I went on a date. Kinda. It has been a while. It has become second nature to shoo propositions away with my busy schedule. Jaded. Perpetually unimpressed, I disqualify potential suiters at their hello. This individual found me buried beneath a mountain of copying in the Mcgill copy room as I prepared my readings for the semester. He came back and asked me to join him for dinner. I was too busy. He messaged me the next day. I was too busy. And again the next. I finally acquiesced.  Tonight. Sitting on my gross dirty floor chipping away at the intolerable sticky tile amidst disorganization only excusable for a clinical hoarder, I answered sure. I was tired. My hair should have been washed and make-up reapplied, perhaps a better outfit even. I left my place with a screw it attitude, not caring to impress. I am too tired to impress. 

I have the ability to meet some incredibly interesting people. My world could not be more different than the world’s of the vast majority of men I attract into my life. I have never known privilege until I moved to Montreal. I’ve dated men whose childhood memories included only flying in their private jet and ancient terra-cotta army pieces in their summer home. Ambassador upon Ambassador’s sons- I’ve dated three now. I’ve turned down (very premature) marriage proposals and opportunities to be with individuals whose night out with the guys means amateur racing night at the ferrari club. 

I’m not sure where I am going with this. I guess I am perhaps frustrated with myself. Concerned that I may be making big life mistakes by not opening my life more. Is this a simple status issue? Having learned that this incredibly accomplished young man, kind, and generous and funny grew up privileged, scares me.  I have already subconsciously ruled him out from being someone I will likely see again. The unemployed, addicted, and troubled-that’s who I comfortably return to for friendship. 

It’s been a few days since I’ve written this. And I really don’t have anything to add. I wasn’t ever planning opening up the relational aspect of my life, partly because I didn’t want to hurt my ex husband incase he fell upon this...which in itself is ridiculous I guess. My need to protect and continually care for people who have never reciprocated is another issue for another time I guess... that group also fits the stereotype of who I find myself most aligned too... Oh, like Freud, I shall blame my mom. 

well until next time... ciao