easy surrender
[from a second wave – poetry]
the poem about paris and madrid didn’t come tonight
the music felt right
but the evening just seemed to be about something else
anything but another love poem
or something about desire and longing
good grief
haven’t we hit stride yet
hasn’t someone, anyone, arrived
after all the messages i’ve been leaving behind
broadcasting
singing
i’d put up smoke signals if it wouldn’t get me arrested
any new moment, any new dream
is now sort of boring
i’m tired of love poems and epiphanies
i’ve exhausted my quiver of arrows
i want to lie down now
next to her
have her say nothing
and me
too
silent
10-27-14
image: paris 240, jeremy thompson, creative commons usage
tiny epiphanies
[from a second wave – poetry]
i’m certain she smells terrific
as wonderful as she looks
this young exotic and unaware
something from my high school days
i’ve got the scent in my mind
or is that the guy sitting next to me
she’s wonderfully pretty to look at
but the desire is for something else
and still i admire
i poem
i praise
i am looking for my own
a bit more my size and era
it’s wonderful how the heart jumps
at the idea of a woman
and the magic of that attraction
at (nearly) any age
across the room
she is stomping her feet in line
coffee just ahead
before she bolts on
to her day job
this then is a prayer
to god, to beauty and youth
to coffee and sexual desire
and the power to move mountains
start wars
inspire greatness
and tiny epiphanies
10-24-14
image: coffee love letters, 2014 cc
i am, i can, i will, pause
[from a second wave – poetry]
i promise to space out my love letters to you
over months, years, etc. onward
i’ll remember to pause
to breathe
to ask
i know i am full of myself
i drop emotional land mines everywhere i go
and when someone is tuned differently
my enthusiasms can be disorienting
i cannot withhold
i won’t silence
the flow
magic
love
but i can hold the spaces in between
the inhalation
the pause
the release
the quiet
i’m comfortable
awaiting
what’s next
without trying to figure it out
i’ve learned this
over many years
i do not know
i cannot see what’s next
i only see you
and feel me, now
and it is this i attempt to capture
shining a light on the sliver
of hope
the shiver in my soul
is like a tuning fork
i hum when i resonate
i will sing songs
always
i will profess my love with a touch
and
i
listen
it is not all about me
never is
it is not even about “we”
something bigger is at play
supra super uber meta
i listen on all channels
and when i’m in the zone
i can cease the flow in my mind
of words and melodies
and absorb
you
i am
a
learning
a
patient
individual
really,
i am
10-23-2014
image: une petite pause, sophie & cie, creative commons usage
glistening
[from a second wave – poetry]
the sound of you
the feel, touch, taste
in my imagination
we are floating together
in the ocean
sun, sand, waves
that coursing sound
in our ears
and hearts
i hear your echoes
even from this distance
even before we’ve met
i hear you
in here
(touches chest)
and sometime
nearby
i will touch yours
and listen for
resonance
of joy
10-22-14
image: ocean spirit, philip male, creative commons usage
where you are not
[from a second wave – poetry]
somewhere somewhere anywhere
you are
i am not
and i wish i had a clue
to your location
and state of mind
in this somewhere where i am
i am missing something essential
like a mineral or nutrient
or warmth
i see images, films, fantasies
but i haven’t found my way
my self
my footing
i believe i have clues
potentials
i know i have nothing
it’s a feeling
an emptiness
and this moment
makes it clear
this
here
where you aren’t
where you could be
if the clues were simpler
it is not simple
here
peaceful
easy
feeling
and
not feeling
here
10-21-14
image: still from Lost In Translation
permanent word loss
[from a second wave – poetry]
yet another love poem
pay little or no attention to the details
drop it, delete it
forget that i’m writing to you
as i have gotten further removed
i have begun speaking in poetry
i’m sorry
it’s like an illness
this affliction of dropping words
cutting away any story
and looking for clues
in letters and sounds
i just like the way you feel
and i’m sort of waiting
for someone just like you
the you that i imagine
and write sonnets to
in hopes that some translation
is going to gain purchase
somewhere in the labyrinth of you
and light up some resonant response
like a call and answer
if you don’t comprehend
please don’t worry
let everything go
10-20-14
image: musical chairs, garrett coakley,creative commons usage
burning up in prayer
[from a second wave – poetry]
she’s probably here
in the organic grocery store
if i could just send up a flag
rebroadcast my tinder beacon
if she were receiving my vibe
indications are that she is not
but i search amidst the kale
and organic bubble bath
what, you don’t drink the water
breathe and release
smile in joy smile out hunger
i’ve survived like this for years
at a time
many years, even when married
or in a relationship
i have adapted my wants and needs
i’ve sublimated almost all of myself
and grown a bit more relaxed with myself
i still have my ambitious moments
and I reach for a star
and today i’ve learned
to give back the outcome
to release the hopes again
like embers of a fall bonfire
and on perfect nights
i can lose myself
and i can no longer tell
which is dream, and distance
and for a time long ago
and which are heat and light
burning up in prayer
10-19-14
embrace
[from a second wave – poetry]
a cloud or a heart or a whim
my mind and soul follows the day
either there is light and energy
or there is not
i turn towards the light
like a sunflower
soaking up
praying for
giving thanks
today i am the sky
all else falls away
there is no time for anger
the frustrations of progress
are all just strivings
let’s fall back
roll on the grass or down the hill
watch the clouds
today is ours
a sacred space
i create for me and you
embrace
10-19-2014
image: clouds, nikica beograd, creative commons usage
organic sweetness
[from a second wave – poetry]
i can see it in your eyes when i say hello
i’ve already done too much
i’m not your type
i’m too old, fat, conservative, square, something
or is it you
jaded
unhappy
unwelcoming
i can’t tell
the smile whipped of my face like a slap
as you looked beyond me
into “men”
and your experience of us, them, me
i’m okay being a ‘no’
but do you have to give a twist of the knife
this simple theater of the sexes
we play everyday
she’s trying to look good
but not interested in being appreciated
what then?
for her eyes only?
