You’re sober, but you’re acting like you’re drunk, talking fast about random stuff that the someone you’re with, whom you haven’t seen in years, really doesn’t give a crap about.  You barely eat your food, and even though you used Secret Clinical Strength Stress Response deodorant, you’re sweating profusely.  This is how to lose a guy in approximately 194 days – have a first date like this, and then be glad it lasted at all.

I had been in my marriage for 13 years, was with my husband for 17 years total, and spent 2 years going through a divorce, while simultaneously making sure my daughter wouldn’t need a shit ton of therapy because her parents got divorced.  Naturally, dating seemed like the next step in this hellish process.

Meet Mr. Big

Every self proclaimed Carrie Bradshaw needs her own Mr. Big.  My Mr. Big and I had known each other for a long time.  I call him this because like the Sex and the City character, he’s successful, good looking, and has major commitment issues.  Sign me up!

Just what I need after a divorce and subsequent move back home where I’m currently rebuilding my life.  Literally back home; to the house I lived in when I was in high school and the house my mom still lives in.  Sign him up, too!

Thanks to Facebook, I knew Mr. Big and I were at the same event last summer, so of course I messaged him about it.  That train wreck of a date happened two days later {train wreck because of me, not him; he was actually very sweet.}  The texting was constant after that and it felt like we came into each other’s lives at a time when maybe both of us needed it?  I’ll tell myself that anyway.

Our second date happened five days later, and this time I had to medicate myself.  In hindsight, I’m not sure which was the worst option – letting the anxiety ride or using medication?  They don’t call it a chill pill for nothing.  I don’t remember a lot of what happened on that date clearly at all.  At least I ate this time.

On this date, I found out he doesn’t have much game, or he didn’t with me, because he doesn’t need it.  We, all the recently single ladies, come to him.  I came to him because I was seeking comfort in the familiar.  That, and I didn’t have to worry about being dismembered in his basement.

There was some kissing and I discovered going on a date after so long is extremely anxiety ridden, but making out with someone else after being married forever – totally bizarre.  No surprise, I got really freaked out by the whole thing and left.  Quickly.

I never heard from him again.  Just kidding!!!  If only it were that easy.  He was going out of town and I didn’t hear from him right away.  I was talking to a friend saying that I had been ghosted, but she politely asked if I had tried to communicate with him?  No.  OK, she said, so you’re just not communicating right now.

Touché.  I reached out again {do you see a pattern forming here?} and he responded; again.  Would this be considered submarined as opposed to ghosted?  So many new dating terms…

The texting was constant from that point.  We were BFF’s.  By the third date, no medication was required.  Mr. Big made it clear he was not ready for a commitment.  We agreed on the ambiguous term of “dating,” while I made it clear I would not date him if he was dating other women.

We had to be somewhat exclusive, even if we weren’t committed.  The undefinable “in between.”

I would quickly learn this undefinable relationship would leave a lot of room for miscommunication and all around hurtful behavior because we weren’t “exclusive or committed.”  I’m not blaming him, because worse than the behavior is the fact that I let it happen, and I kept coming back for more.

I never fully let my guard down, protecting myself.  But I liked him and I was becoming attached to him, even if I kept telling myself I wasn’t.  The story doesn’t end there, and it’s more about what I’ve learned, or relearned, about myself in this process, as opposed to Mr. Big’s behavior.

And so it was, for approximately 194 days.  I became a pawn in his game, and he a pawn in mine.  Although, I was playing Life, he was playing Sorry, and it all became a game of Clue.  Neither of us knew honestly what the other wanted, because what each of us wanted kept changing.

To be continued…

PS – If you want to read up on modern dating terms, this article explains them pretty well – Move over, ghosting.  Submarining is the hot new way to be a jerk.