Tag: romance

Only in the movies

“C’mon, let’s go get the shit kicked out of us by Love.”
Sam from Love Actually

This kid, this character. He’s my hero.

I had never seen Love Actually until recently. I had tired of the standard fare; Scrooged, Christmas Vacation, It’s a Wonderful Life. So, I searched a streaming collection of holiday selections and gave this one a shot. No regrets. It features a great ensemble cast. There are some “awww isn’t that sweet” moments and a great ending. It also includes my favorite type of character, the precocious young lad who believes in laying it all on the table for love. Bonus, he knows the rules of the Rom Com. This is evidenced by his comment, “I have to wait to the end, that’s when you get the girl”.

Now, the benchmark role for such a character is the son in Crazy Stupid Love. A hopeless romantic who never gives up. A believer in grand gestures and a yearning for romance that far exceeds the sensibilities of a young boy. A boy with the patience to actually wait for his one true love and the balls to go after it. Sam captures all that while dealing with the loss of his mother. Despite the sadness and utter turmoil he was enduring, he fell in love. And when he learned that the object of his desire was moving away, he channeled everything into getting the girl.

This post isn’t so much about this kid or his role. It’s about how I’m reminded by him of how I used to be. I never have been capable of the grand gestures portrayed in movies. But I was a devout believer in true love and I would really put myself out there in pursuit of it. I would have, given the chance, tried to get past TSA to stop a girl from getting on a plane. I would drive all night to spend an hour with a woman I loved.
Now, I don’t think I would cross the street for it.

I’ve given up. I choose not to date. I can’t do it to myself anymore. Love and Romance has been reduced to something that is found only in the movies. I can’t reconcile it with real life anymore. On the screen, I see happy endings and bold gestures. But in my mind, and in my gut, I only recall pain, bitterness and disappointment. Relationships now induce feelings of loss and rejection, which inevitably lead to my blaming myself. It’s a vicious cycle I don’t have the stomach for anymore. If for no other reason, I removed myself to protect what little is left of my heart.

Sam’s impulsivity and bravery in Love Actually is something I can relate to it and always enjoy it onscreen. But it’s a foreign concept to me now, putting myself out there. I am capable. I can flirt with the best of them and I am virtually fearless in talking to women. If only I was able to do that when younger. The difference between then and now is that I have no expectation of getting the girl at the end.

It’s a self-preservation thing. Young Sam is ready to let love challenge him. I really admire him for that. It’s a valuable lesson in life and a necessary rite of passage. No matter how bad it is, he’ll get over it.

Me, I’m still reeling from the last beating. Love is now a spectator sport to me.

Service

“When a person can’t find a deep sense of meaning, they distract themselves with pleasure.”  Viktor E. Frankl

As a big proponent of both finding your purpose and acting upon it, I have always loved this quote. While some may realize their calling early on in life, others may take until the twilight of their life. Additionally, not everyone will realize or actualize theirs. I’m a believer in man as an accomplished creature. Man is not created to merely exist, but to accomplish, to create, to build, to leave his mark on the world. We are supposed to leave a legacy, even if it is to just leave the world a better place than you found it. That will likely be the extent of my legacy and that’s ok. I also believe that if you change just one life for the better you have lived a fulfilled life.

With regards to the Frankl quote, I wouldn’t go so far as to say that I’ve distracted myself with the pursuit of pleasure. But I have definitely distracted myself. I haven’t been prioritizing the good things that I want to do. Instead, I have spent too much energy and time on pursuing hobbies and my great Achilles heel. Women.

