End of a Flirt Era, a Zap of Loneliness

Even when I made the car appointment, I felt a little off, like I would be wrong to expect this trip to be another round of “if onlys” from Cute Car Place Guy. I felt off, ashamed, exposed—all emotions too dramatic for an errand. Driving in Monday morning, to get the oil change done and have them check the weird noise the heater’s (I mistyped “heart’s) making, I had such a sad feeling. Shame mixed with loss and sleepiness. The heater had been making a noise, but of course it wasn’t that morning!

It was the first time in years that I didn’t see Cute Car Place Guy smiling and beckoning me to pull in. He was nowhere to be seen and they assigned Valentine and me to the new guy, who was admittedly also cute. I felt like I’d been found out, like I’d gotten in trouble.

When CCPG DID appear, he called me by my given name, which is not the name I go by. Nothing like realizing I’m not a main character (Of course I’m not!) in this person’s life, or even a guest star! We got a chance to chat as we usually do, though. He always starts with “Staying out of trouble?” and of course I have been, a little too much lately!

It turns out, he has separated from his wife, the wife he’s been complaining to me about for years. Typing that makes me realize it’s actually pretty reasonable to feel a bunch of shame about this! I’ll change that to “remorse” but still! We’ve been hitting on each other for like five years of his marriage! Gross!

Then, it felt for the rest of my wait like he was avoiding me and like I should be avoiding him. I felt too loud and very not-charming. When I got the too-high bill, I wondered what was wrong with me that I’ve been having the car serviced at the dealership for almost ten years?! There’s a perfectly good and less-expensive place so much closer to home!

I’m kind of committed to the whole Boyfriend Material thing, and this guy is not, and could never be, the right one. The whole vibe is just…gone, and that’s probably a good thing.

It makes me sad. It was a kind of love, him looking after Valentine and me, being there with the discounts (Were they, though?) and almost always game to ruffle my feathers and buoy my spirits a little bit. Sometimes even bringing up the original ask-out/thank you note I sent him in…2019? Something like that?

Is it because of Luke Daines that I associate car-care with affection? Remember when he replaced like ALL the insides of Lorelai’s Jeep so she could keep the original body?

One of the cute guys at work offered to install a new heater motor for me (On top of all this, the sound still sounds!) so I’m currently squeeing and overthinking about that! The idea of handing him my keys fills me with fizzy forbidden bubbles.

Anyway, the end of a flirt era—what do I do with this? When a relationship ends, there’s a protocol, pictures to scroll through. A playlist I’ve been curating my whole life! I guess what I do is write this blog post and feel sad and lonely for a while.

I stand by my earlier-this week sanguine magnanimity, but for a few days I’m just kinda freaking out. I think the CCPG fantasy filled a bigger need than I thought it did. I think I held out a stronger hope that it was a slow-burn meet-cute than I wanted to admit to. I’m afraid there’s just NO ONE, that this dating slump will collide with age 50 this coming year and I will never touch a man again!

At the same time, letting go of what isn’t, recognizing where I really am and what I really want, makes room for the right things to happen. The open door of new possibility does feel a little bit good.

Goth Synchronicity and a Hot First Date

Last weekend, I was lounging on the (regular) beach with Rainbow Pal when they asked, “So did you and (The Song Sender) bond over it being Kate Bush Summer?”

Not really—it’s hard to believe that TSS lives in the same universe with something as sweet and sincere as Stranger Things. I had to admit, too, that for TSS Part Two, (Electric Boogaloo), I was the only one sending songs. Supersigh.

Then, THE NEXT DAY, in just the same shoulda-wished-for-a million-dollars way that The Song Sender had appeared in real life after my subby-nostalgia convo with Rainbow Pal at the beginning of the summer, I found myself sitting beside the river at night making a new playlist on a first date!

I wasn’t even sure I was ready to try someone new. I was still mopey/traumatized about The Song Sender and I’m still processing all the goodness with The Shy One. Still, I was charmed that this nice elder millennial had picked an out-in-the-world date instead of a couch one, and that his username was another word for spiritual joy, so I picked out an outfit and rallied. So glad I did.

He met me at my favorite bridge and was, like most people are, cuter than his profile picture. A little shorter than me, with dark hair and those fluffy eyelashes I can never resist. Columbian, he’d tell me later. He was wearing a shirt that said “Mordor”—you know I can’t resist the grumpy boys.

The walking and talking and playlist-making were PERFECT. I mean, other than having to hear boy-opinions about Captain Marvel. I thought it was so cute when he ruled out The Smiths from our playlist, since Morrissey grew up to be a nightmare.

But the best part was when we sat in my car a moment to say goodnight. This is usually when I would bring a first date home, but I had to get up early Monday morning. I had assumed I was going to dominate him, but he turned out to be a wonderful instigator. He started with a firm former-massage-therapist (!) touch on my arm, asking how to care for my tricky right arm during d/s situations.

Then he was all like “But you want it here, don’t you,” then went for the back of my neck, where the sub switch is!

He kissed me so insistently that I thought I would never get away, never stop, never sleep that night or any night. He was so powerfully in charge that it took me SEVERAL ardent tries to pry myself away and say goodnight. Not sure what happens next, but WHOA what a first date.