The man I almost married

Broadway and I have been casually emailing back and forth for the past month, sending each other links to interesting articles and pictures of cute animals.

Today, there was a huge Comcastic blackout of the internet in/around Boston, and he helped me to circumvent it and then to fix my router following it. After everything was working again, I sent a self-deprecating email about how the internet is too complicated for me. He replied with a harsh denouncement of his misspent youth messing around with computers, followed by:

"That's how cool I was as a kid. The man you almost married. Near miss."

Tears gushed out on the spot when I read that, and I cried for Broadway all over again. I cried that I couldn't be the one to make him happy. I cried for how solemnly he leads his life. I cried for how much weight he always has on his shoulders, mostly self-imposed and unnecessary. I cried for not knowing when he'll find his actual special someone who will be with him for the rest of his life. I cried for me not being able to make the sacrifice and just be happy with him. I cried for how much I still care and love him, and I cried for how much that love and care isn't the kind that makes me want to commit my whole life to him.

In the same way, I cry for HB too, but I kinda have to try a little to get the tears going. In the end, I know that HB will be okay. He'll do just fine for himself. He's got that right balance of slight cynicism with naive arrogance to get himself through, or at least to convince himself he's doing the best that he possibly can, and what he can ain't all that bad. He goes through life with no weight on his shoulders.

He loves me, but he'll do just fine without me.

Thanksgiving

I posted a Craigslist ad on Monday asking for a fancy dinner date on Thanksgiving. For the most part, the pretty ones wrote boring emails, and the funny ones weren't pretty. By midday Wednesday, I had it narrowed down to three guys ... but then I had a total change of heart for the cheesy.

A couple had invited me for Thanksgiving at their place, but I told them I was considering a CL date, which I think hurt them a little bit. On Wednesday, I suddenly got all emotional about the silly holiday and realized that I didn't want to waste it on a random, potentially excruciating, date. I'd rather spend it close to friends, and my couple friend were happy and told me they were really glad with my decision :)

As for the CL men, I promptly asked each of them if we could reschedule for drinks sometime over this coming weekend. All three agreed, so this might be a fun-filled weekend after all, or at the very least, a story-filled weekend.

In other news, Special Friend made me pretty mad yesterday. A big group of us partied at his house last night, but he flirted with this other girl the whole time. I realize that there's nothing concrete between us and that he has every right to flirt with other people (I mean, hell, I'm going on dates myself), but doing it in my presence is a pretty dickish move.

I kept my own flirting under control, even with another guy at the party who was obviously trying to flirt with me. I'd always move away or pull someone else into the conversation. Special Friend needs to have the same level of respect for me and not talk with another girl for two hours off in a corner by themselves.

At one point, he and his roommate decided to go to 7-11 for some snack refills. He loudly asked the whole room, while glancing at me, "Does anyone want to come with us to 7-11?"

I don't play this game. If he wants me to go with him to 7-11, he needs to ask me directly. I'm not going to bite on his passive aggressive question, posed to the whole room, hoping that I would somehow rise to the challenge.

Of course, the girl whom he'd been flirting with pipes up and says that she wants to go to 7-11. That made me want to go even less. I don't play his passive aggressive question-asking game, and I definitely don't play the fighting-for-territory game. If she wants to throw herself at him, be my guest. I'm not tagging along to fight her for my share of his attention.

I secretly smirked at the disappointed and slightly awkward look on his face when she volunteered to go. I grabbed another beer and sat back down on the couch, smug.

He asked the room again, "Does anyone else want to come?" I went on drinking and talking and ignored his question.

Eventually he came over to me and asked, "Hey, do you want to come to 7-11?" I played hard to get and claimed that it was cold outside, and I couldn't find my jacket. His SISTER, overhearing me say this, piped up, "Oh, you can borrow my jacket!"

Special Friend saw the bone that his sister threw him, snatched the jacket, threw it on me and out the door we went. It was indeed cold, so he grabbed my hand with his and put both our hands in his jacket pocket as we walked. This would normally be completely adorable, but there, 5 steps in front of us, was the girl he'd been flirting with the whole night.

I guess I won in the end - he picked me over this random girl - and I won without ever fighting. Hell, his SISTER picked me over this other girl. But the win didn't feel glorious. I'm still mad that he would overtly flirt with other women in my presence. Either he's completely oblivious to my feelings, or he's trying to play games and get me jealous.

Both are not cool, and I'm not playing.

In which there is a whirlwind of men

I went crazy this week, and I might now be done (full disclosure post ahead). I had two nights of heavy drinking, hooked up with two different men, regretted one, and suffered two days of hangovers.

Thursday night started with karaoke with a group of friends, including Special Friend, and ended with Special Friend naked in my bed. We didn't hit the homer but was well past third base. I now think back on the experience with fond memories, but we were both very stoned at the time, fumbled around a lot, and were both very paranoid that the other person was not comfortable. The next day, Friday, I asked if we could talk. He readily agreed, and we had a nice adult conversation about the whole thing. We laughed and agreed that we were actually both very comfortable with how things went, and that the paranoia came purely from being stoned.

He is however, worried about me rebounding, but since neither one of us have concrete expectations, we decided to just see how things go.