In the excitement of returning to my original stomping grounds, I was energized by the changes awaiting me. To see my family more, to get more active in my Masonic endeavors, catch up with friends, work part time, and maybe meet a nice woman. I have accomplished all of the above, with the exception of the woman. I spent so much time and kissed a lot of frogs and all I have to show for it is a smaller bank account and a bruised sense of self-esteem. Last weekend, I endured my final indignity at the hands of a woman who badly misrepresented herself in both looks and personality who then rejected me because I wasn’t her type. Despite the fact that we had been talking on the phone for 3 weeks, in which I was repeatedly told that I was her type. I took it the way I took every previous indignity for the last 5 months, I felt as if there was something wrong with me. I went home that night and deleted all of my online dating profiles. At first, I scolded myself for being impulsive. One week later I think it was the right move. By freeing myself from the perhaps exaggerated desire to meet someone my head is clear. I need to assess why I want to be with someone as badly as I do, and the only way to do that is to remove myself from the situation. For whatever reason, I don’t think I’m ready to date. I’m still a bit broken. With that knowledge in hand, I have decided that I want to work on myself. There is no way that I can be happy with somebody until I’m happy with myself. And the only time I’m really happy is when I in some sort of service.

I have a call to service. It’s not a brag, it’s just how I am. I enjoy helping other people. It provides me a fulfillment that little else does. Relationships are a lot of work for me, I give all of myself and I rarely get back what I expend. When I work with others in my various charitable endeavors, I give the same but I receive the greatest sense of accomplishment I can describe. I get back more than I expend. I think I’ll do more of it.

It feels good to rid myself of the distractions and focus on what makes me happy. After all, when it is all over I won’t be, nor do I want to, remembered for whoever I was in a relationship with. I will, however, be remembered (or not) for what I may have contributed to the world.

Cyber Frustration

There was a time when I was very active in dating. Dare I say I was popular with the ladies. I was never a player and didn’t care for one-night stands and hurt feelings. Intimacy has always mattered to me and is a huge part of sexual attraction. Unlike most guys, I was always looking for my soul mate, not a hookup,even as a young man. Monogamy has never been a strained or difficult concept for me. Nor has fidelity, loyalty, sacrifice, and working harder when things are rocky.

I’m rapidly gaining on 60 years old and I’m still looking for my soulmate. I was married for 23 years but she wasn’t my soulmate. I don’t know if there is any way to say this that wouldn’t offend her if she read it, but I married her for all of the wrong reasons. One particularly big one is that I thought no one else would marry me. I didn’t settle, well in a way I did, I just made a safe decision. We have 4 wonderful children together so I can’t say that I regret marrying her, but I do have a lot of regrets. One is spending the last 10 years of our marriage on the sofa, in a relationship devoid of love, intimacy, and even friendship. But the children wanted me there, so that’s on me. I am 6 years divorced now, 4 of which were spent battling illness. When I wasn’t sick I was trying to put the rest of my broken life together.

But I’m past that now and I’m putting myself out there in the dreaded dating scene. I’m here to report that it’s worse for me now than it ever was. I haven’t made any sizable steps forward since I last dated in the early 90’s. At least then, without even delving into the difference in my looks and fitness, I could get away with not having it all together. Being broke, marginally employed, and living with your friend isn’t cute at my age. I know this because of the sheer lack of interest in me. My situation, as expected, is a bit difficult to sell to today’s woman.

I’ve been told that I’m hard on myself. It’s true to an extent. But I’m not commiserating about this, I’m just being realistic. I don’t know what women want but it’s not me. I’ve had dates, and a few short relationships. For some reason they fizzled out and it’s ok. No blame to be assigned, just not the right match. In fact, I don’t have difficulty meeting women. In person, I’m fine. There have been situations recently where I stepped out of my comfort zone and successfully asked someone out. I’m not bad-looking, especially factoring in the myriad medical problems I’ve had, and I can be charming when I let myself. About half the time, my lack of financial and job security is not a problem.

Now, the Lion’s share of my interaction with women is online, and let me tell you, there is nothing on this planet as unfair, superficial, or challenging to navigate as online dating. If you’re honest. And I am, as well as considerate. I create honest profiles, delicately and cleverly alluding to the fact that I am not where most men my age are financially. I’ve been told it’s a bad idea but I want to save someone the time and trouble of getting together only to learn it over Shrimp Cocktail and then ask for the check. You may think I’m exaggerating but I’m not. It is the rare woman that doesn’t want a successful, independent guy. Not to take care of them, but that they don’t have to take care of. I’ve been rejected over it. It’s a real thing and it can be hard on the old self-confidence.

