I Don't Want to Date Anymore...

So a long time ago (like the junior high or high school era) I decided that if I had to lie or cover up something that I was doing, or planning to do- then it probably wasn't a good idea to do it in the first place. Sounds logical right? Not always. It's surprising how often I've found myself repeating that mantra to myself over the course of my life.

But since I'm rather a goody-goody, I kept up the mantra, and for the most part, it's kept me out of trouble. And consequently, I have relatively few skeletons in my closet.

Now remember how I told you that I signed up for the "other" category on the dating sites? Well, I met one guy, and corresponded with another (well there are a lot more than that, but only two that are really relevant). The one that I corresponded with was going through a divorce and actually seemed normal and ...sweet. It was weird. He was completely unlike the others that I had met on there.

So we agreed to meet. And then I decided that I didn't want to be in that section of the site anymore. I decided that as fun, and sexually liberating as it was, I just didn't want to go there. I didn't want to have something like that in my life that I was not willing to talk freely about. So I cancelled. But he didn't care about simply meeting me for sex. He just wanted to meet me. He was in the dating section of the site too, and said that he would be happy to just get together for a drink.

So I agreed. We were to get together a few weekends ago. But this time it was his turn to cancel.
his wife got the papers and didn't want to go through with it. She wanted to go to counseling. She wanted to try to make things work. So I wished him luck and well, and agreed that I was OK if he occasionally sent me the odd email - assuming of course that I would never hear from him again.

But I did. Less than a week later.

He still wanted to meet me for a drink sometime. He said all the right things. About how sensual I was (in my profile anyhow) and how much he really just wanted to see me face to face. He said there would be no pressure and that he understood completely if I said no.

I considered it. I really do think that he's a decent guy. I mean he didn't have to tell me about his wife right? I think he deserves points for honesty. (Ed. not: I realize as I write this that I sound like a completely naive little girl...perhaps I should have written this all out sooner).

Anyhow, I responded to the invitation with a hesitant negative. I doubted the appropriateness of such a thing. For a variety of reasons. Why would he risk upsetting his wife? How would she feel if she knew? What if I liked him? (oddly, this was the least of my worries - I very much doubt that I have it in me to fall desperately in love after one date- does that really happen in real life??)

He assured me that him and his wife were not exclusive and that he wouldn't do anything that he regretted. Although he did leave the door open for me to find him irresistable, and who was he to turn me down? Again, he assured me that there was no pressure. So I tentatively agreed to meet him this weekend.

But when I found myself describing the situation to K and My Dear Anon, I realized that I was making it sound like I had already closed the door. Because I knew that it wasn't a good idea. And both of them agreed with me that it wasn't something that I should be pursuing.

At that point I began to feel some guilt. My life mantra of not doing anything that I would not want to have widely known was not only ignored - but had taken it one level further. I had begun lying.

At that point I knew that I had to cancel the tentative plans. So although I do still believe that he's probably a good guy a heart, the impropriety of the whole thing had begun to gnaw at me. Not to mention the fact that I had no interest in pursuing any kind of relationship that requires even a minimal level of subterfuge.

Is this the most dramatic story in the world? No. It's most likely not even the most interesting post in your reader. But at least it's a story that tells me that my conscience is still clear. I did not go down a road that potentially could make me "the other woman."

And it also tells me that I am not quite so far down the loneliness road that I am willing to settle for any man that offers a bit of flattery and attention. (Even if a part of me is also relieved that I didn't have to go through the nerve-wracking preparation, both aesthetic and mental, of another blind date).

Seriously. Dating? In your 30's? Sucks.

xo