has a long track record
of chronicling isolation and dating woes. Aren’t you tired of it? Have you
really ogled every cat video on
YouTube? (If so, may I suggest this clip with talking nachos? It
garnered repeated viewings and hearty laughter from my cousins at the cottage
last week. But then, my aunt was generously refilling everyone’s wine glasses.)
I could be hateful. I’ll leave that to my comrades on
Twitter. They’ve endearingly shown their support by referring to Tim as a
douche, an a**hole and a cognitively and visually challenged bat. Dan made me
laugh out loud—no, I will never opt for the overused, now meaningless
“LOL”—when he tweeted, “I say we destroy him.” We need people like that. I
think of Elizabeth Perkins and Jim Belushi in “About Last Night”. (The original
movie, adapted from what is likely a superior David Mamet play.) Removed from
the immediacy of the situation, they diffuse things and ensure that negativity
doesn’t fester within. If things take a comical bent, all the better.
Truth is, I don’t have a drop of anger for Tim. I am deeply
frustrated, disappointed, disheartened and just plain sad. (Sorry, anger.
There’s no room for you!) Dumping happens. I get that. I am not immune. (I
never get a flu shot as I have a faint-inducing aversion to needles, but if
someone created a dumping shot, I’d be first in line. Both arms for safe
measure. Let me just lie here on the floor first.) Before I left for the
summer, Tim and I could not have had better dates. Even this week, Tim talked
about the second date that didn’t seem to end. He referred to us being in a
bubble. He talked of the sparks from the date before I headed to L.A. It was
not a one-sided feeling. I had every reason to believe in our potential.
Had I stuck around this summer, I doubt I’d be blogging
about Tim. The momentum would not have been interrupted. But I had made a
commitment to be in Los Angeles for five weeks. I served as
dogsitter/housesitter for a very close friend. And, really, before Tim popped
up, there was nothing I needed more than a long vacation in La-la Land. After
my darkest spring ever, I needed the summer retreat.
L.A. served me well, but it created too much distance much
too soon. We never got back on track. Our last date showed glimmers of what we’d
had. The conversation was inquisitive, an exchange of sharing our perspectives
which continued to feel in sync. It was playful, punctuated by at least one
long, glorious laugh. I never thought a nudging conversation about progressing
physically would kill it all.
The disappointing end to something that had such a promising
start leaves me where I was pre-Tim. I am profoundly bewildered. After getting
a glimpse at something great, the state of bewilderment is even greater. Didn’t
think that was possible.
When people don’t go the “He’s a douche” route, they show
support with empty, hopeful statements.
“He wasn’t the one.”
“The right guy will come when you least expect it.”
“You will find love. Be open and he will come.”
Fortune cookie sentiments. How do I remain hopeful after
nine years of hopelessness? If he is
out there, what the hell is he waiting for? Where is he hiding? And why is he hiding? It is cruel to
continue to dangle the thought of him
in front of me all this time. This is the slowest form of torture.
This one did not work out. He was not The One. Fine. His quick exit affirms that. Okay. But I need
something more substantial than a fortune cookie for sustenance. (Does anybody
even eat those dang things?) I need real hope. I need a sign. Hell, I need The One. Sooner rather than later. This
week would be dandy. Next week will do.
Please let the waiting be over.
6 comments:
Part One
RG, I've hesitated commenting on any of your posts related to what's happened between you and Tim. As I'm sure you're aware, I tend to want to fix everything, and I don't believe you want that from me. Besides, in this case, I can't fix anything at all (as much as I'd dearly love to, because I know how much you deserve THE ONE to come into your life and love you deeply).
I will say this, though (you knew I'd have to add something, right?). I've never met you, and we're not close personal friends. But I've read everything you've written for years, and, assuming you've represented yourself honestly, I feel I know you well, really well. I've also been able to read through the lines of what you've written and seen things you can't see because you're too close to it, because you're living it.
In two of the last three posts, you've asked the question, "What now?" I'll tell you what now.
This is not about Tim. This is not about you and Tim. This is about you. You have no control over what happens outside of you. Yes, you can keep trying to find THE ONE, and you should. Yes, you should continue to put yourself out there, because you want to be sure you’re in the right place, at the right time. Hermits will never find anyone. Love will evade them every time.
