Swimming

I spent two days on Match.cm before deleting my profile. The main problem is that I recognized about three people I knew, and that was just weird — one of the guys I’d actually been on a date with before (we’d met in a bar, natch), and it was the most excruciating four hours of my life. We went for sushi and wound up watching “Wolf” at my house, because it was one of those free crappy movies on OnDemand. Anyway, when he messaged me on Match, I knew I was probably in the wrong place. Actually, I think I’m just in the wrong place when it comes to geography — if I were back in Chicago, living in a bigger city with more prospects, I think it would be a different story.

And, weirdly enough, I might have met someone. Well, not met, but reconsidered someone I’ve known for about a month. Remember the bigoted jerk I made out with in Indianapolis last month? Well, Z is his friend, someone I actually ended up enjoying more by the end of the trip than anyone else I’d spent it with. We ran into each other last weekend and I, shot through with courage by a couple vodka tonics, confessed I had thought about him since then, and maybe we could hang out sometime?

He smiled, told me the move was “ballsy,” and we did end up hanging out with a few of my friends the next night. We haven’t kissed yet. We’ve just hugged hello and goodbye, admitted a mutual crush on the other and talked on the phone. Actual talking! Not texting (although there’s a little of that) or e-mailing! How revolutionary.

I suppose it’s more friendship than anything, which feels awesome to me. Taking it slow feels absolutely how things SHOULD feel when you are learning about someone you could like.
And I could get this all wrong. He could turn out to be incredibly immature, or nothing special or a slew of other horrible adjectives I tend to convince myself are good for me.

But I’ve given nothing up yet. So far, I’ve got that going for me.