It really all comes down to the “about you”. How do you explain yourself and what you want in life and out of another person in 120 characters or less? How do you approach someone when they list nothing about themselves? Is it superficial to reach out based on their looks if that’s all you have to work with? When you initiate a chat where do you start if you know nothing about them?
If you’re lucky they will list some interests, that is really where the connection is. Particularly when someone shares a passion of yours. For every “I love walks on the beach” (blah blah blah), there is the occasional “Winding roads on my Motorcycle” that tells you that you share something powerful. And that can be a conversation starter.

Which brings me to the worst part of dating sites (besides meeting up and realizing that the person is a liar who used a ten-year-old picture). The unanswered initial conversation and the abrubtly terminated chat. It is an emotional roller coaster to reach out to someone you are interested in and get no response. It happens on both ends, I have received many “likes” and comments from people that for one reason or another didn’t interest me. I hate to think that I may have hurt someone’s feelings and vice versa. The nicest option is to disregard it. That’s what they are doing to me. It’s part of putting yourself out there. It’s not nearly as bad as when you are chatting with someone and they suddenly stop answering. Am I the only person who would be perplexed or feel a bit rejected?It’s a frustrating process and it’s wearing on me.

I’m a really good person with a lot to offer, looking for someone that shares some interests and challenges me a bit. The likelihood of finding that on such a disingenuous platform seems unlikely. I think I may abandon the format altogether and return to my original plan of hoping that love will find me. It’s putting a lot of faith on serendipity and fate but it’s so much less of an emotional roller coaster for my personality.

the added variable part 1

*this post is a continuation of a story. It will stand alone in many ways but for missing context please go back a few…*

It is now January and things are going fairly well with Vinny. With the exception of my pushing dangerous boundaries physically (let’s face it I would have done that with or without Vinny’s direction because I’m dumb like that) I was doing something for him about every week and we were getting along well and I was making a few bucks.

One afternoon we went into town to the restaurant supply place and decided to grab dinner after. We went to his favorite place but it was closed so we settled on a local hangout frequented by vacationers and IPA-guzzling Yuppy types (an outdated word I know but you get the idea). It was crowded and we had a wait. We were standing in the lobby when around the corner came Cat. She gave me a giant hug. She was up for the weekend with a friend and saw me come in through the window. I was taken back, this girl and I have a history. I’ve blogged about her before. Let’s just say that we spent a lot of time together two years before and when I attempted to date her she pulled back, played lots of games and I tired of the drama and removed myself from it. I was hurt but largely blamed myself (like usual) for pushing when she wasn’t ready. After we made small talk, she asked me to come see her in the bar before we left. She went back to her table. Vin looked at me and said, “she likes you.” I gave him a little bit of the back story. We were seated and ordered.

Before we left I popped in, paid the tab for her and her friend and moved towards the door. She asked me if I wanted to hang out with her a bit and I reminded her that I was with someone. I kissed her on the cheek and left. Vinny was in the car waiting. When I got to the car Vinny told me that he could clearly see her and when I left he said she looked sad. Again, he said, “she likes you.” I dismissed it. We weren’t a match and I knew it. But yeah, I did like her. We drove home and I thought about her the entire ride home.
We talked that night. Part of me wanted to resisted but the heart wouldn’t let me. I wish I had ignored the call. Now I wanted her again.

Reflections

It is starting to settle in how different my life is now. In just 13 days my life has gone from “can’t” to “let’s do it”. Restrictions on diet, travel (the extension cord is only so long), and countless other things that I had long dismissed as just not possible are now doable.

The big one is no more dialysis. It has finally settled into my mindset that I am done for dialysis. At least for a while. The goal is 15 years and I’m going to fight like a cornered Wombat to reach that goal. I hated dialysis and that is enough reason to prolong going back to it as long as possible.

