Taking Life with Chances

I have gone on a few dates since being single this time around and have now had two crushes. One I kind of shit the bed on and never acted on. The other, I went up, asked about grabbing coffee, and we exchanged numbers.

I like the idea of dating. Going out on actual dates, though, I am finding isn’t all that enjoyable.

A month ago, I met someone at the dog park. He and his dog would join Chance and me on our walks, even when I had my earbuds in, which I really thought was the universal sign for “leave me alone.” Not everyone views it that way.

After a few of these walks, we exchanged numbers. Truthfully, I wasn’t physically attracted to him, but one of the things I’ve realized about myself is that I’m much more drawn to someone’s personality than their looks. I’ve found I can become attracted to someone because of who they are more than what they look like physically.

I realized pretty quickly there wasn’t going to be a spark on my end. It was a lot of texts that didn’t really go anywhere, and when we hung out once outside of the dog park, the conversation lacked depth. It stayed very surface level, with little back and forth.

I let that die organically.

Feeling proud that I didn’t try to force something just to have a warm body around. Something I may have done before. I recognized that good banter and conversation are important to me, and that I enjoy someone asking about me and my experiences too.

It is funny the things that I miss about being in a relationship. A hand to hold when curled up on the couch watching a movie. A dance in the kitchen while making Sunday breakfast. Falling asleep in someone’s arms.

All the crap that leads up to those moments, though? I’d love to skip over it. The awkward dates. The conversations that sometimes feel like nothing but small talk.

Why can’t I just get to the fun parts? Making out first thing in the morning, morning breath and all. Not being embarrassed about getting naked with someone for the first time.

I miss when one-night stands were easy…and I definitely miss my 25-year-old body, with the confidence to live a little more like a dude. Now, with boobs that sag a bit and a stomach that, as my friend puts it, looks like a “strockum” in certain positions, my confidence to even fill that need is lacking.

And while I shit the bed on pursuing the first crush a bit more, I didn’t force the random meeting just to fill the void, and now that I have passed my number on to the second crush, I am doing everything in my power not to sit and watch for a text from them.

Why is it all so complicated?

Maybe that’s why I’ve been thinking so much about my past relationships lately.

One of the questions I keep coming back to is, “What am I attracted to?”

I don’t think I have a type.

I think I have a pattern.

I’m a romantic. I fall for people pretty fast. I trust what I’m told, I get very googly-eyed, and before I know it, I’m picturing the future a partner is painting.

I see the house we’ve bought. The life we’re building there. The road trips. The little everyday moments.

Those pictures consume me.

And while I genuinely love that part of myself, I’m not sure how not to get wrapped up in it. When a relationship doesn’t pan out the way I thought it would, the gut punch is huge.

I’m starting to realize that when a relationship ends, I’m not just mourning the person. I’m mourning the plans we’d made, the future I’d already started imagining, and the life I thought we were building together.

That realization isn’t easy for me to swallow.

I’ve always believed the love I was feeling was for the person. Now I’m starting to wonder how much of it was also for the possibility of the life we were creating together.

Maybe that’s why breakups have always hit me so hard.

Maybe I’m not just grieving the relationship.

Maybe I’m grieving a future that never had the chance to exist.