Forty-two is a little out of my usual dating range, but he seemed like my type. This was my first date from an online service. He drove 2.5 hours to have lunch with me. I wasn’t sure if that was normal. We met at an Indian Restaurant. It was cozy, quiet and the lighting was dim. We had talked music over the phone. Music was his main interest.
He said I looked just like my picture and asked if I thought he did too. I said, “Yeah, I guess.” But, he didn’t. The pictures were taken when he was tan and happy with himself. An industrial engineer was his profession, but he was working on his family’s small business of renting summer cabins in nowheresville.
He wanted to know what I was looking for?
“Nothing. I’m not looking for anything.” Hearing the words out of my mouth even surprised myself.
I wasn’t looking for anything, not anything specific. I was seeing what the world had to offer me. There are many possible outcomes for my life, various life styles to be enjoyed. Unhappiness comes from wanting your life different. I already had happiness: things are what they are.
He wanted a companion but nothing serious now because he wasn’t sure if he wanted kids anymore. He was married once, he wanted to find that again.
He married in his 20s and divorced in his early 30s. Divorced because she cheated on him with one of their close friends. The tale was told with a practiced pout that surely wins record amounts of sympathy with other women. He continued: it wasn’t all her fault; he had made mistakes in the relationship too (blame yourself – check).
I said, “I bet you’ve had to tell that story a lot.”
I felt guilty he had driven so far. But, he didn’t mind the drive. It was about the same as the two hours he drove yesterday to meet a friend, which I suspect wasn’t a friend. I paid for lunch and took him to a historical/art museum.
As I handed my debit card to the waiter, The 42 Year Old said, “This has never happened before.” How sad. I imagine he has traveled thousands of miles meeting women, searching, telling his heavy-hearted story. It’s a shame we can’t wipe the slate clean – make a fresh start.
We walked around the antiques, paintings and sculptures. He kept intentionally bumping into me, but I didn’t find it charming since he was 6 foot 3. I dodged a kiss when we said good-bye. He got me on the cheek instead of the lips.
The 42 Year Old removed his profile shortly after. It makes me wonder what I’m really looking for on a dating site, Facebook or a blog. Am I searching for real connections? Or, am I just here to share my melancholy stories with strangers?