Dating, part 8: ...then return

If M was the catalyst for my retreat from dating - and I really didn’t date at all for over a year, clinging to my sense of self at first, then just settling in - then Violet was the catalyst for my return.

We didn’t talk at all over that next 20 months. It strikes me as strange now, but then I realize that I tended to seek her out – wanted advice, someone to listen. And I knew she’d ask about dating, and I didn’t want to talk about it, so we weren’t in contact at all.

In March of 2004, she sent a short note and there was a subsequent flurry of emails.

Violet: Haven’t heard from you. What’s up? Have news on new boys?
Me: Nope. I quit, remember?
Violet: No, you took a break. The break isn’t over?
Me: No. It’s exhausting! Plus, I have a lot going on right now. The membership expires in a few months anyway, so I’m just letting it go. I'm not participating in the dating service again.
Violet: When do you have time to meet for lunch?

I sighed, but I do enjoy the panang curry, so we decided to meet the next day at the tiny Thai place that would become the home to all my post-date analyses.

“What’s going on, kiddo? Why aren’t you back at it?” She asked after we hugged, sat and ordered.

“I’m tired, I guess.” I replied with a shrug.

“It’s been almost 2 years since you dated. You’re not tired. Try again.”

“All right. I’m scared. I don’t want to be hurt, or hurt someone. It’s too hard.”

“Better. But not enough. Do you really not want to meet someone?”

“I don’t know anymore, honestly. The thought of the work involved – the stress, the worry, the preparation, the self-doubt – I just don’t want it that badly.”

“Well, I’m out there again. I thought of you, and how this was brave – going out there, meeting strangers, hoping for someone to connect with you. It inspired me, though it took some time for me to start doing anything about it. But now I’m out there, meeting men, taking first dates, going through all that work you just mentioned.

“And it’s hard. Because I’m so comfortable being alone – my routine, my choices, my work – that making room for anyone is miserable. Once you get in your rut, you start to like it – look around and see all the cool things you have in your life. So you’re happy – not feeling desperate at all.”

“Exactly!” I said. “I don’t need anyone right now.”

“I see that. And that’s great – the perfect time to get back out there and try dating again, actually. Because if you stay in that mindset – I don’t want anyone because I’m happy right now - those chances just slip by.”

So I thought, poked at the pile of curry-soaked rice, and looked up at her again.

“Do you really think I have to meet my future husband through a dating service, Violet?” I asked quietly. “That my story ends up that way? That I made a plan and worked for it, and took someone because it was time to get married? I want a better story. Something dramatic and romantic and special.”

She twisted her mouth, sighed and drank some tea. “Katie, you can’t know where love or friendship or things like that are coming from. Putting conditions on them just makes it harder. You’re great, and for some reason, decided this was a reasonable path for you. So if you’re judging the men who do the same thing, that’s not very fair.”

I nodded in agreement and thought again of my story. If I were to find someone, shouldn’t it be somehow better than this? This was part of a plan. All plotted out and neatly executed. Violet saw my hesitation, cocked her head and considered me more carefully.

“I know it’s hard. So you don’t call this dating or looking for the right man or whatever scares you about it. You call it practice. Getting good at dating, learning about what you like and what you don’t, dealing with men and being careful and honorable. So that when the right man comes along, and it’s time for your story to start, you won’t play the role badly.

“Katie,” she continued, with a frustrated shake of her head, “you’re going to get stuck! Too accustomed to being alone. Like me. It shouldn’t be hard for you – you’re young and you have so much to look forward to. Don’t let this experience represent fear and failure! Let it be this great practice that makes you feel strong and knowledgeable and good!”

I promised to think about it, and we parted with another hug. I thanked her, because her intentions were very good. Again, the people who appear in my life tend to be precisely what I need at the time. So I'm considerably blessed in that regard.

I returned home that night, and thought about all that had changed since I stopped dating before. I’d moved away from campus, easing the constant stream of stress that emanated from being located too closely to work and school. I had a dog, a sweet little friend who I loved completely from the first second I saw her online at Petfinder. I’d traveled – already going places I’d never expected. I was stronger – grad school, if nothing else, makes you stronger and more confident through the sheer struggle of dealing with members of academia. I often see it as a sink or swim situation – you either get strong enough or you leave.

Did I know enough about dating? Was I ready to find the right man? Did I need more practice? Could I be fair – kind and forgiving and attentive – to the men who I’d meet if I started this again? Was it worth the work?

I couldn’t fall asleep that night, pulling Chienne up from where she curled at the foot of the bed to cuddle.

I patted her for awhile, then nudged her aside, and went to the living room where I had my desk. Sitting, I composed a brief letter. Finding an envelope in the open space beside my printer, I addressed it, got a stamp, and put Chienne on her leash. We walked to the mailbox sometime before dawn, and tucked my letter inside.

Returning to the apartment, I turned on the television and curled up on the couch. Chienne tucked herself behind my knees. I wouldn’t sleep for a long time that night – stress, worry, a bit of hope.

I was back in.