Dearest R.,

Okay where was I with my story about MMRFRO?

Much to my surprise, I got a call from D. a couple of weeks after our initial meeting. He left a voice mail for me one Friday evening while I was having dinner with my friend J. Saying he’d be interested in getting together over the weekend if I wasn’t busy and interested. No pressure. And while I found the statement of “no pressure” to be rather odd, I sent him a return VM message through the system (as we were both on the same cell carrier) that I’d be interested in getting together and suggested we touch base at some point over the weekend. We did and on the following Sunday agreed to meet at Ballston Mall around 5 to have dinner and see Vicky Cristina Barcelona.

After waiting nearly twenty minutes past the hour of our agreed rendezvous time, and nearly getting ready to leave assuming he was blowing me off, I saw him round the corner of the area leading to the movie theater and head toward me with a rather sheepish look on his face.

“I’m sorry,” he offered, “Time has a way of getting away from me.”

“No worries,” I replied hiding my annoyance, “I have the same problem.” He followed with “Let’s get our tickets?” as he pointed toward the serpentine ropes leading to the ticket booths.

“Sure.” I said turning to move toward the ropes.

There was no line so we skipped winding our way through the maze of red velvet and chrome and made our way to the open ticket window. He touched me lightly on the shoulder and said, “Let me pay for the tickets. It’s the least I can do for making you wait.”

“Sure.” I said, “I can always buy dinner.”

After getting our tickets he suggested Vapiano an Italian Restaurant on a nearby corner. I mentioned that sounded good to me as I’d not had a chance to eat there since the restaurant opened a year before. We spent an hour plus at dinner discussing everything from the psychology of creativity and symbolism to current pop music. As we finished our meal and headed back to the movie theater the voice of the little part of me that already had become smitten with him said, “Wow. This guy is really cool. Not only is he cute, he’s smart and creative.”

As we made our way out of the movie theater into the mall after the movie,  I asked him where his car was park. He mentioned it was parked nearby on the street. I said that I would walk him to his car and did. When we got to his car as we were saying good bye, I opened my arms to inquire as to whether he wanted a hug. He opened his arms and I grabbed him and said, “If you ever wish to do it again. Please let me know.”

“Sure,” he said, “I’ll be traveling a bit soon. But maybe we can.”

He made his way around his car and as he was opening the driver’s side door I said, “It was very nice to see you D.”

He blushed and said, “It was nice to see you as well.” as I turned to walk away. “I hope to see you again soon.” I said as I waved and started on my way.

As the months went by, we began to see each other and exchange emails with greater frequency. However, I began to notice a pattern with him that I’d noticed develop with so many other guys as well. While it seemed we really connected via email, whenever we were together in person he seemed uncomfortable and had a great deal of difficulty communicating. And while that concerned me a little bit, each time we got together it felt so good to be with him it didn’t concern me so much. Each time we said good-bye, I couldn’t wait for the moment to see him again or talk with him.

As we became more and more entangled with each other, it became clear to me he really was not all the person he attempted to portray himself to be. He was yet another one of the guys who was really great with talk, but had a difficult time walking it. That he was someone who is very good at pointing out the unattractive things he sees in others, but has little desire to take a long hard look in the mirror and work on the similar issues in himself.

Of course, I knew the cause of the aforementioned attitudes, but it didn’t make it any less disappointing to see them. The most disappointing of all to realize that he was yet another in a long line of guys I’d met who chooses to be a victim rather than understand his part in creating the circumstance in which he finds himself. I have little ability to tolerance those who cop the “I’m a victim.” attitude.

And as was destined to happen, our developing relationship imploded on itself before it had a moment to establish itself and blossom.

My heart continues to ache for him.

Sending you much love!