Disclaimer: The owner of this blog has every right to edit this post, take it down, or leave it up, depending on how ok she is with feeling vulnerable. If you’re still reading this, it’s because as raw and exposing and personal as this stuff is, I know it’s helping some other people relate who are also dating and looking for “the one.” So I’m wincing, but I’m keeping it up. And if that’s not the case for you, I hope it’s at least somewhat entertaining for you to read. My escapades are very real. I’m very human. And I’m very aware that is kinda crazy to share. But, it’s here for your reading pleasure. I also know the guy I end up with will hopefully think this blog is just an extension of how real and authentic I am, and appreciate my writings here. As always, all names, including my own, are removed to protect our privacy.
Over 66% of you who voted in my last blog’s poll I created told me “Yes, see the Doc again.” Half of you told me to be careful, if I did. (Again, if you need catching up about who “The Doc” is, see this blog.)
I decided to see him.
After the very clear conversation a few weeks ago with this amazing man, I knew exactly where he stood. He “really enjoys our time together, genuinely cares for me, yet isn’t looking for a serious relationship, blah blah blah….”
That sucked. I told him I couldn’t see him again, then. So, it was acknowledged that we were both on different pages and it was my own risk to take if I wanted to go back on my word and see him again. And of course, a week later, he asks to see me.
So, yeah, that happened. Last night. (Note: You can start judging me now.)
I was just the slightest bit curious of how this conversation of “why do you want to see me?” would go in person (turns out, BAD, very bad….keep reading), so I obliged him in making plans to go to the place where we had our first date. Of course, it’s the most romantic place I’ve been in California so far. A swanky resort on the cliffs off the ocean where the first time I went there I mentally said to myself, “Yeah, this would be a good place to get married to someone. It’s stunningly beautiful.”
I first arrived at his house. We sat and chatted, then hopped in his car to head to the resort. He lives conveniently close to this slice of paradise. Of course.
We valet, a nice gentleman takes my hand as I get out of the car, and we head in to the main building. The first thing you see is a grand entrance with a view of the Pacific Ocean right in front of you. It’s about 6pm and the sun is starting to set. We walk onto the beautiful terrace filled with couches, seating areas and fire pits.
Wouldn’t ya know it it – there’s a freaking wedding happening. We look below us and watch gorgeous tan people in tuxedos and elegant evening gowns enjoying the cocktail hour. We spot the bride and groom taking pictures against the sunset and ocean in the distance.
I bite my tongue as the reminder of how perfect a place this would be to get married almost slips out of my mouth. Smh. Duh! Not in front of The Doc! Besides, that’s the last thing men want to hear. Omg…please tell me I am NOT turning into one of THOSE women!
(Btw, if someone could tell me how I went from cool, confident, act-like-a-dude, no-strings-attached heartbreaker chick to imagining great wedding venues without even having a bf yet, that’d be awesome, thanks. Cuz I have no idea who flipped the freakin’ script.)
Anyways, a lovely waitress comes up to us and offers to get us some drinks.
One of the many things I love about The Doc is that he’s super generous. When you look up the term “wine & dine,” you see his face next to the definition. I’m so spoiled every single time we’ve been together and he loves fine dining and luxurious experiences. I offer to pay for things all the time, yet he NEVER lets me. He always smiles at me and just shakes his head “no” as he reaches for the bill. This, clearly, is every woman’s dream in Los Angeles, because it costs money to just breathe out here, and I love how he takes care of me in this way even though I could afford to chip in, pay for my part or even the both of us on occasion. I’ve even offered to take him out places, but he just kind of brushes it off.
So he asks the waitress if they have his unique and favorite top-shelf gin. They do and we both order different fancy, overpriced martinis. We people watch over the wedding people below and laugh and chat about our observations.
The waitress comes back to leave the bill and I about die when he takes out his wallet. The man has an American Express Corporate credit card right next to his annual pass to Disneyland card (for his 3 1/2 year old daughter). I see his full name on the AmEx – “Dr. So and So” and I about lose my mind. He’s such a cool and unassuming guy and his accomplishments so far in life always impress me (he was in college at 16 years old, PhD at 24), so to see the tangibles that make up who this man is, really gets me going. I giggle and point out the combination of these two things in his wallet to him. He sees my expression of confused/impressed/turned on all at once and he chuckles back – “Well, I’m also the guy who is reading ‘The Art of War’ and “The 5 Love Languages.” Yes, yes, that’s who you are. And I love it. Mr. Amazing Unavailable who reads books about relationships yet doesn’t want to be in one. Gee, that’s not confusing at all. (insert sarcastic tone here)
We make our way over to a comfy couch, complete with a fire pit. We’re chatting away and nothing has been brought up yet about what the hell I’m doing there with him, after I clearly told him I couldn’t see him again.
We’re sitting close to each other and he proceeds to point out how great I look in my dress, how amazing my eyes are….how “one could say this is a very romantic moment….the fire, the scenery, the sunset, the drinks, the live jazz music coming from inside the lounge next to us…” Um, yeah. Ya THINK?! We’re sitting closer now and I start to drop down my walls I had put up going into this evening. I mean, what guy who’s not interested in anything serious takes the time to point out how ROMANTIC a moment like this is???
We finish our drinks and then head towards one of the fabulous fine dining establishments at the resort. It’s a new one we haven’t tried before. We’re seated and handed our menus. We order more fancy martinis and then a FABULOUS meal, to which we both enjoyed immensely.