When I first started dialysis I was the model patient. I walked in with my characteristic “proud peacock” walk, sat down with a book for 4 hours and then strutted out again (sounds cocky but that’s how people see it so I guess I have to go with it). The treatments didn’t kick my ass as it did some other patients. The older and seasoned (to be fair I was one of the younger patients) patients looked at me with jealousy. On a side note the walk or strut that I have become known for is not new. When I was a Cancer patient back in ’97 I overheard another patient remark “what’s he doing here? He looks like a fine specimen”. And I was, I was going to the gym right after radiation treatments and I was in good shape. But I was 31, at 56 I still have that walk. Anyhoo, I made it a goal that I would never get to the point of deterioration that most patients do. There are a few who always looked good, I’m not saying I’m the only one. But eventually I did anyway and I hated myself for succumbing to it.


First came the sepsis/near death infection episode 2 months in. I almost died, no exaggeration. But I bounced back from that. I cruised for about a year until I hid a bad stretch of infections and diet-related complications. On a Renal diet even healthy foods could be taboo. A tomato, a healthy food contains Potassium. Without a functioning kidney to process it it may as well be rat poison. I see-sawed back and forth between too much and too little Potassium, Phosphorous and Magnesium, just to name a few. Sodium and fluid restrictions, if ignored would mess me up for weeks. I never really got those things under control despite uncharacteristic attention to my diet. It got to the point that I was hospitalized several times and the actual treatments became so uncomfortable that I was sometimes unable to complete the treatment. Imagine having a reaction to Phosphorous in which I was itchy all over, the itch would pop up like a whack-a-mole and it was so bad that I was thrashing in my chair. Imagine being held down and being tickled with 2 1 inch needles in your arm. It was miserable. Towards the end I was everything I detested in that room, I was just like the others. I must be an arrogant fuck to think that it wouldn’t. In short it sucks.
I heard yesterday that one of my friends there chose to stop treatments. He was dead in a week. It happens more than you want to know.

One positive is that I really love my dialysis nurses. I think they do God’s work and I appreciate them. They did more than stick needles in my arm, they   my welfare and genuinely cared about me; first in making a very difficult transition for me easier and then keeping me on course when confronted with challenges. Of course, I can only speak for myself, but nurses have a special place in my heart. I plan on visiting them when I am able and thank them for everything they did to make it to where I am today.

One nurse I am particularly fond of is Jesse. Jesse is one of the youngest nurses at the clinic and I have felt a special chemistry with her since the day I met her. We share a devilish sense of humor which is tampered by the strict codes of conduct in the clinic regarding patient interaction. Still, we manage to have flirty and somewhat sexy conversations in sneaky ways, even the exchange of glances or funny faces. I loved it when she was there, it made the time pass a little better. It’s safe to say that if there wasn’t a clinic policy against dating patients I would have asked her out.

Now I can. And of course, now that I can I’m seeing someone else. No regrets, Lisa is awesome and I’m nuts about her. And there are considerations with Jesse that make me reticent even if I was available. She is much younger than me, almost 15 years younger and she has small children. I’m not sure that I have the patience for young children and I also wouldn’t want them to get close to me and then not be there one day because their mother and I didn’t work out. Jesse and I talked about it. We had discussed covertly a few times about the possibility of dating and it was always “get a transplant and we’ll talk”. So we did. I put it all on the table and as it turns out she doesn’t want a relationship at the moment. She works a lot and spends every available free moment with her girls. As it should be. She’s a great mother and her girls are very sweet. She’s doing a great job as a mom. I don’t know what the future holds but I look forward to hanging out with her as a friend over coffee or lunch. As with everything in life, you never know what’s in store for us but it helps to be ready when opportunities arise.

