Falling in with the Feelings

“You’ll have to give me a minute to collect myself,” my date said. “You talk for a bit—I’m too distracted.”

This was the most fun I’d had all day.

Earlier that day I’d made a decision: I was not going to let my physical pain dictate how I was going to show up for my Zoom date. I took a shower early enough so my hair could dry and I could curl it (holding the blow dryer is too aggravating for my neck muscles as of yet), and I put on some lipstick, eyeshadow, and eyeliner. I didn’t make it to the mascara before my occipital nerves said, “Enough!” but it was more than I’d done in a long time . . . at least since June, or before, when the muscles on the right side of my body tightened.

Even with that laundry list of physical pain and symptoms the last 50 days (see previous post, In the Wake of What Is), the woman I am dating has walked with me through all of it. At first I was concerned she was codependent, then perhaps crazy, but now I am starting to believe it is because she truly cares enough to continue.

And yes, she does have a name, but I have conceded to wait until we meet to say it. Oh . . . did I leave that part out? Perhaps on purpose.

“What, you couldn’t find someone at least in the same state?” my friend quipped a few days ago when I told him.

“No,” I said, feeling somewhat scolded.

Truth be told I probably could have, and since we technically aren’t committed (that comes during months 4-6 on the dating plan), I have wondered if I’m supposed to keep looking. But I haven’t been in charge of this thing from the beginning, so why start now? Plus my sponsor is adamant every time I ask about it.

“No,” she says. Full stop. And I laugh because I feel relieved.

Usually I leave it at that, but this last time I was feeling particularly testy. I prodded her to explain further, and she acquiesced.

“For the past 4 years all you’ve wanted is more time with her. You have always spoken about her with such love and respect.”

It’s so interesting—I do remember the “wanting more time” bit. When we were friends, I always felt irritated she had other things to do besides talk with me. Ha. Of course I still have my doubts and “what if” fears. But when we started dating three months ago, that fear-doubt cup was 80% full. Now it’s hovering at about 20%. The cup seems to have a hole in it.

And there’s something about a connection built on emotional sobriety, as if we are laying a solid foundation and going through a construction period before letting each other in. As I mentioned before (see previous post, The Designation of a Date), I used to do it the exact opposite—depend on the architecture of others to create something that pleased them, which I could then show off in turn. This new way feels sacred, as if we are designing a space for trust inside the catacombs of our hearts.

“Ok,” my date said after a few minutes, “I’m ready,” her fidgeting complete.

And it’s then—when I see her beautiful smile, she sits with me in conversation, we listen to each other, exchange G-rated jokes, and talk about recovery—those cup percentages shift a little more. It’s then that I know all I need to, for today.

P.S. We meet in 6 weeks . . . soon.