for the eye of her mate, or potential
perhaps the glare is a defense mechanism
i’m taken
my boyfriend
don’t touch
don’t ask
don’t tell
i’m learning to keep my appreciations in my head
instead of smiling and giving smiles away
if it’s a threat, i’d rather stay mute
is that what we’ve become
as we wonder around the organic food store
little universes, or attack ships
warding off all incoming
incoming
anything
that’s not what or who we want
i can’t stop
can i
passing this gladness around
it’s my nature
i’m not trolling or fishing
i’m just happy
i’m expressing my “hellos” out loud
we’ve got defector shields up
and dating profiles on
and we’re filtering each other quickly
effortlessly with a swipe or a yes
and in real life
are we starting to do the same thing
yes, no, no, no, no, maybe
are we cutting our kindness and communication
for fear of giving the wrong signals
i get it
we’re like predators
always on the hunt
and you are a tasty treat
that much is obvious
regardless of your angry glance
but i am no hungry for youth or attitude
i’m not prowling and pouncing
in this jungle of juice, apples, and hand lotion
i’m just here
looking for sustenance
appreciating a form or two
forking up some kale salad
and a sparkling italian water
with citrus flavoring
don’t you wonder what the “natural flavor” is
if there’s something more natural or unnatural about it
and I wonder that about you, for a second
as you pass your glance and scowl across me
natural, unnatural, organic, or commercially processed
and from the lulus you might appear to be a yogini
but there’s very little zen
in your upper class attitude
the designer leggings fit nicely
but the real creamy center
the part you’re supposed to be working on
in savasana
appears to be sour
i pass
i dream
i smile all the time
at old, young, pretty, and all
it’s my nature
it’s not about you
or your fantastic form
and the hollow mantra you must be chanting
10-18-14
image: savasana, amy, creative commons usage
actively waiting in your absence
[from a second wave – poetry]
i’m just sittin here watchin the world
go round an round in search of
coffee
seeing these lovelies
before their excitable jolt
and then seeing the transformation
it’s a parade
at 7 am
in a ritzy part of town
with high heels
lulus
working non-working
moms girls women ladies yoginis
and i have the catbird’s seat
by the cooler
with an eye to the pastries
and imaginary lovers
as they stream by
wouldn’t it be amazing if she smiled
rather than looked so serious
wouldn’t it be cool to not be looking
to be curled around my someone
rather than scouting for potentials
since losing you
it’s been a bitch
things don’t feel quite right
but
it’s clear it’s not you i’m missing
sorry
it’s the skin
the soul
the kisses
for now, i have this
i have a women in a perfect tennis outfit
a bit rushed
she must have a court time
nearby
she must be a goddess
or a fitness instructor
i can’t fall in love
really
with a dream
with a passing leg or strong-arm
i’m not attracted to the convertible
she came in on
but i do fall into hair
of all lengths and colors
and the pull of desire
to bury my face the damp garden
of magic smells and warmth
i’ve been alone for too long
i can tell when my chemistry is faltering
i need a hit of something
someone
and yet
i don’t want any of these women
i don’t know anymore
what criteria to use
or what measure of the soul
a body
in motion
is a beautiful thing
but it loses its gloss
when the light inside is dim
or diminished by anger
or too much pride
too fine a dress or heel
but without her
i know i am a shell
or a snake
in deadly wait state
ready to strike
against the glass of my cage
before i know
if i am predator or prey
i lie in wait
actively
seeing
seeking
and
arriving at patience again
now
and now
10-14-14
Haunted By the Ghost of a Kiss
Okay, I’ll admit it: I’ve not been the same since I had the euphoric hit with my first Tinder date. Nothing since has even come close. I’m actually taking an O2 break, and working on myself for a bit before jumping back into the dating pool. I mean, I’m looking, but I’m not interested in anything less that fantastic. And for THREE STRANGE DAYS I had it. But what changed? Do I believe her story? Or did something cool rapidly? Was there something I did? Was she actually a bit manic when we met and coming down a few days later, realized “Nope, he’s not what I’m looking for.”
Sure. It’s happened to me. I got intoxicated once by a woman who kissed like a teenager. The hope and inspiration in that kissing was all I needed. But it was a short runway. And before we attained flight, I had a moment to assess the actual woman rather than her lips and sexy texts and …
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I’m happy and sad to have missed the madness we could have created together. But madness is not what I need.
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Okay, it’s an old story. Sure it’s a new dawn for me, but ONE close miss has been enough to upset my optimistic approach to dating again. I’m a bit jaded. I don’t want FIRST DATES. Ever! Okay, that’s not accurate. Let me try again. First dates can be a real drag. I’ve had about three, TOTAL, in four years that were worth the price of a cup of coffee. And I’ve had a lot more that should have never happened. I’m learning. But what my crush showed me, was how close I am to manic passion myself.
I was ready to leap. I was kissing and fantasizing and talking with this woman. And each time she showed up, all three times, I was again fascinated by her looks, her humor, and her passionate style. And she appeared to rise to the occasion as well. Leaning in on the second date, in the parking lot and kissing me with a fury. She texted me later, “I kiss like I make love.” SHIT. She was on fire. But perhaps she was also showing how out of balance she was in her life, as well.
It was a furiously fast pace. But when the chemistry is on, you know it. And with both of you feel it’s on, and are *both* able to express it… The rush is like a drug. You’re chemical romance revs up and you’re ready to go. Ready for whatever. Flexible. Encouraged. Hot.
Usually, I was the one in pursuit. This time I had a live wire. Was something off? Was it me?
And then a bump on the runway. An emergency exit. And a text that said
What? Where did “at least be friends” come from. It wasn’t in our vocabulary. We weren’t broken up, we hadn’t fought. We had merely paused with the understanding that her life had suddenly become unmanageable. Okay. That’s fine. But this was a breakup text. This was what you say when you’re shutting down a relationship.
Okay. Information received. And yet, she haunts me. I was flipping through my texts and her name showed up. “DAMN,” I thought. Rather than just a little break, a bit of time to sort out the chaos of her immediate life transition, she had kissed me off with a “be friends” text.
What does this say about where she was? Had I been led on? Or did we both merely feedback and connect and generate a lot of heat? Then, as things got complex in her life, I was the simplest item to eject? And sure, messy love is consuming. But she had fired up Tinder as well? She had said she was looking for the next relationship. She shut down her Tinder app within 24 hours of meeting me. “That’s how I do it. I’m not looking to date. I’m looking to find one person and see where things go.” I’m pretty sure that’s a summation of her story. And perhaps the “where things go” had changed for her after date/meeting number three.
