Future Present

Another Friday night after a long week of work plus battling the end of a cold and the end of my period. My sleep this week was interrupted with texts from the Brit wanting me to come over. I see this role being presented to me (though on pause till my libido is avail again) and I can't help but being attracted to it. Me- calling the shots of when and where and what. Being able to wear my sexy lingerie again and being seduced or be the seducer. I know it won't be the same. The touch and feel from him won't have that connection that I learned and took comfort in, a million years ago.

A year ago in February- does it feel like a year ago to you guys? It's weird to look back on. I see that old part of myself that got broken off by him, and the new part that took me inches and long moments to grow on my own. It grew back, stronger for sure- but definitely in a different shape then before. I'm not rushing the healing process and I know I'm still in it. My ego, my heart, my trust, my confidence was all broken down because of him. In one twenty minute one-sided conversation at the Starbucks next to my apartment, he ruined the past year and my favorite Starbucks in that one sitting.

I go to a Borders now and sometimes a place in the Village. I don't think about that Starbucks. I've had better coffee since then.

Tonight my flannels were on by 8:30 and I had my knitting and tea to comfort me as I switched through my Tivo and filled up on cold medicine. I got a text from my friend M who needed outfit advice as she prepped for a dinner. She sent me a pic of what she was wearing- all black with great jewelry. She didn't need any advice, she looked great and ready for the night. An hour later I get a text from her saying she's outside my apartment.

I invite her up and am very confused at the short dinner. She clarifies that she hasn't gone yet and her 10PM reservations were now 10:20PM cause her date was running late. He's a lawyer, she explains, 34 and set up through a friend. This was their second date.

She was hoping that he was telling the truth- that the dinner was delayed because he got out of work late, and not that he had made a date prior to theirs. She had just met him so trust was still hovering over questionable. She left fifteen minutes later and made her way to the restaurant where he was delayed further. I'm hoping he made it up to her.

Is this how dating is now for girls? You get ready early and at your best, hoping the guy is telling the truth from the start but always seeing where the lies can fit in? You wait for hours, hoping that the wait is worth it just for one good meal, to see some glimmer of the good guy in a stranger?

My biggest fear is that if and when I start to put out that energy and hope again, that it won't be worth it for a long time.