Men.

That’s about it.

Oh, and terrorism. But this post is not about 9/11. (That post will be coming shortly–I live in New York, and it’s the 10th anniversary, so of course I’ll be posting about it. It may be tomorrow though–I’ll pre-date it so it shows for today–because I’m still kind of processing all the emotions I’ve felt today. And it also happens to be my sister’s birthday, so I need to call her which will likely take up a good chunk of my evening. Kind of a crappy day for a birthday, right?)

Back to men. Maybe some male out there reading this can help me understand. Although it’s doubtful. Many have tried. I think I must just have some sort of mental block.

That said, I can’t say that I was completely surprised that what I’m about to tell you happened. I’ve seen it happen in my friends’ lives often enough. But this particular situation was so weird, I just didn’t expect it.

I’m not sure if I told the blogosphere about this (so if I did, please forgive the repetition–I don’t think I did).

Last July or August (I can’t remember which and I don’t have a record of it because I typically purge emails/text messages/etc post-dating someone), I met a boy through Match.com. He was really fun and very smart (getting his PhD in applied mathematics) and interesting, about 6’1″ and pretty dang attractive. We met for the first time at this delicious Tibetan restaurant in Murray Hill and hit it off and continued to see each other for quite some time.

He was my first New York kiss. And it was a perfect first New York kiss. And the best first kiss I’ve had since moving here. We were walking along the Hudson on a lovely summer evening after having dinner at Pier I. We stopped and sat on one of the benches overlooking the river and the lights of New Jersey. And we talked for a while. And then he kissed me. And it was perfect.

Fast forward about three months (I am not that girl who remembers milestones, in case it wasn’t obvious) and we’re at lunch. He taught at a college not far from my office in TriBeCa…which meant I got to see him frequently during the week. We’d been dating for a while (as mentioned) and he decided we needed to have a sort of DTR.

Let me pause at this moment to explain how it is that I manage to often end up dating guys who want to have a DTR–because it does often happen. And it’s not necessarily that I choose to date weird, insecure guys. It’s that I often date non-Mormon guys (because, for whatever reason, they are the guys who want to date me–if I could just find a nice Mormon guy who wanted to date me…). And because they are not Mormon, it is really hard for me to actually imagine a future with them. (I really do want to marry a Mormon guy.) So, because I can’t imagine a future…I am somewhat aloof. I mean, I have fun and enjoy their company and like them (I’m not using them or anything), I just don’t see it going anywhere. You know the old adage, “He who cares less has the power.” Well, in my case it’s a she and it’s me and so I am the one with all the confidence and security of not being too “into it”…which leads to men who want answers. At least, that’s my take on it.

And back to the story. So, he begins this pseudo-DTR. I say “pseudo” because it wasn’t very direct. Or maybe it was and I’m just clueless (entirely possible…I got hit on last week at Whole Foods and didn’t ever realize what had happened until the next day, when I told someone about it and she kindly informed me that the guy was hitting on me and I, without realizing it, had totally shot him down). Anyway, he asked me how I was feeling about things (aka “us”), if I could see dating him exclusively in the near future, etc. My response was basically that I thought when we were both at a point that we felt like we wanted to be exclusive, it would just happen.

Is it so wrong to think that a relationship can happen without defining it? And he didn’t force me to decide on anything or actually specifically ask me if I wanted to date him exclusively, so…I didn’t offer to do so. Maybe I should have, but I think you all know me well enough to know that passive (or passive aggressive) behavior is not likely to illicit an active response from me.

All in all, the conversation was fine. And then we changed subjects. NBD. We made tentative plans to do something a couple (few?) days later. During the next couple of days, we exchanged a few texts. I tried to solidify plans (I like times for planning purposes). And then…

Radio silence.

I never heard from him again. The end.

Or so I thought.

And then yesterday, while I was lying on the beach, enjoying my oh-so-fabulous life (I really am enjoying it these days), he emailed me. At first I thought maybe he didn’t know who he was emailing (I used an alias email address for online dating, so it doesn’t have my name in it), but then I realized he had replied to one of our old email chains when he emailed me, so he knew it was me.

And do you want to know what it said? Of course you do. Prepare to be totally dumbfounded (or maybe not):

hey,
how are you? what have you been up to?


And that was it. Are you kidding me? A year later and that’s what the PhD emails me? If I were a different person, I might thing he just wanted to get a piece…but I am me, and I know he knows that getting a piece is not going to happen, so it can’t be that. If it was that, I’d get it. I wouldn’t like it, but I’d get it.

Here’s the thing. I really do like this guy and I wasn’t heartbroken when he fell off the face of the earth, just confused. Was it totally rude and selfish? Well, yes but, just the same, I don’t hate him. And he was lots of fun and very interesting. And of course, I would love some sort of explanation. So I emailed him back (about four hours ago):

Wow. I was definitely not expecting to hear from you. I thought you must have died or something. 😉 …


I answered his questions about how I was doing and what I’d been up to and then asked how he was. And I received a response about 10 minutes later:

I’m still around, just chilling. let’s get together for dinner this week.


So, because I don’t think a boy taking me to dinner breaks my resolution, I am sure I will take him up on this. Oh, and because I really want some sort of explanation (and I’m sure you do, as well, right? The things I do for my readers… 🙂 ). And he will be buying me dinner. I mean, that’s only fair, right? I think I’m being pretty gracious about the whole thing.

Maybe, once I get some sort of answer, I’ll understand men a little better, but I doubt it. At least I’ll get a free meal out of it, and that’s always nice.