I’m not obsessing. But I’m also having a hard time moving on from this moment in the sun of passion, messiness, and an enthusiastic partner.
On the flip side she had a few “um, wait a minute” items
- She was smashingly good-looking (a smile that melted me)
- She responded quickly and affirmatively to our Tinder correspondence
- We met within 24 hours and kissed late into the second hour of our first date
- She lit up with energy and joy when we met, but maybe it was just too good to be true, maybe it was *too much* energy
- A few unsolicited selfies moved things on rather quickly
- Her fluency with sexual communication came through in our early phone calls
- She gave me a heat rash when I thought about her (things were just a tad too hot)
Um, those can all be good things. But in this case they might have been too good to be true. Too energetic. Too willing to jump into the fantasy of where things could go.
As I browsed our texts and saw the enticing photos she sent me I was saddened for a moment as I recalled the hope she kindled. But it was a false hope. And this is obvious by the way she exited and removed all potential for the future with that one text. When I saw that again, I said to myself. “If you open this one back up, you are just spending wasted energy on a dead-end. She’d contact you again if she were interested. I mean, if *she* was as thrilled as you were, she’d be asking for another glass of wine as soon as things settled down.”
But it wasn’t the settling down that needed to happen for her. Her life had been chaos before we met, and was chaos when we began “dating” and it devolved into even bigger chaos. I’m happy and sad to have missed the madness we could have created together. But madness is not what I need. I’ve had a taste of that before too. And I’m not interested in heading back into something intoxicating yet lacking in fundamental integrity. And maybe that’s the rub. She was awesome. Or what she *showed me* was awesome. Maybe the chaos she was showing was only what she couldn’t hide of her maelstrom. Perhaps beneath the writhing and hopeful surface she was a vortex.
I’d meet her and kiss her today if she called. But I’m pretty clear now, that she won’t. And it would not be the best thing for me either. Heady, but not healthy. Oh love, you fickle bitch.
Sincerely,
The Off Parent
@theoffparent
back to On Dating Again
related posts:
- Big 5 Relationship Questions to Answer Before You Start Dating Again
- The Cute and Happy Woman is Nearby, I’ve Seen Her
- She Came On Like a Freight Train – The Woman Who Says “Yes”
- 5 Early Warning Signs When Dating: Looking for Ms. Lovejoy
image: unknown woman image, russian photographer site vk, creative commons usage
of course i think about you
[from a second wave – poetry]
i want you to dance
to feel
express
every
single
l. e. t. t. e. r.
words to sounds to body
6-16-13
image: head over heels, courtney carmody, creative commons usage
a late start
[from a second wave – poetry]
white convertible porsche
lululemon tennis gear
a pony tail and
an 11 am court time
on a working day
of course there’s a huge rock
and a beautiful smile
and an elaborate
cup of coffee
i could get used to this
if i were
young
beautiful
female
and well-married
10-9-14
eager for the game
[from a second wave – poetry]
i fell in love today 101 times
she’s not amazing or anything
but she’s playing tennis
and i’ve discovered that I love her
every time i return to the back of the line
and i look at her smile
and lulu-fit skirts
something occurs to me
as i’m falling in love
for the 73rd time
she’s just a woman
playing tennis
sure she’s young
she’s pretty and fit
and athletic
but it’s her inside out forehand that gets me
i’ve become aware
on the 84th time i fall in love
that it must be more about me
the smell of the fall air
and the thwack of the balls
that has me
head over heels
on the 98th time
i fall in love
class is almost over
and i’m aching to understand
if there’s something more to it
or if she could also be participating
i ask her a question
she is wonderful
happy, distracted, and…
just a young woman
playing tennis
on a fall afternoon
i am still in love
and will return on friday
to see if she’s as eager
for the game
as i am
10-8-14
bella
[from a second wave – poetry]
she was tan and fit and blonde
and too young
not really my type
but she was holding a tennis racket
as she passed i smelled Mexico
like a fantastic hotel room
breeze blowing in through the curtains
and the sand and ocean still on us
making love on a tired afternoon
burned from the close sun
smiles, tan lines, and laughter
10-6-14
image: tan, emergency break, creative commons usage
Girl Gone: She Doesn’t Need Or Want My Attention
In fact, often, our attention is unwanted all together. We can easily forget this if we’re not paying attention to our actions.
The beautiful young woman sat at a table across from me. Unblemished, blue-eyed and blonde, and opened her Macbook Air. And of course she drank tea and not coffee. And I caught myself being fascinated. A bit too fascinated.
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She’s as plain and simple, and amazingly beautiful. The last thing she wants from me, or perhaps anyone in this place, is a proposition.
|
As men it is easy to slip into the hunter mode. I’m alone, slightly lonely, and she’s a beautiful potential. And she’s not. It’s hard to remember that all women are NOT potentials. And this woman is clearly out of my own desirable age range. Of course, she is still pretty and nice to observe. But more like a gymnast in the Olympics, and not as a potential partner.
I don’t desire her. In fact she reminds me more of my 11 yo daughter than any kind of relationship candidate. Still we’re trained, conditioned, prone, to look. Are we recalling our earlier lives? Are we simply appreciating one of god’s beautiful creations? What does she hold, in terms of my intentions? Nothing. I am merely an observer.
What then is objectification?
- Seeing every woman as a potential sex partner
- Appreciating a feature of a woman (large breasts, for example) rather than the entire woman
- Qualifying or ranking women in terms of beauty or sexual potential
- Unwanted appreciations or propositions from a stranger
Okay, so I’m clearly not in those patterns. I can see her. Appreciate her. And leave her along. But it is a process I’m learning. My natural instinct was in full display a few weeks ago when I was attending a cardio tennis workout at a local tennis club. A young woman joined our group and I was again “fascinated” by her youth, fitness, and natural beauty. And I’ll admit to a weakness for women in tennis skirts.
And as the first class ended I had this impulse to ask her about her relationship status. What? I was tempted, but I quelled the urge and looked into what was going on for me and for her.
First her: She was in a tennis class to get fit and get back into tennis. She was only able to join the class, she mentioned, because her youngest daughter had finally entered pre-k. (Um, so she was YOUNG.) And she had every right to join our class without being hit on. BOOM.
