It’s 3 am and I can’t sleep without you next to me … actually, I think the song lyric I’m recalling is “it’s 4 am and I can’t sleep without you next to me” but what difference does an hour make?  Does it really matter?  If I remember correctly the song is by Shinedown and it’s one of those great break up songs.  It’s been playing a million and one times in my head since the last ‘good bye’ text to that guy.  For those of you who listen to That Dating Show, I co-host with Pamela Michelle you know who he is or at least may have some familiarity of who he’s not.  Who he’s not is my boyfriend.  Who he’s not is the man in my life, anymore.

We met a few years ago.  He came to my apartment to tow a car from the driveway, which I was giving away.  For whatever reason something clicked when he asked me to get into the car and step on the gas while he was behind in the tow truck.  I did not realize that at that moment I would fall for him, but fall for him I did.  I still remember what I was wearing.   I was in sweats and had no makeup on.  Not that it’s that unusual for me to be dressed down when I’m home but my point here is that I was not trying to make any sort of impression.  I was just myself.  He met me when I was at my worst, sort to speak.  I also recall I was at a really happy place in my life.  I had just moved back into my place after being displaced for several months as a result of a horrific storm.  It had been over three years since I had left a ten-year relationship and while I was not looking to meet anyone, there was something about him that was special.  It’s not that we had this great conversation that night but we connected.  He happened to noticed an Eagles air freshener in the car that was being towed and mistakenly thought I was an Eagles fan.  When he complimented me on my choice of teams I told him that the air freshener was not mine, and told him I rooted for Dallas.  My son’s friend had been driving the car, not me and I would not be held accountable for his choice of air fresheners.  Perhaps I should have known right then to stay away, his being an Eagles fan and all being that I was fully committed to the Cowboys but it was fun to banter back and forth about whose team was better.   I would later recall running inside and grabbing an Eagles Santa hat which I threw to him as he began to leave.  I had the Santa hat on hand because I had used it as a prop for photos I was taking to promote and it was not as though I had any further use for it since the holidays had passed.  That was it.  Our initial meeting which would have been nothing I would have written about in my diary, had it not been for his reaching out the following day to ask me what I out.  Not only did he ask me out, but he made it known to my niece that he was really interested in me [my niece’s boyfriend was the one I was giving the car too, so that’s how there is a connection there.] We ended up going out and having a really great time, not once but twice or maybe three times.  Then something went wrong.  I don’t remember exactly what happened.  There were a lot of texts.  He expressed how much he really liked me.  I really liked him, too.  Then for some reason things changed.  It’s not really important what happened but let’s just say I got over him.  It wasn’t easy, it never it but I did.

I moved on.  Part of what helped me move on was my connection with this guy I had known in a somewhat casual way who ended up noticing a tweet I had shared inquiring how long I should wait for a response back from my guy.  I got a DM from him and he said, “I cannot believe you would put up with this sort of stuff from guys.” We ended up connecting and he reminded me of my value and assured me that not all guys were like ‘that guy’ and told me I deserved better.  Of course, I did.  Everyone does.  Although I quasi-rebounded and developed a major probably rebound crush on this new guy it was merely a muse and a distraction but it helped to ease the pain of letting go of a man I really liked.

Fast forward two years later and here I am again wondering, “What the F*CK” is wrong with me and why am I so drawn to that guy.  You would have thought he’d be ancient history by now, and he was except this summer he came back.  He literally came back and banged on my door [he had the wrong door but my neighbors saw him knocking and pointed him in the right direction].  He did not even recognize me at first.  That’s because two years ago when he was in my life I had long blonde hair and well my hair is now brown or fifty shades of red, but it’s not the way it was when I met him.  I’ll never forget what it was like to see his face again.  It was like straight out of a movie scene.  Have you seen, The Graduate?  I mean it was as though in my mind he was screaming, “Elaine.” Talk about romantic.  We ended up walking up to the beach and then going out for a drink and once again I had one of the best nights of my life.

That was five months ago.  I’ve since seen him every once in awhile when he’s working in the area.  The reality is that I really like him.  I also love the way I am when I’m with him.  It’s natural.  There’s nothing to work on.  We just click.  He makes me laugh.  He’s funny.  The other reality is that he’s still ‘that guy’ because he’s not interested in a relationship and although he’s happy with me [his words, not mine] he just shows up when he feels like it, makes no real effort to see me, and the holidays came and went without any word from him other than texts about how he’s spending time with his family.

I have promised myself that I am letting him go.  I have to.  I will never be one of those women who can handle being with a guy who wants a casual thing and although I don’t mind being alone, in fact I cherish it, if I find someone I want to be in a relationship with that I connect with, it’s more painful to have it be a limbo sort of thing.  So here I am in the anger phase again!  Damn! You’d have thought I would know better than to get involved in one of those yo-yo, passive-aggressive, bullsh*t situations.  Only I’m not immune from the game.  I just wish I were better at it.