My Choices

So, this is all my fault? I pick the wrong men?

Looking back, I think it's actually a miracle that I've been involved with men at all. You see, when I was about 16-18 I sort of made a vow not to settle down until I was at least 25 years old. I simply thought that before that age would be way too early.

This was a bit strange for someone being from a country where people tend to grow up quickly, start living with someone and even buy a flat and start a family quite early, around twenty or in their early twenties. No matter if they're at university, they just adapt their family life around their studies.

So a lot of my schoolmates and friends were getting all excited about the new home that they were setting up with their boyfriends, working part-time along with school to save up for a new settee. This was when we were 18 and 19. Then they started to get pregnant too and all conversations within the group somehow revolved around pregnancies, babies, baby clothes and baby accessories, the cost of daycare and where to find the best childminders.

It would have been easy just to get sucked in; who wouldn't want to have a nice home with a cute boyfriend and a little baby to make the picture perfect? It would have been so easy just to hook up with some hard working schoolmate and have him take care of me and our unborn children. I would have had security and a future plan to follow.

But instead of finding it tempting, I felt a surge of anxiety whenever I imagined this future for me. And when these girls were talking with glee about the couple-things they had been doing, having the in-laws over for dinner and such, I couldn't help but thinking that they were only playing house, the grown up version. Having recently lost a parent, I was extremely aware of how short life can be and how precious our time is. There's never a chance of going back and taking a different turn if you realise along the way that you'd rather not be where you're at. Becoming a mother at the age of 20 means you'll be a mother for the rest of your life, perhaps for 60 years if you're lucky. You'll be responsible for another person for at least the next 20 years, longer if you keep adding children. Their well-being will affect where you live, how you work, what you do in your spare time, how you spend your holidays, everything!

So I thought to myself, no matter if I fall in love with someone in the next few years, no matter how much in love I will be, I will NOT move in with someone or have children before the age of 25! That way, I thought I could still do and have all the things the other girls did, but do a lot more before that. I could have it all if only I postponed this for a few years.

And so my abstinence from couples' life began; when we graduated, I already had a plane ticket to go abroad, on my own, while many of my friends went home to make dinner for their family.

Unavailability

So, while on ice, I've had a lot of time to think.

I've begun to see a pattern in the men I get involved with, not only those I've blogged about here but ever since I started properly dating. Yes, I've almost only dated men, never been in a proper relationship. Why is this?

I could blame it on the men, and some of them have been real dickheads and not treated me well. But at the end of the day, they're the ones I pick. I don't get easily attracted to men, you can call me picky, but very few men truly raise my interest. And I very seldom have developed a big crush on them, a crush that could have led to something more deep-rooted but didn't get the time to grow because the guys started acting like...yes, dickheads.

Only twice in my lifetime have I been in love; the first one didn't know about it till too late (that's a story for a veeery long blog post one day), the other one acted like a dickhead. For real. He's admitted it to me, as we're now quite good friends. But that window closed and once it's closed, I can't force it open again. He simply killed off any romantic feelings I had for him. Yet I can feel very close to him as a friend, am very fond of him and hope he'll find a good woman soon because he's really trying to find someone. But it can't be me, now I sometimes wonder what on Earth I saw in him a decade ago. It might have worked, but I would have been compromising a lot. In some ways, he doesn't get me at all, and I'd rather be with someone who is at least open to my way of thinking, or else be alone.

Anyways, I think that most of the men I've been involved with in my lifetime have had one thing in common. No, not that they're usually a lot older and grey-haired, which is what my friends keep teasing me about, but that when it comes to it, they are in fact unavailable, emotionally if not physically.

It's not something I know from the start, but something I discover, often painfully, along the way. They simply are not available to me. Why do I keep choosing them?

Walking on Ice

Am I not right in thinking that the idiom "To put something on ice" means a temporary halt?

In any case, I thought that despite Henry putting us on ice, we could still remain in touch. So I kept him as a Facebook friend and even sent him a couple of messages, as a friend, pondering about something rather trivial, as you do with your friends.

No reply. Not even a "Thank you" when I sent him a link to something regarding one of many topics we discussed passionately.

Did this mean he didn't want any contact at all until in two or three months? Would we then simply pick up where we left off?