Me: She was attractive, fit, and wearing a black Lululemon tennis skirt. She was fun and happy. She played tennis. And she radiated her happiness at being there, playing, and being unmolested. I got it. I stopped short of saying anything but, “See ya next time.” And I even had to check my intentions on that, as he skipped off the court. I wasn’t prospecting, I was merely being welcoming.
In a world full of hungry men, I am sure women are constantly under the sexual predators focus. My intention is not to be that predator. Unwanted affection or attention is an invasion. I know it’s hard to see that sometimes, but even the common, “You look great,” can be a probing statement rather than a complement. I was certain that I wasn’t heading down that road. But I will admit that I was hoping she was at the next class.
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As a man currently not in a relationship, I am more acutely aware of the pretty women in my presence. But my hunger is mine alone.
|
This focus for me is more about understanding the world I want my daughter to inherit. Men need to get our acts together and keep our testosterone in our pants. I asked on Facebook a few months ago about this.
“So when a beautiful woman enters the room. And you notice. She’s obviously put a lot of effort into showing up and being gorgeous. What’s the appropriate response?”
The overwhelming answer from women was, “Nothing. She’s not dressed up for you.”
The other options were, “Smile.” And the ever-risky, “You look nice.” And leave it at that.
Today’s culture has the idea that she is looking to get laid. Or that she’s seeking the attention of every man. She’s not. She might be dressed to the nines for an interview, for a new boyfriend, or just because she likes to dress up.
And today, the woman at the table working on her Macbook and listening to music is not dressed up or made up at all. She’s as plain and simple, and amazingly beautiful. The last thing she wants from me, or perhaps anyone in this place, is a proposition. Today we’re full of the idea that catcalls and overt expressions of lust are okay. They aren’t. It’s almost as if I’d protect her from a predator. Of course I won’t… Or wait, I am. I am protecting her from me and my on hunger, my own predator instincts.
Women are beautiful. As a man currently not in a relationship, I am more acutely aware of the pretty women in my presence. But my hunger is mine alone. And my responsibility is to keep my lust and desire to myself. There are certain situations where this attraction impulse is appropriate and part of the ritual. On a date, in a dance club, perhaps. But here in public, at a coffee shop, on the tennis court, she, every woman, deserves our respect not our misdirected intentions. I’ll keep my intentions to myself, thank you very much. I’m sure she’s enjoying her tea just fine without my encouragement or encroachment.
Sincerely,
The Off Parent
@theoffparent
I hope this is the effect of my coffee love letter poems. Simple appreciation and zero impact.
related posts:
- The Cute and Happy Woman is Nearby, I’ve Seen Her
- She Came On Like a Freight Train – The Woman Who Says “Yes”
- The Happy, the Fit, and the Beautiful
- If Age is Just a Number Why Do I Still Want to Lie About My Age?
image: girl gone, the off parent, cc 2014
If You Were a Car, What Car Would You Be? And Why?
I’m a marketing man, by trade, so often we use little tricks to get clients to think about their businesses. “What kind of car would your business be? Describe the features and outstanding qualities that distinguish your make and model.”
I have found that this metaphor, cars, works for people as well. And in my efforts to dial in myself and my type, I think it might be fun to play a bit with the “what kind of car are you” and “what kind of car are you looking for” metaphor for a minute and see if we gain any insights.
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You might still be carrying some scars from previous races, but overall, you are still a fine example of beauty and grace.
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First me. I am a 2004 BMW 3-series. Great look and body style. Performance oriented. Flashier 10 years ago, but still classic. I’m sporting a bit of extra weight due to some prior body damage, but you can still recognize the lines and strength of the design.
Okay, so I’m not the perfectly maintained version of myself. I’ve got some things I can still work on. And probably the main feature, that I’m less that enthusiastic about is my belly. (There I admitted it.) My love handles have been with me my entire life, and they expand and shrink with the seasons and how much attention I’m paying to diet and exercise. Okay, I’m fine with that. And I think… I think I’m pretty comfortable with myself. But I’m sucking in my gut a lot more than I’d like. It’s like a tightness, almost an anxiety feeling, when I’m trying to compress myself to look a bit fitter than I am. But I’ve done this almost my entire life. So I am familiar with the feeling. I’m pretty sure I’d be more confident and joyous about myself if I spent a tiny bit more time walking or playing tennis, and a few less nights snacking and staying up late. Okay, that’s me.
Her. This one is harder. So I’ll take it in stages.
German engineering. I want a performance car. I want design and form to follow the function of speed and agility. I have a high standard. American cars are almost abhorrent to me. Again, this is MY bias. I understand that. But I’m looking for a well-designed and classy form.
Within 5 years of my own vintage. The newer models are cool, and offer more features, more performance, but I’m less obsessed with perfection and flash. I’d prefer a car with a few miles on it, broken in, all the kinks worked out, well-maintained, but less needy.
Minimal body damage. When something is broken you fix it. When a tire is worn or low you replace it. You might still be carrying some scars from previous races, but overall, you are still a fine example of beauty and grace. You don’t have to be flawless. I’m not sure my body damage falls within my own range of desirability or not. I think I do, but I’d rather get a bit more of my racing shape back, rather that compromise.
No compromise. The big thing is having a car you love to drive. Spending time inside, even in traffic, or carpooling kids back and forth, is a pleasure. I want to be well matched. Confident and casual about our relationship. I want you to drive sometimes, but I’ll do the lion’s share.
No maintenance lights. A few “check engine” warnings and we’re probably going to part ways. If you haven’t kept a descent maintenance schedule, we might have some problems ahead. I’m flexible, but I won’t be stuck in the repair shop and very happy about it. Do your work, fix your major mechanical flaws, and let’s meet up for a Sunday morning drive together. We should fit. We should purr together and not feel the need to race ahead or prove anything.
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Once we’ve travelled together for a few trips, perhaps she will join me in my car, or I will gladly hop in her car for a spin up the mountain pass.
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Confidence and stability. Performance driving cars share a love for the road. Curves, dips, and hills are all part of the landscape. And with a well-built car, the twists are a joy to navigate. Cars with less attention to handling become more unstable as the journey continues. I’d like a partner in the confidence and stability class.
