First Date

Months ago I started dating again.  Let’s just say it has been an adventure…

My first post-separation date was with some guy from JDate.  My closest friend told me I’d be entertained by the site, which should have been a flag about the whole process.  Online dating is supposed to be a better method than randomly going to bars and finding strange men, but a monthly fee doesn’t really mean people are less strange.

In truth, it wasn’t the worst date.  Nothing actually inappropriate happened even though he kept wanting to touch me – hold my hand, put an arm around my shoulder, etc.  And yet, he still just acted like an insecure child.  He seemed so practiced at trying to impress, though he never actually came across as impressive.  So happily shocked that I was different than the usual girls he dates, yet only prepared to interact with them.  Plus, he was just so Jewish.  The giant Hebrew tattoo, the large Star of David necklace, the persistent questioning to clarify my religion were all kind of annoying.

Why is it so hard to find a real man?  Someone who is strong, assertive, decisive, with an appreciation of a woman’s need for a gentle touch.  Don’t get me wrong, I’m no wilting flower, but rape’s not really my thing.

So here I wait, hoping each IM or secret admirer match will turn into something.  It’s another weekend with no plans.  Another night my body desperately craves the touch of someone worthwhile.  I miss that connection, and I worry that I’m forgetting what it feels like to want a person and not just an idea.  Losing the muscle memory to know how to act on that feeling when it does come.

But I still don’t have any idea what I’m doing.  I lucked into love on a blind date after hooking up with a handful of guys.  Everything with him seemed so easy until it went terribly wrong.  It’s all new to me again now.

Funny how after taking so long to come to terms with all the negatives of the relationship that I’m only just honestly mourning the good parts.  The sensation of being pulled back to him for our first kiss, of cozying into his nook, of trusting each other’s hands and motives.  I took it for granted when we had it, but it’s been gone for a long time.  I miss it.  I need it.  And most importantly, I have to remember how it felt so I never lose sight of the fact that I’m worthy of finding it again.


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