Dinner conversation is great, as always. The man continues to impress me by talking to me about amortization tables, PMI (private mortgage insurance), the real estate market, etc. He’s offering me advice and giving me feedback on my future goals.
After he shares some other amazing story or accomplishment, I stop him and remind him of how unique and special he is. He humbly replies (as always) that he’s “just a regular dude.” Yeah, ok. No. I make him stop eating, look at me and really hear me say how amazing he is. I’ve met some amazing men in my life. He’s definitely in that top 5%, and I wanted him to know. Regardless of what ever ends up happening with us, I think it’s important to celebrate people who typically don’t celebrate themselves.
We finish dinner. As we’re leaving, he walks up to the General Manager who was saying goodbye to dinner guests as we walked out. The GM looks nervous. The Doc kindly reports how amazing our server was (he was really, really great) and a smile breaks out on the guy’s face. He thanks us for coming and hopes to see us again soon. I love how great a communicator The Doc is. Sucha treat.
We feel like sticking around the resort a bit more, so we walk over to another bar/lounge area and order coffees at the bar. We chat even more but then I’m ready to leave and head back. Still no conversation about “us” and I don’t know how to bring it up without ruining the mood. I’m enjoying his company.
We get back to his house. He makes us very good, very strong top shelf apple martinis and we watch a comedian’s show on Netflix. We’re dying laughing. We have very similar styles of humor and I love laughing with this man.
Each time he refills my glass, we toast. The first toast, he says, is to “great company…and a beautiful woman.” Skip to the third toast and instead of saying anything, he pauses, looks at me and then goes in for the kiss. After almost 5 hours of being in each other’s company, it was overdue but right on time.
(By the way, not sure if you’ve ever launched into a make out session while you both hold martini glasses raised in your hands, but that was the longest “toast” ever. And so nice.)
Our chemistry is undeniable and it felt all too familiar, as the last 4 months of seeing each other bubbles to the top.
We continue to watch the show.
It ends and now it’s super late. Time has flown. I don’t want to take any chances on driving the 45 mins it’d take me to get home, and he insists I stay there. He’s stayed at my place before, but I’ve never stayed with him.
I knew where this was heading and soon I found myself in quite an unusual situation. As much as I was enjoying everything, all of a sudden it hit me like a ton of bricks.
I started to cry.
He stopped kissing me, confused, naturally, and I pushed him away. Then, huge crocodile tears and then the gasps of air and shoulder shrugs of sobbing followed.
I felt sadness, guilt. We hadn’t “talked” about anything that evening, yet I knew nothing was different from his perspective. And it all came gushing out like a rainstorm in the desert that never sees a storm. I couldn’t stop.
Now, to fill you in on me – I haven’t cried about anything, much less a man, in a LONG, long time. I keep shit together. And here I am freaking the heck out. I could have bet a million dollars that THIS was never going to happen. But here I am, bawling like a baby, and have NO idea how to stop it.
He’s asking me what’s wrong, to calm down, that it’s ok. But I seriously can’t stop. And I feel like a total moron, so embarrassed that this is happening. That makes me cry even more. My dignity is totally shot here.
He’s now holding me and I manage to get out the words “I’m so sorry…I should just go….” I really wanted to leave but he and I both knew that wouldn’t be smart. So I tell him I’ll go sleep on the couch downstairs then. He’s not hearing that and says to at least sleep in his guest room then. I needed space. I had to get away from him. I stumble down the hall into the guest room, still crying.
I try to keep it together and do the whole “silent cry” thing, but it just hurts too bad and he must have still heard me, so he comes in and lays down next to me. He asks me to calm down, comforts me, etc and I eventually stop crying. OMG I am so embarrassed.
Well, no time like the present, so he asks what’s wrong, what happened and I choke through some remaining tears as I tell him that I was simply frustrated. Frustrated and shocked, because this was SO not typical behavior of mine. Again, I never cry and/or get attached to guys, but THIS ONE? Yeah, clearly he got in.
I tell him how amazing he is, how it’s so incredible to share what we have and yet be on completely different pages. How there are other men who want to pursue something serious, yet here I am with him, Mr. Amazing Unavailable.
He understands and still, true to his character, doesn’t budge on where he stands. He says he’s just “not the relationship type of guy” and I assure him that someday a very lucky woman will make him think differently.
I actually laugh at how silly, ironic and just STUPID this situation is. I mutter the famous phrase “taste of my own medicine” and just shake my head at how interesting it feels to have the tables turned on me this time.
It actually helps to be there talking it out with him, and even though I’m kinda an emotional mess, I get where things are logically. It is what it is.
He’s such a cuddle bug and is holding me the whole time, sharing that he obviously cares about me because here he is, outside his comfort zone, laying next to me to talk. That means a lot to me and it speaks volumes as to how special we are to each other.
But not special enough.
And that’s what I needed to know for SURE, for sure.
Of course, he wants to see me again. Anytime. We do enjoy each other’s company and have developed a sincere friendship along the way, so now I have to decide what, if ever, needs to happen there. But that’s too much to think about right now.
In the AM we’re still on good terms. He calls me “Baby” like he’s always done, so many times and I finally said, “I’m not your baby! Stop calling me that! lol” He answered, “I want to call you that. It comes from a very sincere place.”
I just shake my head and smile.
I go to my car and bring back in his Bose headphones I never mailed back and leave them on the breakfast bar.
Oh, Mr. Amazing Unavailable. It feels strange to say this, but, thank you. You’re a complicated, beautiful story.