Zergnet: Simply Irresistible
Tag Archives: dating
One month back on the dating scene and I’ve gone on three dates; well, I don’t know if you can call them dates. More accurately, I’ve had dinner with three men. The first was a friend who I thought I might have feelings for. The next, with a guy I met on the subway. And the third happened last night. I walked into a restaurant to have dinner with the man who I thought was going to be my date only to discover that he had a shiny, gold wedding band on his left hand. News to me. Keep reading »
“Do you love her?” I finally asked my ex in the midst of our screaming match last late night. He paused for a minute. I could hear him breathing deeply over the phone line, slow and steady—he could have been at a yoga studio, contorted and wearing orange spandex, or practicing Lamaze breathing for the birth of his first child. Instead, he was verbally (and angrily) tracing the end of our relationship. The truth of his new relationship had been so obscured in various manipulations, that despite approaching a year of us not dating I really had no idea where “they” were.
“Yes,” he said, and my heart grew very still. Somewhere after he listed the third or fourth reason why she was better than me, I interrupted, “Stop. Just. Stop. I can’t do this with you anymore.” I hung up the phone, curled up in bed, and went to sleep. Keep reading »
It was one of my therapists who first enlightened me. “I just don’t know why I like him so much. He doesn’t feel the same way and I know it,” I managed to choke out through sobs. “What do you like about him?” she asked. Well he’s smart, funny, wacky, he travels a lot, and makes lots of money doing something he loves …” She stopped me right there and offered some life-changing feedback. “Maybe you don’t like him, maybe you just want to be him.” Keep reading »
I had a picture in my mind of how my next dating experience was going to go. I’d meet a nice guy, maybe at a friend’s house party or while we both tried to flag down the bartender at one of those speakeasy-esque bars that serves cocktails with perfectly square ice cubes. We’d exchange some witty words, some knowing smiles, and clink our glasses as we got a second round. He’d ask for my number and would call a few days later. Our first date would be during the day—maybe to a museum—followed by a dinner date the next week, if things went well. I had in my mind that, next time I got on the dating mechanical bull, I was going to take things slow and steady so I didn’t get bucked off too soon.