At first, after eating a bit of chocolate, I hadn't felt too bad about this ice-situation, thinking that 2-3 months would pass quickly because I was indeed very busy, and then we'd finally have the time to get to know each other better. And, he would be even further into his journey of being sober, probably not as preoccupied with AA meetings and that sort of stuff anymore.

But Henry's complete silence made me uncomfortable.

So now I'm tossing and turning, trying to figure out what he actually meant. I should have asked!

The Iceman

That's it, I just don't get it. Any of it.

There was no doubt in my mind after our second meet-up that there was chemistry between me and Henry, and that it was mutual. We sent playful texts to each other and even though I was the impatient one, he kept responding and saying hopefully he'd find the time soon for us to be together. And I'm pretty sure he wasn't talking about having more coffee together.

But again, he was terribly busy, and then there were the AA meetings and his work for those, all the reading and then the weekly CoDA meetings.

I was patient, I thought he was definitely worth the wait. But then I received an alarming message from him; he needed some space because he'd had a health scare and needed more testing, it was something to do with his lungs, and since he's a smoker, I got genuinely concerned for him. Never mind whether anything had or would happen between us, he'd need support if the test results came out bad and since I was involved in volunteer work for young people who have been diagnosed with cancer, I'm very knowledgeable in this field. So I just sent him one more text, telling him I'd like to be kept posted and he shouldn't hesitate to contact me if he needed anything.

About a week later, he texted me a smiley face and said the tests had come out fine, he was OK, nothing to worry about. Thrilled by these wonderful news, I rang him as I wandered around the grocery shop trying to figure out what to have for dinner. He sounded really relieved so I understood how heavy this had been on him, so I suggested we'd meet up soon to celebrate, not his evening, but just soon.

That's when his voice changed and the all too familiar we-need-to-talk-tone popped up in his voice. He said he just didn't think this was a great time for him, it appeared he'd be really busy for the next 2-3 months, at weekends too. "I think it's best if we put this on ice."

Funny enough, I was just standing by the frozen seafood, looking down on packets of fish fingers and fish burgers. I only managed to stutter "Yes, of course, I'm quite busy too so I guess it's just really bad timing," to which he agreed.

So we left it there, with a hint of "Let's wait and see" in the air as we finished the conversation and I quickly decided to go for frozen pizza. And chocolate for dessert.

Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me

Finally, Henry found time to see me again. But he was pressed for time because he had a CoDA meeting to go to so we just met in another coffee shop.

So we sat there and talked about religion and child upbringing and the education system and we agreed on so many things; I love talking to this man! But I was also terribly aware of his strong hands as he sipped his coffee or fiddled with the wrapping from the complimentary piece of chocolate that came with it. I could see he was hairy; he had long, blond arm hair peeking out from under the sleeve and a bit on the back of his hands. And with a couple of buttons unbuttoned at the top of his shirt, I could see a bunch of even longer chest hair swaying to the rhythm of his Adam's apple. And I just luuuv body hair, it drives me crazy.

In fact, Henry turned me on so much that I couldn't sit still there, I just wanted him to reach over the table grab me in his strong, hairy arms, kiss me passionately and use those big hands with long piano fingers to explore my body. But we were in a coffee shop and it was the middle of the day and he was getting late for his meeting. So in the end, all I got was a quick peck on the cheek and a boyish wink accompanied with his beautiful smile, before he rushed off to catch the bus.

I stumbled out of the coffee shop and went to a nearby gift shop run by a friend of mine. She knew nothing about Henry but as soon as I was over the threshold she raised her eyebrows and asked "Are you in LOVE???" I just laughed nervously, said I might at least be falling in love, hard. And since she's initially an actress, I asked her whether she might have heard of Henry, the cameraman? Oh yes, "Henry?" she nodded dreamily, "Oh, I bet he's an amazing lover, there's just something about him."

I couldn't agree more. I bet he's a wonderful kisser and a perfect lover. Definitely one of those who enjoys kissing so much he can spend hours snogging.

Then how come he hasn't tried to kiss me yet? He obviously likes me, he finds me funny and intellectually stimulating. He sends me messages telling me how great it is to be able to talk about these things (the Universe etc.) with me. And I AM cute and attractive and sexy and most men can't keep their hands off me once I give them permission. As well as those I don't give permission.

Discussing this with my friends, they reminded me of the Sex and the City episode where Carrie started dating a recovering alcoholic and it was all too soon so he wound up drinking again. I am aware that Henry is dealing with a lot of stuff at the moment, rediscovering himself and all that. And I do admire him for doing all this hard work to become a better man, not doing things half-heartedly.