Maybe I have this wrong, but it seems to me you give all (or most?) of your attention to the external you, but not so much to the internal. Dude, you are handsome as hell, your smile is stunning, and your body is killer. But you still can't get yourself a husband. What’s up?
As I read your posts, I don't see a real commitment to internal change and growth. If you can look the way you do and still not get a man, then something else going on. In my opinion, that something else is you're not committed to dealing with the stuff inside. That stuff is what holds you back, and what will continue to hold you back until you deal with it.
As long as you write in your blog about your journey to find someone (which I want to read about), I think you must include what you’re doing to address some of the stuff, some of the baggage that sabotages you. How are you growing as a man first, and as a gay man second? What reading, what research, are you doing on the subject? What insights are you having about yourself? What things do you want to change, and how will you change them?
Part Two
RG, I can think of nothing more important than this. Clearly, what you're doing isn't working. And the Universe (if you will) continues to tell you you're not there yet. You need to look at why?
I imagine your time with Tim is filled to capacity with lessons. What a great opportunity–what a gift–to reacquaint yourself with him and to go on five dates. Now, what did you learn from it? And what can you take that you learned into the next time, and the next time, and the next–until you find THE ONE?
I know from what I've read in your blog that you are a SPECTACULAR human being and man. That’s not in doubt. But, for some reason, that isn't coming across in your dates with men. (And, believe me, the distance and time between you and Tim over the summer you were away have nothing to do with you not being together now. If everything had been right, including what you brought to the table, Tim would be falling all over you. And you’d still be together.) That needs to change, and this has to be important enough to you not to keep banging your head against the wall every time it fails, but to find out why how someone as wonderful as you isn’t coming across that way.
Okay, I’ve said far too much. And I’ll be surprised if you ever want to hear from me again. But, Dude, c’mon. Something isn’t working, something about you. Find out what it is and fix it. How important is it really to find a man?
As a starting point, if you haven’t read Alan Downs’s “The Velvet Rage” yet, then do it. Get on it. Stop feeling sorry for yourself, and start doing the work. (Harsh words, but I genuinely care. I really do.)
Well, Rick, I know you are coming from a place of care and concern. This is your "Snap out of it" comment. I still have a couple more posts regarding this experience. It's all part of capturing how we fall and then pick ourselves up after dating rejection. My post on Wednesday may reveal some ways I have grown and provide a partial answer to "What now?"
I am reading The Velvet Rage. I relate to much of it--though for me he oversimplifies by always going back to shame. I have notes all over the margins, my responses to the author. I am in different stages regarding different aspects of myself. Some of the stage one validation remains. Not proud of that, but I have been making some progress. There are habits of mind that have existed for forty years. I have outside support that I refer to as My Team. Saying (and writing) some of the things that have swirled in my head for ages has proved cathartic. I am in the midst of a big shift as long as I continue my current journey.
Hi, RG.
I don't know if this was my "snap out of it" comment, because, given how promising your chances with Tim looked, I know it'll realistically take some time to work through what happened. And I didn't realize you have several other posts planned around this subject, some of which address the "what if" question. That's great. I look forward to reading them.
The fact is, I didn't think I'd get a response from you on this one. I was hard on you, and it's not my place to be. On the other hand, I genuinely care, and I can't tell you how much I want you to get what you want so badly yourself. I'd love to see you in love, with someone who truly deserves you. I would be thrilled if that happened.
I'm so glad you're reading "The Velvet Rage." You may not relate to everything in it–I didn't either–but, believe me, there's enough material there to see yourself in a way maybe you haven't before–a way that will help you get what you want. I hope so, anyway.
The last line of your response is both cryptic and exciting. I hope you'll write about it.
Whatever the tone or content of your blog postings I will always read them and respond to them when I can with as much insight as I can provide.
Lest I want to bemoan the existence of men, but I won't. They do make up roughly 50% of the population and they all can't be that bad.
Regardless of any of that and what may or may not have happened, don't stop writing. :)
Hi oskyldig. Thanks for your comment. I shall continue to write. I'd like to think that some of my struggles and ordeals are relatable to others. "You are not alone" is a helpful sentiment even if it doesn't solve anything. I also strive to write about triumphs, whenever they come along.
I am ready for a triumph. Aren't you?!
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