However she shows up, the next woman will be a performance car. She will have a few miles on her, like me, and have some wisdom and aging scars. Once we’ve travelled together for a few trips, perhaps she will join me in my car, or I will gladly hop in her car for a spin up the mountain pass. I’m into speed and beauty, but I’m also realistic about myself and my vintage. All the new models, primed and polished, are fun to look at, but I don’t aspire to be in a new model. The payments are too high, and the insurance is killer.
If you’re looking for a classic German sports car, with low miles and good mechanical structure… I am too.
Sincerely,
The Off Parent
@theoffparent
Note: This post really got me thinking about my shape. The body damage is unnecessary. I am carrying extra weight from stress, depression, anger, sadness, and plain old laziness. Too lazy to eat right. Too lazy to pick up a few more healthy snacks. But mainly, just unwilling to make a commitment to change my diet in the same way I have changed my attitudes about divorce and my single life. That all changes today. A new blog is born. Seek me out and I’ll give you the address. And you can hold me accountable for the next major life transition. Back to my classic beauty and form. I might be nearing 52, but I’m primed for the second half of my life. I’d rather do it from a comfortable place in my skin, and not just an accepting place.
back to On Dating Again
related posts:
- Big 5 Relationship Questions to Answer Before You Start Dating Again
- The Cute and Happy Woman is Nearby, I’ve Seen Her
- She Came On Like a Freight Train – The Woman Who Says “Yes”
- The Happy, the Fit, and the Beautiful
image: sporty front end of my new beemer, ian mcwilliams, creative commons usage
strength and softness
[from a second wave – poetry]
i see the smile
the mosquito bites on her back
the back of strength and softness
and desire moving away from me
and she waits
she stops and sips her coffee
turns and smiles at me
or the barista
it’s hard to tell from here
and it doesn’t matter
as the flutter has begun
it’s mine and mine alone
she is gone before she notices
anything about me
still she is smiling
in my mind
in my heart
of hopefulness
9-29-14
image: at starbucks, lokate366, creative commons usage
are you the one who passes by
[from a second wave – poetry]
are you the one who passes by
missing the gifts and glitter
i am tossing in your direction
are you the sadness i’ve lost
the thrill i imagine
the poem i keep writing
hoping
over and over
that you will
finally
show up
are you the one who shows up
and leaves the next morning
or even before the kissing has begun
and can you feel what as been left behind
have you any idea
what a chemistry like ours
what few chances we have
at this
this
this
this small moment
as we touched and parted
when you kissed and left
crushed, crushing, crush
i knew you were gone
before i had a chance to believe
you had actually arrived
and the things that changed
of course things always change
but these things seemed big
certainly bigger than us
bigger than a few days of electricity
and it was a pattern
it was a failure of the system
it was timing again
working away from our goals
and slipping us a little tongue
only to pull back and away
and gone
are you the one who passes by
missing
so much
missing
and missing
so much
9-23-14
image: student walking by, susan sermoneta, creative commons usage
She Came On Like a Freight Train – The Woman Who Says “Yes”
The light at the end of the tunnel may be an oncoming train, or a love crush barreling down on you.
My first Tinder crush went swimmingly and ended without a whimper. The poem (i could fall in love with a dress if it shone in the sun) was written about the final moments of this most amazing firework pop and fizzle of a relationship to-date. She was here, she came on like a freight train, and now she has passed by in the night without so much as a whimper. And I let her go. We let each other go. “Maybe for later, when your life sorts itself out a bit,” I said to her.
“I’ve always done this. I’ve always gotten into a romantic relationship right at the beginning of some huge change. I did it with my divorce, I did it when I graduated from college, and I was doing it again with you. But I’ve got to stop, this time. I’ve got to make a change. Something has got to give.”
In fact, for me, the poem was a part of the letting go process. What started out as three amazingly intense days of courtship, felt a bit too good to be true. And maybe it was. Or maybe the universe shifted, for both of us, and we needed to regroup, alone. That is certainly the case for her. And me? Well, I’m not sure if the relationship part of it needed regrouping, but I was aware of my tendency to stretch out towards someone, even after the connection was severed.
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I love the wake up text. The little ritual of saying “Good Morning, Sunshine.” Just letting the other person know you are thinking of them.
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It’s about being 50/50. It’s about being contributing members of the growing relationship. And when one or another partner drops out of the 50/50 partnership, it’s about stopping and listening to hear what is going on. In our case, her life had taken a wild and unexpected turn, like a rocket blasting off from the back of our collective freight train, once I had gotten on the same track with her.
Enough metaphor. She was amazing. She looked and spoke as deliciously as she texted and showed up in her best profile pictures. I could see through the styling, and honored the core brilliance that came out from the moment we met. And we met with great joy, in the middle of a huge bookstore, playing hide and seek. And she found me in the blank book section. “My favorite section,” I had texted her earlier.
“Is it appropriate for persons’s under 18 years of age?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Is it the kid’s section?”
“No.”
“Literature?”
“Great guess, but no.”
I picked the meeting spot, she picked the game. We hugged and laughed in the sweet smelling area of leather bindings and blank pages. And we talked and talked and walked around the store for a couple hours.
“I really would like to kiss you,” I said, somewhere in the middle of the second hour. “I’m just letting you know that.”
She smiled. “I would like that too,” she said, with a sly smile on her face. I was blinded a bit by the direct sunlight, but I was already feeling a bit smitten. “In a bit,” she continued.
We moved our coffees and chat into a more shady part of the outdoor park, and continued leaping from books, to blogs, to writing, to food. She was a #foodie. I am not a #foodie, but I worked with #foodies for two years. We had a lot to talk about and a lot of mutual energy to fuel us along.
She reached out her hands at some point and pulled my face in for the kiss. She planted the kiss. She initiated. She took charge. And I went back in for a second kiss a few minutes later. Reciprocating. But alas, the mosquitos and sunlight were pushing us back inside, and when there was no place to sit, we decided to rendezvous, perhaps tomorrow.
“Yes, definitely,” she said. ” I’d like to give you a kiss after your first day at your new job.”