Just friends

“Let’s just be friends…”. Undoubtedly the most unwelcome words for a guy to ever hear. Nice guys, and I’d like to think I am one, are cursed to hear those ugly words many times in life. I’ve certainly been kissed off more than my share by them. It ultimately feels like rejection, only covered in confectioner’s sugar to sweeten the taste.
Today, I think I would welcome those words.

Why did you have to take my note, after I caught the wedding ring and tried to pull it back? It would have been so much easier if you let me down easy that day. I was ready for it. Going into any situation you must be prepared for any outcome. I was poised for rejection, it’s my usual pose. I wasn’t prepared for you to want to get to know me “as friends”. I wasn’t prepared for you to pry your way through the very small wall of scar tissue that I call my heart and make me want you more. I wasn’t prepared to invest myself emotionally in you, to want to make up for the poor manner in which your husband treats you. You deserve better and it is my nature to want to give better to you. I want to take you away.

But I can’t.

I’m not financially secure. I’m in poor health. I have no place of my own. I am in no way an upgrade for you. You need security in the comforts of life that I cannot provide. If only good intentions were currency.

This will not end well, I just know it. I can let myself enjoy the waltz of the initial flirtation, getting to know you on a deeper level, to lie in bed thinking of those hungry, stolen kisses. But to what end? It’s just not fair to you. You deserve better.

5% of me is shouting down the other 95% of me to do the right thing. The blare of reason is the only thing loud enough to drown the raucous roar of my beating heart.
I want you.
I need you.
But you are not mine to take.

Until something changes on your end…please tell me you want to be “just friends”. I will hate it. I will fight it. But I know that I will learn to live with it. After all, It’s the only way this can end well.

Wait, don’t. I want to savor the moment for a while…

Back in the game

My buddy and fellow blogger Steve of MSich Chronicles paid me the ultimate compliment yesterday when he linked his post to my blog. Just an aside, please check out his blog, he is a great writer and has a very cool story to tell.
I found it amusing because he mentioned my blog with particular reference to a series of posts I have written about yet another failed attempt at finding a meaningful relationship. As it tends to happen, it got me to thinking.

I have been divorced for almost 3 years. For the first two I don’t even think I tried to meet anyone. I was content in being alone as I tried to deal with the most pressing matters of my life: multiple hospitalizations, starting dialysis, battling the Social Security Administration over my disability claim and adapting to life 100 miles from all of my friends and family left me worn down and very cynical. I also think it is safe to say that I didn’t like the way I looked or felt and really believed that nobody would want to be with me. With the additional variable of living in an area where most of the age appropriate single women weigh a metric ton and have a better mustache than I could ever grow, it all adds up to single.

Last year I decided to dip my toe in the dating pool so I created a MATCH profile. As in real life, it was honest and to the point. Sure, I mentioned my sense of humor and my love of movies and blah blah fuckin’ blah but I also touched upon my health issues and my financial situation. By that I mean that I live with my mother. It took me zero time to realize that most, to be fair not all, women were looking for the words “financially secure”. My profile bordered on having actual crickets. Nothing. Zippo. Jack shit. It was abysmal but very telling. I had no regrets however, my attitude was and is that I would rather be honest up front than have a awkward conversation later.
Then I “met” Bella.
A fellow blogger and I developed an amazingly strong bond despite many miles between us. The prospect of her pending divorce and ability to possibly relocate gave me hope and consequently I allowed myself to feel actual feelings for her.
It ended badly. BUT, I don’t regret it for a second. She did me a favor, she awakened feelings in me I hadn’t had in ages. It felt good.

It took me a while to bounce back from that. I let my MATCH profile expire and decided to do some work on myself. I got back to the gym. I started a little part time business detailing cars to boost my bank account. I joined some local organizations to keep busy and be available in the event someone has a sister or cousin they could fix me up with. Then one day while playing poker at a friends house I met her.
She was the best friend of my buddy’s new wife. I was enthralled by her as she walked by and it wasn’t long before we became FB friends and then in real life. We became fast friends and soon we were talking daily. I will admit it now, I read into our blooming friendship. I wanted more. We started to hang out but soon it became evident that I liked her more than she liked me. We talked about the prospect of dating. She wasn’t ready. I don’t think I listen very well because I pursued her anyway. She asked if we could just hang out as friends and see what happens. I tried, I really did. But it didn’t work. She wasn’t ready and I couldn’t operate that way. The sound in my ears of me liking her more than she liked me was deafening. We parted ways. It’s too bad. I miss her. But I have no doubt that it wasn’t going to happen no matter how long I hung on.

