Date 1

10:42 am

I'm sorry I haven't been in touch lately. I've been thinking of the best way to tell you, and I've decided honesty is best. I am just not interested. I'm sorry.

Heart stops. Not the text I expect to see so early on a Sunday. JD is not interested. No shocker there, considering he'd been ignoring me for the past week. Granted, I did not over-communicate, but I know when I'm being ignored. Naïve as I am, if nothing else, I know my place.

***
A week earlier

Sunday, Date 1:

We are leaving the theater, having just watched some Amy Schumer movie that is completely inappropriate for a first date, and headed across the street for dinner.

First impression: JD is cute, and slimmer than I'd imagined. He's polite, offering me snacks and asking where I'd like to sit to ensure I was "comfortable and in good view of the screen".

After movie impression: He has THE. MOST. GORGEOUS. green eyes I've ever had the pleasure to look upon. I thought they were nice INDOORS. Lord, did they shine when the sunlight reflected off of them OUTDOORS.

At dinner, I strategically placed myself towards the window, so that he could sit facing the sunlight. I wanted to have every chance possible to catch the light reflecting off his eyes. I like eyes, if you hadn't noticed.

Dinner went well. We talked non-stop, easy flow, no awkwardness. He offered to pay, as did I.

He texted me later that night to make sure I'd made it home safely, and to invite me out for the following night to celebrate his birthday. Now to some people, this is no big deal. To obsessive people like myself, this was a HUGE deal. Birthdays are a big thing for me. They always have been (minus my 25th, but that's for a later date). Birthdays are supposed to be spent with family and friends. People you love. JD wanting to spend his birthday with me was a sign that he must have really liked our first date.

Naturally, I agreed and we went out again the following day.

New beginnings

Summer time is always a great time for me. My birthday. My parents' birthdays. A break from school. Tan lines. Water. Fun.


Months have gone by and Steven barely graces my subconscious. I am so happy with the way things have changed.


I accepted a job offer at a new(ish) school, as a third grade teacher. I'll be teaching in Spanish, which on its own is a BIG deal. I have only ever taught in English, so this is a great opportunity for me to step out of my comfort zone, to push myself in a new direction and to strive for more.


I've, also, started talking to someone new- JD.  I met JD online through eHarmony. I've had this dang profile for over a year, and JD is the first guy I think I may actually get together with and meet.


He's a sweet guy. A year older. New to my town. A teacher, also.


We talk all day long, and get along great through text and phone calls. Yes. Phone calls. JD is one of those few specimens in the human world that likes talking on the phone, and while I know I shouldn't, I compare him. To Steven. To Mark. To every guy I've ever dated. Thinking solely on Steven, JD is a major upgrade, already. He makes me laugh, and doesn't make me feel bad about myself. Major plus.

7:24 pm
Hey:) Wanna get together Sunday night? We could go to a movie and get some dinner after?




And so onto new beginnings:)

Obsessive

Obsessive. Remember I said that I was obsessive? I keep replaying the last few conversations I had with Steven. I HAVE to find fault in myself. What did I do? What did I say? What could I have done to make him stay?


I cannot accept that this decision had nothing to do with me. He kindly gave me the "out" I needed to heal and move on, but I couldn't. I am not satisfied knowing that "it was him, not me". I. NEED. to know.


Steven called me. Once. After he broke up with me. I didn't answer. I didn't know what to say to him. I didn't know if I COULD say anything to him.


So I obsessed.


I should have answered.
What did he want to tell me?
Why didn't I call him back?
What could he have had to say to me that would have made this any better?
What would I have said to him?
Could I have spoken to him without crying? Without sounding bitter?
Will he call again?
Why did he call in the first place?
Why didn't I answer?


Over and over again.


I stay off of Facebook as much as possible, so that I am not tempted to check his profile- see who he's with, who he's talking to, how happy he is without me.


I, literally, have to keep track of the days, like an addict in recovery. I have gone 24 hours without checking on him. 36. 54. Eventually, I lose track of the days, and I am no longer plagued by the need to know how he's doing.


I want to know that he's ok.


I want to know that he is fine without me.


Why?

That's beyond me.