And we texted a few more times over the night. The next morning we picked up with the chatter. This is the fun of new dating. I love the wake up text. The little ritual of saying “Good Morning, Sunshine.” Just letting the other person know you are thinking of them. And it goes both ways. It’s a simple tap. A connection that requires little more than a willingness to imagine a relationship.
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We texted a few times and spoke once over the weekend. This is from full-tilt boogie, three days in a row, amazing morning selfie of a kiss, and on to ZIP.
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It’s like a virtual “good morning” kiss. Except, of course, you’ve just met. But still, there is a lot of potential in those little hellos. And she was a master of the flirt. She called me on my way to work, and we had a spirited conversation about sex, and kids, and relationships, and work. And we made plans to meet for a glass of wine after work. DONE. She was efficient, hilarious, and full of love and life. I was liking this development.
In all but one of my post-divorce dating experiences I have been the over-sharing partner. I have courted when perhaps I should’ve played coy. I have sent a poem when I might have been better served to just be quiet. The whole absence makes the heart grow fonder, thing seems more like game playing as adults. If you like someone, tell them. If they like you back, jump in. She was certainly jumping in. And I was excited to see how things played out.
The wine bar date was no less exhilarating. Except this time I was anticipating the future kisses with mad fantasies. And she arrived looking like the smiling picture she had sent me earlier in the day. She was radiant. And we jostled along in our second date, wine bar, “what was your day like” conversation. It was a moment between anything actually happening. We had exchanged some very intimate information via text and phone calls, but we still didn’t really know each other. Not at all. But there was a lot of energy and intention, and that was enough to set us both on a fast track.
In the parking lot, saying goodbye she kissed me, or we kissed, again. This time there was no casual innuendo, it was all kissing. And while it didn’t last more than a minute, I was electrified. Not by the kiss, but by the potential behind the kiss. Here was a beautiful woman, saying she was ready for a relationship, saying that she thought I was cute and funny and smart, and kissing me madly in the parking lot. And we made plans to see each other the next day as well. And we parted. I walked to my car with the lift of someone who’s been well-kissed.
That was the first real moment between us, and the last good moment between us at the same time.
As things would progress, I was fired the next day, due mostly to this blog. And that collapse of my plan, nearly cratered the relationship all in one fail swoop. But she wanted to give me a hug, and to support me in this massive bummer. We met. We exchanged some more information about our current state of unknowingness. She started talking about how she had no business getting involved with anyone at this moment… And then she had to go get her daughter. We kissed awkwardly in the parking lot, in broad daylight, in a hurry. And she’d let me know her schedule over the next three days was going to be mad. So we parted in this semi-unresolved, semi-unstable place.
And then her life changed dramatically as well. (I can’t tell you about it, or I’d have to shoot you.) And I saw her smile and her texts almost drain right off my phone. The communication went from 80 mph back to a full-stop in a hurry.
I went with my “hold on loosely” strategy. Pinging, but not over pinging. A couple messages without any requests or commitment. Essentially I was supporting her in this new opportunity. And she was going with it, and full of her life. We texted a few times and spoke once over the weekend. This is from full-tilt boogie, three days in a row, amazing morning selfie of a kiss, and on to ZIP. Nothing? It was painful. It was also understandable.
The poem I was writing over the weekend to try and give a love poem to frame the joy I was getting into. Of course, the story played out, the poem went unfinished and then like magic the story completed to resolve the poem without the need for another letter.
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I am ready for the dress in the sun. I am hoping there will be an intelligent and attractive woman inside who is also ready for me.
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She had come and we had sparked. When we talked on the phone this morning, it was to say, “You were awesome, the timing is not awesome.” And I told her the poem was a capture of that amazing moment in the parking lot. Full of promise and potential and all imaginary. And now the poem was the answer, the complete story of us.
i could fall in love with a dress if it shone in the sunlight
I did start falling. And she let me. She responded with a “yes.” And now we’ve moved back into our individual stories, to see if at some time down the road our romance would make more sense. But we were both happy, when we spoke today. I was so glad to have rubbed up against her at such an amazing time for both of us. And we may or may not ever see each other again, and that’s okay too. But the poem captures the full experience for me.
I am ready for the dress in the sun. I am hoping there will be an intelligent and attractive woman inside who is also ready for me. This time, I got the dress and the girl, but the timing was amiss. But she gave me a taste of what things might look like when someone DOES show up, and that someone IS ready for a relationship.
Sincerely,
The Off Parent
@theoffparent
back to On Dating Again
related posts:
- The Happy, the Fit, and the Beautiful
- My Casual Sex Experience – First Lesson
- Crossfit Sex
- An Early Frost: Dating Options and Casual Sex
image: girl in the beach, bruno caimi, creative commons usage
i could fall in love with a dress if it shone in the sun
[from a second wave – poetry]
i could imagine the last kiss
and recall your words and grip
and the windy skies in the parking lot
before it all went to hell
where is that dress
the one i long to take off your body
where are you tonight
9-20-14
image: untitled, nathan o’nions, creative commons usage
Love at the Speed of Text or Tinder or … f a s t
Okay, texting is not a great method for finding love, but it’s what we’ve got. And at least, if you’re got their phone number you’re a step closer to contacting them for real, maybe “in-person” even. So when you send the
and you don’t get an immediate response, just chill. However, when you don’t get the message until a second message is sent, you’ve probably already been deleted from “potential” contacts.
And that’s it… It’s that simple to “know” you’re done. Whatever the chemistry was on your end, it was not reciprocated or appreciated. When there is a YES on both ends the delays are short and sweet. So that Match date while exciting is a NO. Oh well…
And then we move on to the speed of Tinder or it’s imitators. (Hinge or LinkedUp) And while I just got my account activated yesterday, I’m aware that this ultra-superficial process is a hot topic. My friend who has had some success with Tinder is a big fan. In fact, one of the interesting trends with these apps is travel. Imagine hitting a new city and opening up your Tinder app to see who in the NEW area might be up for a drink… or who knows…
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I’m guessing she’s had better offers from younger and cuter guys. Probably a lot of them.
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If we are moving into an era where women’s sexuality is going to be as liberated as men’s then why wouldn’t a woman hit us up on Tinder for a drink and then invite us to their room. It’s happening all around us. I don’t think it’s my bag, and it’s a bit exhausting to be flicking photos to the left for NOPE and right for YES. And as a newbie I have yet to see the JOIN signal on any of the apps. But it’s 100% image driven. And while that’s interesting, the context provided on dating sites is valuable.