So here we are. My romantic woes, as it were, are so notorious that Steve felt compelled to mention it in his blog. And that’s ok. It’s a good thing. And I’m in a better place. My own assessment of my romantic viability has changed for the better. I wasn’t rejected, I simply met women that weren’t right for me. It’s not an indictment on me. One didn’t care that I was broke and both thought I was a nice guy and attractive.
And as usual, I have a trick up my sleeve.
I met someone a few months ago. I did some work for a very nice woman, the first attractive, age appropriate woman I have met since moving up here. She has been quietly reaching out to me through FB and text all along but I did little more than politely respond. I was kind of seeing someone and I don’t like to confuse things. Now that thing is dead, I called her.

We’re going out Thursday.

I’m back baby.

Walls

He knew about her
He knew he would meet her someday
Time…he had

Someday came at last
in a room full of people
he was only watching her

She breezed through the room
a glass of wine in her hand
she glanced in his direction
not at him
but it didn’t matter

Something caught her amusement
her laugh was infectious
her smile went on for light years
who’s the lucky guy that gets to daily see
that smile that renders light unnecessary
to illuminate the room?

He would learn soon enough
when she leaned in to the man next to him
and wrapped her arms around his neck
“he’s a lucky man” he mused
and chased the disappointment out of his head

Days later the friend request came in
his heart fluttered a bit
“Don’t read into it” he said to deaf ears
but he was cautiously encouraged

When the message came in
he allowed himself to be encouraged
he had more questions than answers
but he patiently played along
was she just being friendly
or was it something more?

They became a nightly ritual
exchanging playful messages
through the banter and playful chat
it was going somewhere
she wanted to get to know him
he wanted the same
but needed to take it slow
this one was special

They were talking one night
in a rare moment of bravado
he went for it
“would you like to have dinner tomorrow?”
the silence was deafening
had he gone too far too soon?

He tried to pull it back
she went back and forth
he had pushed it
she declared herself an overthinker
one with walls
he again tried to pull it back
then she said yes
he hoped she wouldn’t change her mind

It had been so long
since he had been out with a woman
fortunately he needed to only wait one day

The night arrived
he was early
he was nervous
she chose the place

He opened doors for her
he listened to her
tried not talk too much about himself
she wanted to get to know him better
but it was he hanging on every word
one word in particular came up
a lot

walls

she said it often

walls
high ones
thick ones
someone had hurt her badly
she wasn’t afraid
fear is easy
she was just determined to see
that it never happened again

“Take it slow” he reminded himself
this one is worth it
he focused on her words
her body language
her amazing smile

She started to relax
maybe it was the wine
still, he stayed with the game plan
don’t push
don’t fish
listen to her

They talked like old friends
about what they wanted
and what they didn’t
she had a story to tell
but she wasn’t ready
walls

The walls were still up

They went for a drink
he was learning more about her
he asked a question he shouldn’t have
the dynamic changed
she pulled back
her face changed
he had pushed too hard
he mistakenly reached for her hand
she resisted

“I’m so sorry” he said
he didn’t know
that he was the first to ever ask her that
he vowed to not push her again
Walls

Soon, they were laughing again

The club was jumping
the music was loud
they got a table in the back
she wanted to dance
he was terrified at the prospect
but he would dance with this one

She got up
motioned for him to follow
he was hesitant
she went without him
he sat with fixed gaze


Even from that distance
she was the most beautiful one in the room
dancing alone
he went to her
He struggled with self-consciousness
but it mattered more to him
that he think of her happiness