Friday night started with one of my labmates inviting me to go clubbing with him and a couple of buddies. Excited, I got all dolled up and met up with everyone downtown. Next thing I knew, Labmate and I were pounding drinks, grinding on the dance floor, rushing out the club to grab a cab ... and then I don't remember anything until I discovered myself naked in his bed with my clothes strung all over his floor. Still drunk, we had sex, which honestly was pretty disgusting. He wanted me to spend the night, but I had sobered up significantly by this point and preferred to wake up in my own bed. He insisted on walking me home, which was pretty sweet in retrospect. In front of my place, I realized that I had no inkling of attraction to him and couldn't even bring myself to kiss him good night.

Saturday night, I went on an actual date for an LTR (long-term relationship). I knew within 5 minutes of sitting down to dinner that I had no interest in the guy and was highly annoyed by his personality ... and he had theater tickets for after dinner so I was in for at least 3 more hours. He ordered a drink, but I stuck to my water, explaining that he caught me on a bad day as I was still nursing a hangover. He laughingly joked that the best way to cure a hangover was to drink more, and I laughed along. I realized he was serious when he called the server over to order me a Bud Light. A bit annoyed, but wanting to stay polite, I intercepted and ordered myself a hefeweisen.

When asked me what I planned to eat, I replied "fish and chips" - my favorite dish at the pub that we went to. He insisted that I simply could not get the fish and chips, and that I should save the fish and chips for when we go see a movie. I stared at him blankly, honestly a bit shocked, but trying to decide if this was also a joke (he giggled the whole time). He then very condescendingly said (though I'm sure he saw it as being a generous gentlemen) that I needn't worry about the *cost* of my dish since this dinner was on him, implying that I had ordered fish and chips because it was cheap (it wasn't, it was $14, kind of a ripoff actually for fish & chips at a pub).

Realizing this wasn't a joke, I remained cordial but firm, saying that I wasn't trying to be polite - I really do very much love the fish and chips at this restaurant. He wouldn't have any of it and proceeded to argue that if I insisted on ordering the fish and chips, he would have to take matters into his own hands and pick something for me. He then ordered me a meat-heavy entree consisting of every kind of meat imaginable grilled, the last thing that I wanted. I ate very little of my plate (too heavy, exactly what my hungover head did NOT need) and silently fumed through the entire dinner, lamenting the fact that I would have really liked to have been eating fish & chips instead.

I eventually finagled my way out of the second half of the play (he had lost interest by then as well) and met up with a friend working at a coffee shop to gripe. Special Friend was working late but finishing around this time too, so I made plans to leave the coffee shop and head his way, maybe grab a beer together. By the time we met up around 11:30, we both preferred something even more chill and just took a brisk walk around the neighborhood. Dropping me off at my place, he gave me a delicious good-night kiss. There is potential indeed in this Special Friend.

I also had a couple of other "dates" with guys who responded to a CL post I made asking for no-strings-attached (NSA) fun ranging from making out to whatever we felt comfortable with. I had lunch with one of the guys, who was a decently nice and normal person but completely not my type. I made coffee plans with another, but was honestly rather exhausted by men at this point, so I canceled it.

I suppose this was the whirlwind of singledom that I wanted, expected, and felt constrained from by HB, Broadway, and whatever other serious relationship. But, it's honestly not that fun. I really regret having sex with my labmate, beyond just the fact that he is my labmate and we have to see each other in lab every day. (To his credit, he came by to say hi to me today and really tried hard to made it as normal as it could be considering.)

There was no connection or attraction to Labmate (at least not on my end, he claimed that he'd always been attracted to me from the day he joined our lab 4 years ago). I love making out with guys, and I didn't even want to kiss him. Sex for the sake of sex was not the fun and liberating experience that I fantasized it being. It wasn't fun at all, and I regretted it the next day.

My conclusion is that meaningless hookups just don't cut it for me. The thought of having a stranger in my bed is extremely riveting and exciting, but actually having a stranger in my bed is disgusting.

That's a good realization to have, that sometimes fantasies are just fantasies. Trying to bring fantasies alive doesn't always work because reality gets in the way, and my reality is that I don't really want to sleep with a lot of people. So going forward, I'm not sure what I'll do. Maybe I'll still try CL every now and then (low commitment, easy), but posts for casual drinks and flirting with no path/expectations for more, emotionally or physically.

The night with Labmate was also the first time I've ever blacked out from drinking, not able to remember whole chunks of the night. I don't want that to happen again. I enjoy a bit to drink, and it is fun, but I need to be more aware and have more self-control about knowing when to stop. I highly doubt I would have gone home with Labmate if I were cognizant of my surroundings.

As for HB and Broadway, I'm starting to get the clarity that I've been seeking, but I'll save that for another post.

in which he loves me

HB called me this afternoon, having come home completely drunk after a night of whiskey with his boys who want to say goodbye in Beijing.

We said "i love you" back in July when we first started officially dating, but then I didn't feel it anymore so I stopped. It's been a long time since either one of us has said the l-word.

In his drunken state, HB told me "I fucking love you." We were talking about very unrelated things.

And then some point later in the conversation, he said, "Never fucking doubt how much I love you. Never."

I still think we have a chance together, but not right now. Right now, I need to go out and be unconstrained in this world, no matter how much he loves me. I kinda do hope that whenever I manage to figure my stuff out, HB will still be there for me.