I don’t want to waste an evening on a Tinder date any more than I do on a mismatched Match date. Time is currency and loser dates are like throwing $45 and an evening into the trashcan. I don’t mean to be harsh, but something about these “hookup-driven” apps are a turn off for me. Even when the woman says, “No looking for a hookup date, if that’s what your after just PASS,” I’m not so sure that there’s much else possible.
Sure you get a few pictures. And a tiny snippet of content from their Facebook profile. But that’s it. And again, there is a lot you can glean from a texting conversation, but this might be a younger person’s game. But who knows, I’ve not gotten a sweet hit yet.
Slow dating is where my head is at, at the moment. No hurry to meet unless there’s some real magic.
And finally there’s the new girl on Match. Soooo cute and seemingly available.
Who says “Let’s go” to every one of my emails. BUT… she’s new and she’s about to get flooded with dudes with offers as good or better than mine. Maybe closer to her age, 43, and type. She passed her phone number on to me very quickly and suggested a walk around the lake with her dog, Frank. I didn’t even know her name when we started texting, but I knew her dog’s name.
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She sure came back strong and funny. But nothing after the initial flood of conversation and “let’s go” emails.
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Needless to say she’s gone quiet. We even exchanged a few texts and she did give me her name. And she kept up the “let’s go” attitude, but I can’t get a “hello” date set no matter how casual and easy I am making it.
In my experience striking for the NEW TO MATCH folks is a good idea. They say all of the good ones are taken, and perhaps the really good ones are snapped up quickly. But for sure, the good and cute and new ones on Match are overwhelmed rather quickly if they are female. We have been trained, as men, to be the aggressor, the initiator. And that doesn’t seem to have changed on the dating sites at this point. Or perhaps I’m not in the target range of any women that are attractive to me. There are certainly a few older women who introduce themselves. And maybe that’s how I appear to this lovely and new 43 year-old.
She sure came back strong and funny. But nothing after the initial flood of conversation and “let’s go” emails. I’m guessing she’s had better offers from younger and cuter guys. Probably a lot of them. I’ll be surprised if I can get a response out of her at all now that she’s gotten the lay of the land.
And this made me smile today.
Except it was a false positive. No matches yet. Onward through the fog and fury of online dating and the new quick apps.
Sincerely,
The Off Parent
@theoffparent
back to On Dating Again
related posts:
- The Happy, the Fit, and the Beautiful
- My Casual Sex Experience – First Lesson
- An Early Frost: Dating Options and Casual Sex
- If Age is Just a Number Why Do I Still Want to Lie About My Age?
- 5 Early Warning Signs When Dating: Looking for Ms. Lovejoy
image: giant-tinder-polypore, emilian robert vicole, creative commons image
just for fun, don’t forget to practice safe sex (joke):
The Happy, the Fit, and the Beautiful
I’m not a huge fan of artificial beauty. And to be honest, I’m a little afraid of the uber-fit or uber-beautiful, but that’s my problem. When looking for my next relationship all of these things have to be taken into account, and some of them are contradictory.
Happy.
That is my number one indicator of success in a relationship. I KNOW how happy I am, and I project this joy and enthusiasm everywhere I go. I have been married twice, to people who liked to bask in my joyous glow, but perhaps did not have as much radiance to contribute themselves. I have begun learning, as I have now dated several women, that happiness is the biggest turn-on there is, for me.
Fit.
The obsession with glorious abs is a bit overblown in my opinion. When my wife was in her fittest mode, she felt a bit hard and unhealthy. There was a edge to her attention to fitness and getting her run in, regardless of what needed to be done. Now I understand the runner’s need to run. But when she was her fittest she was also her most obsessive about everything else. And in contrast, when she had just given birth to our second child, and was probably at her softest, body wise, and heart-wise, I thought she was about perfect.
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Why do 90% of the people on the trail who are running look so uncomfortable? And us walkers seem much happier.
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I’ve met the fit-obsessed women in my recent years of singlehood, and talking about “working out” is probably one of the last things I find fascination with. Um, do it, run, swim, diet, Pilates, whatever, but don’t make a life’s journey about. OR, if you do, I guess you need to find someone else who has the same priority in life. My priority is health, wellness, and how I feel about myself. The six-pack abs of my high school swim team days are long gone.
I’d rather walk around the lake with you than try and keep up a conversation while we’re jogging. Besides, if you don’t run correctly you’re probably in for more injuries and less overall quality of life, that greatly outweighs the longevity benefits in my life. There was a joke once about how for every hour you ran you added a day of life to your mortality. The punchline, yes, but you just spent an hour running.
Why do 90% of the people on the trail who are running look so uncomfortable? And us walkers seem much happier. And I don’t really see the runners=fit walkers=not-as-fit concept holding up as I observe the men and women on the trail. There are just as many obese people running as there are fit people walking. Again, fitness and uber-fitness (or fitness obsession) are different things.
Beautiful.
There is something about a beautiful face or smile that can transform any body type into a potential. But there are also a lot of beautiful people who are unhappy. It may not be due to their outward appearance, but it seems the most beautiful people I’ve ever met have been pretty neurotic in some fundamental way. Either they were overly focused on their hair, makeup, clothes, shoes, etc. to really pay much attention to their attitudes or their mental/spiritual programs. No, beauty is not a spiritual attainment, but it can be a part of someone’s life that is more of a burden than a blessing.
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I have never known chemistry to develop over time. Either you have a tail wag or you don’t.
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And with beauty I have to talk about my fixation on women’s shoes. 90% of the time, when I see a woman in Carry Bradshaw heals I think, “Gross.” And it’s not that I don’t think some of them are quite sexy, but it’s something else. Perhaps it’s the extravagance of a $500 pair of fashion accessories that is distasteful to me, but I don’t really know an expensive one from a cheap knockoff. Perhaps it’s the “porn look” that I associate with this kind of foot ware, the in-the-mall-look-at-me sort of vibe. And I am willing to admit that it’s my problem. But something about a woman in really sexy shoes says, “No thanks,” to me. And I’ve known men who were just as shoe obsessed, but it was running shoes, lots and lots of running shoes. There’s something a bit hedonistic about a shoe obsession, and when the budgets have monthly dollars assigned to them, I’m just baffled.