The song changed and they sat down
on the same side of the booth
he pulled her close
surprisingly…she let him

Maybe it was the wine
he truly hoped it wasn’t
she put her head on his chest
her hands gently explored his body
She looked at him with sleepy eyes
“I want to go on vacation with you…”

It may have been the wine
but the idea of going away
of seeing this rare beauty
glistening under the sun on a exotic beach
took his breath away
still, he was cautious

He enjoyed the intimacy of the moment
as he stroked her hair
this feeling had eluded him for so long
he had forgotten its haunting effects
her head still on his chest
they talked about so many things
things that were beyond the evening
steps yet to be taken
getting ahead of themselves
but it felt right

walls had come down

at least for now

it has been a day since they said goodnight

he keeps reaching for his phone

to text her, to call her

to see if she is thinking of him

as much as he has of her

they had talked earlier

it didn’t satisfy him

he hopes to chat with her later

to obtain the answer

without simply asking…

Are the walls still up?

Even when he knows the answer

they need to come down on their own

but he can wait

she is definitely worth it

My last shot?

Look no further for the fool. It is me. Shame on this fool. I should have known better.

We met online. At first we followed each others blogs, then we started emailing. I was enamored by her. She was exciting and fun, and lord knows I lacked both. What I didn’t know is that I caught her on a high.

I would soon meet the low.

One day she posted about ending it all. I emailed her right away with my phone number. Not on my watch will a friend do this if I am able to help. She called me. That voice, oh my that voice. She sounded broken, despondent. And so sexy. Her loneliness reached through the phone lines over the many miles and nearly choked me out. Her marriage was in shambles. She felt marginalized, abused and feared that she will be homeless and alone due to a cruel, heartless dick of a husband. I implored her to find the good, to not end it all. After an hour of rambling conversation she said she felt better. She called me a lifesaver.

I was just being kind. That’s what I do. Normally it works out for me.

Daily conversations soon followed by text, email and phone. She was feeling better, she was exciting again and I got caught up in it. It had been so many years since a woman paid any amount of attention to me. It blurred my judgment as much as it stirred my loins. Every fiber of my being told me I was on a steam train plummeting towards destruction but I strapped myself in and hoped to survive the impact.

She said we should be a couple. I saw my exit from the train. I told her long-distance doesn’t work. That I can’t let myself get caught up in that boondoggle.

“What if I was to move there? My marriage is over. I have no ties. A change would be nice.” At that moment I allowed myself to feel for her. It would prove to be a crucial lack in judgment with tremendous implications.

6 months of at least 8 hours of talking a day. I was smitten. She even got me to say the “L”word. It had been so very long since I had said that phrase to anyone other than my children. I allowed myself to get immersed in it. I wrote sappy blogs about what our first meeting would be like, what our lives together would be. It made her happy. And that made me happy.

I fell. Hard. The voices in my head screamed at me to slam the brakes. That it can’t work out. That I would get hurt. But I was feeling things that I hadn’t felt in so long, often feeling them stronger than I can ever remember. It was new, it was exciting, it was a high that I couldn’t explain. One thing I did know is that I was in need of what I was experiencing. I was starved for affection, excitement, romance. She offered all of it.

She stole my heart and I let her keep it.

Then one day she tossed me aside like a cigarette butt out the window of a speeding car. How could I be treated like that? Don’t I deserve better?

I should be over it, but I’m not. To be discarded like a stale pastry is not something I can just “get over”. I don’t miss her…I miss the feelings she gave me.

In a futile attempt at recovering, I signed up for a dating site. The results have been less than spectacular. My honest profile, in the interest of saving the trouble and embarrassment of having the conversation abruptly end when the phrases “I live with my mother” and “I have a chronic illness” are spoken has left me with little to no activit. By trying to avoid it I have apparently scared them all off. No “likes” or conversations started. My page is a ghost town.