I'm just not very patient! I wanna be kissed!!!

My New Boyfriend

How could I become so smitten with some guy I’d only met once?

For the next few days I was in some sort of a daze. All I could think about was how much I wanted to meet Henry again. And by ‘meeting’ him I meant kissing him too. I just knew by instinct he’d be a great kisser, he had this air about him, of being a great lover. Slow, sensual lover who’d whisper in your ear with this deep, soft voice. Mmmm.

However, he was a very busy man, shooting films and commercials on weekends, tutoring at a film school mid-week. And when it wasn’t work related it was AA meetings. Every night, seven nights a week. And on Sundays, he’d go to CoDA meetings in the afternoon as well. He also sometimes had to turn up early to the meetings because he had some sort of a job, arranging the chairs, making coffee and stuff. He was very much into it.

But even though we weren’t seeing much of each other, we talked. A lot. Suddenly I enjoyed talking on the phone for ages, something I’d normally not do. In fact, up until now I thought I suffered from phone-phobia but perhaps I just never had anyone interesting enough to talk to!

I loved hearing Henry’s deep voice over the phone and listen to all his wisdom. He was reading books and contemplating life, death, the universe and such. Thanks to him, I’ve now started reading The Power of Now by Eckhart Tolle. It’s a nice read, although I think I might have made most of those discoveries a decade ago and would have needed Tolle’s advice much more then.

Still getting texts from Eddie, the boy, though. I keep replying politely but last night, I received two texts, one from Eddie and one from Henry, in the same minute.  

After having texted Henry about how impatient I was getting, waiting for our second date, wondering if he in fact wanted to see me again at all, he replied: “There’s only one moment, this one here and now. And if my moment becomes your moment sometime soon, I will relish that. x” Eddie’s text read: “Hey, u goin out tonite girrrl?”

I lied to Eddie, told him I was having a nice evening in, with my new boyfriend. Well, it wasn’t a complete lie. I wanted to spend that Saturday night in, on the couch… texting Henry, who was technically my soon-to-be-boyfriend anyways!

Oh, Henry!

Thankfully, Henry wasn't put off by my weird reply - which I tried to clear up immediately by texting him again, saying it was a private joke AND that I'd been half asleep.

However, he was extremely busy, it seemed, and so was I.

For more than a week we had several incidents where one of us had an opening for a quick cuppa, but the other didn't. We hadn't even started talking on the phone, only texting each other but by now, a few times a day.

I think I was trying not to get my hopes up too high by refraining from hearing his voice, because I already liked him so much without knowing what he looked like or whether there would be any chemistry between us.

But finally, we both had last Sunday afternoon free and so decided to meet at a cafe near my home. I arrived 'fashionably' late, walked to the middle of the floor and looked around, not quite sure I'd recognize Henry. All I knew was that he was tall, slim and blonde - and I saw no one looking like that in the busy cafe. 

Then I heard a deep, baritone voice saying my name, behind me. I turned around and looked into steel grey eyes, sparkling and surrounded by smile wrinkles. Henry had the most wonderful warm smile.

I sat by his table, ordered tea and we started talking. We talked and talked for over two hours, very philosophically, about everything; life, values, education, human behaviour, love.

Henry sounded incredibly wise and contemplating. He'd divorced eight years earlier and been in a four year long relationship since then. He had two teenage daughters and showed me a picture of them on his phone. He had this distinctive, comfortable presence, very warm and serene.

And he was very honest. He told me he was a recovering alcoholic, had joined Alcoholics Anonymous a year ago, when he'd hit the bottom hard, e.g. lost his drivers license for life.

Had he told me that when we were still only messaging each other, I'd have stopped thinking about him there and then. Not that I don't socialize with recovering alcoholics or have anything against them, but I would have been scared of trying to date one, too much risk.

But, after having spent two hours with him, I didn't care. I didn't care either that he's a smoker, a vice I'd otherwise find a total turn-off. Nope, I didn't care at all, I only wanted to get to know him better and be in his presence for as long as I possibly could. When we had to part, after almost three hours, I was saddened.

I walked him to his bus stop and we agreed we definitely wanted to see each other again, then he winked at me and jumped aboard the bus.

I didn't walk home, because my feet couldn't touch the ground. I was floating. What a man!