Anyway, what I’m learning about, in my short dating career is that all of these things factor together to make a YES or a NO for me, for my base animal instinct, we like to refer to as chemistry. It’s either we are wagging our tail when we see the other person or we are not. And if we are both wagging our tails we can start imagining or drafting ideas about a relationship.
I have never known chemistry to develop over time. Either you have a tail wag or you don’t. There are “maybe” tail wags, that might actually be an indication of something that could be build more firmly on the rest of the relationship, but most of us want the strong, leg-slapping, tail wag of passion before we’re ready to invest in building a relationship.
And of course, there are the casual daters who are looking for nothing more than an opportunity to exploit the tale of another animal without any concern about “where things are going.” That’s okay too, but it’s just not me. I tried casual sex and I’m not that into it. But maybe I haven’t had the leg-slapper yet either. And if I did, I imagine I would want to start building something where there may be nothing to build.
Sincerely,
The Off Parent
@theoffparent
back to On Dating Again
related posts:
First Date Lessons: If You’re Not Falling, You’re Not Learning
First dates. Oh boy. They always teach you something. And even if the wine flows, if you stay sharp, you can pick up on signals… or think you can. And as a learning individual I am getting closer to the present moment of dating, or dating ‘in the moment,’ then ever before. Last night, for example, a Match date finally agreed to meet up after weeks of back and forth emails. And the date was set, and we began some playful banter a few hours before our rendezvous.
“Do you like cigars?” she texted. “You’re date tonight…”
“What? Cigars?”
“I guess that’s a no then.”
“Do YOU like cigars?” I asked.
“Very much. A bit of a hobby. Not an addiction.”
And we were off to the races for our first “hello” date later that evening.
When we finally met over a glass or two of red wine I was curious to watch my own reaction and responses to her. I was sort of in observer-mode, but also very much open to whatever the present moment would bring.
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The same phrase kept coming through loud and clear, “while I was dating a couple people…” I’m not sure if I was turned on by that idea, repulsed by it, or intrigued about the opportunities of the evening.
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I noticed right away that she was charming and beautiful. Her eyes sparkled much more than they could’ve possibly shown in her profile photos. And there was a joy to our conversation, an openness, and freeness to how our different stories and lives spun together over the next few hours together.
I was curious about how I was sizing her up for a relationship. At first I was just fascinated by her wit, intelligence, and routine flip of her long dark hair from one side of her neck to another. I think that was a sign. Maybe it was just a tick. We leapt through conversations about exes and kids, about dating and current status.
“I’m dating this guy right now,” she said, “And I think I need to break it off.”
“Oh?”
“He’s super nice, and is really into me, but I’m not sure he’s long-term material for me.”
“Is that what you are looking for?”
“Yes, I’m a long-term girl. But it’s hard. Making someone unhappy.”
“And,” I added, “Maybe it’s hard to be alone.”
“Yes, that’s what I thought when I first got out of my marriage. And I went through a period of not wanting any sort of commitment, and I sort of played the field.”
“Wow, really. What was that like.”
“It was fun at first, but it got kind of old. There were some people I really liked and others who were just available.”
“And were there any that you really liked, who maybe wanted to move on?”
“Yes. That was hard.”
“So maybe you would rather keep this current relationship rather than risk being alone again?”
“Yes, it’s easier to have someone to do stuff with. And boys are a lot more fun to hang out with than girls.”
We smiled at one another and decided to order dinner to go with our second glass of wine.
As the evening progressed we moved through a lot of topics. Her eyes continued to sparkle. Her smiling conversational wit continued to entice me. I wasn’t sure if I was really attracted to her or fascinated by her. I was aware that her perfume was similar to a scent I had used when I was young, something from Aramis. I liked how the smell of her made me lean in a bit. I was clear that I was indulging in my own little fantasy. At the same time I was enjoying our conversation and the topics we covered. She seemed fearless in exposing and expressing herself.
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As the evening progressed we moved through a lot of topics. Her eyes continued to sparkle. Her smiling conversational wit continued to entice me.
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The same phrase kept coming through loud and clear, “while I was dating a couple people…” I’m not sure if I was turned on by that idea, repulsed by it, or intrigued about the opportunities of the evening. Well, except for the fact that she had a kid at home and we both had work in the morning. As we were considering paying and breaking off the conversation we ordered one more glass that we would split. I took this as a good sign. We were both prolonging the “date” a bit longer.
I walked her to the car wondering if she was a kisser or not. We hugged twice and she got in her Fiat 500 convertible and left.
When I got home I texted her a thank you and requested her email address so I could send her a book. It was about 11:15 and no reply came. So this morning I continued my communication and asked if she was interested in getting together again on Saturday night. Her message was clear.
Now, that was pretty clear. No rejoinder. Either she’s being coy and wants me to pursue or she’s not that interested in continuing our conversation. And in my clear way I asked if there were some point in the future when she’d like to get together again. I probably should’ve just kept quiet after that text, but I’m always one to ask for the rest of the information rather than guess.
Nothing.
Oh well, it was a nice conversation, she was a nice woman who liked to date several people at once, perhaps. And we will see if the weeks of waiting for a first date and the several hours of nice courtship has any “next steps.” But at the moment I am feeling fine with the date as it was. A nice woman, a nice Pinot, and eyes that sparkled in the romantic light of the wine bar.
I’m okay with her not being a first date kisser. (I’ve only had one of those.) I’m okay with her not being interested in “what’s next.” I’m even okay with the attraction I felt about her disclosures. It’s all new territory for me and most of us out there dating again after divorce. And I’m okay with that. We’re all just trying to figure it out. It’s a process. Onward we go with good illumination and perhaps a glass of wine.
Sincerely,
The Off Parent
@theoffparent
back to On Dating Again
related posts:
- My Casual Sex Experience – First Lesson
- Crossfit Sex
- An Early Frost: Dating Options and Casual Sex
- If Age is Just a Number Why Do I Still Want to Lie About My Age?
- 5 Early Warning Signs When Dating: Looking for Ms. Lovejoy
image: sarah at the hole in the wall, colin and sarah in norway, creative commons usage