I miss how she made me feel. I want to love again. I want to be loved maybe for the first time.

Have I had my last shot at love already?

the words left unsaid

I love my dialysis nurses. I think they do God’s work and I appreciate them. They do more than stick needles in my arm, they monitor my welfare and genuinely care about me and make a very difficult transition for their patients easier. Of course, I can only speak for myself but the nurses have a special place in my heart.

One nurse I am particularly fond of is Jesse. Jesse is one of the youngest nurses at the clinic and I have felt a special chemistry with her since the day I met her. We share a devilish sense of humor which is tampered by her strict codes of conduct in the clinic regarding patient interaction. Still, we manage to have flirty and somewhat sexy conversations in sneaky ways, even the exchange of glances or funny faces. I love it when she’s there, it makes the time pass a little better. It’s safe to say that if there wasn’t a clinic policy against dating patients, we would be a couple. Just one more example of how my life is.

C’est La vie.

I have gotten to know her over the last year and she tells me a bit about her personal life. I know she doesn’t share with many patients, we have a special connection. I know that she has 2 very cute daughters, aged 5 and 3. I know that their father used to live with them and watch the girls while Jesse was at work. I know that he recently moved out and she is single (not that I can do anything with that knowledge). I also know that Jesse hasn’t spoken to her father in years. She has revealed enough for me to know that her relationship with her dad was less than stellar. Let’s call it what it is, she hated him.

Last Tuesday Jesse was in a terrible mood. She was quiet and frequently teared up. She wasn’t speaking to anyone with the exception of the communication necessary to get someone set up on the dialysis machine. It bothered me a bit to not have our usual back and forth but it had nothing to do with me and I figured whatever it is will work out and she will be in a better mood next time. Unfortunately, the next time I saw her she was no better.

I decided to engage her. I remarked to her that she was in a bad mood again. She then came over and said “I’ll tell you, but you’re one of two people I’m telling. I haven’t told anyone else. She paused and said, “My father was killed in an accident last week.”

I was stunned. Of course I had no words to offer. I offered her a hug and half-joked that maybe I can give her some of my strength. She teared up. She wasn’t working that day so she soon left. I had several hours left and most of them were spent thinking of her.

She had a difficult road ahead. She has lost her father. In addition she had the burden of knowing that they had a terrible relationship. On top of it all, I know that she had to be torn by those words. You know those words…the ones unsaid. I’m sure there are regrets. I’m sure there are unresolved issues. I’m sure that she was right in how she felt about him but never had the one thing we all crave in the end. Closure. She has a long road ahead of her and there is nothing that I can do that will help her reach closure. I wish I could in the worst way.

See, she’s not the only one with unresolved issues and things unsaid. I wanted to tell her how I feel about her. That I have been pining for her for a very long time. Hopeful that there is a way around the clinic’s policy against patients fraternizing/dating staff. I wish she knew that I would ask her out in a New York minute if I could. I want to be with her so very badly. And I can’t until I am no longer a patient of the clinic or if she leaves the company. Neither seems viable right now, I need a transplant, it’s the only answer. Until that unlikely event, it’s just not going to happen.

I went to a local fair today and it wasn’t 5 minutes before I ran into her. She met my daughter and my friend Eric. It felt naughty to be talking to her because it was forbidden on so many levels. But we talked for a few minutes and it was really nice. Not to mention that she looked beautiful in the early afternoon sunshine. As we parted ways, I hugged Jesse and bluntly said “We need to find a way around that company policy because I want to be with you.” I amazed myself at how bold that statement was. But I felt better for saying it. They were no longer words unsaid. I said them. It was the truth after all and now it was out there. I think she knows that I’m into her, now it’s confirmed.

When we parted ways and walked away my daughter, who already knew my feelings for Jesse said, with her usual candor, “ You need to marry her. She’s beautiful, she’s awesome and she’s into you.”
“You think so?”
“Oh yeah.”
“Well, a lot has to happen before that happens.” I said. “But I think she is worth waiting for.”