I had a date tonight with an old flame--the Triathlete.
He remains as enigmatic as ever. I tried really hard to make some sort of connection, but it was rather unsuccessful. He really just doesn't give me much. And that makes me try harder, which makes me feel like a jerk. I like him and I enjoy being with him, but it's basically impossible for me to feel like I can give myself over and be vulnerable with someone who is so impenetrable. I have no idea why he initiated a romantic date with me (we had a nighttime picnic on a hilltop overlooking the city and then wandered around a playground, ending up kissing on the swings.)
We didn't have an honest conversation about how things ended. We didn't really talk about anything that meant anything. I feel wholly and utterly unsatisfied, which I guess is good to know in and of itself.
Did he just want to get laid? Maybe. I'd like to think that he was curious about how I've been, cared enough to see me in person, but I'm just not sure that would be the reality of the situation.
Today kind of sucked, to be honest.
This morning I had brunch with a girlfriend--we both ate eggs while talking about freezing our eggs (really) and then she told me that J. Nich is madly in love with some blonde coffee barista. Then I had this date with the Triathlete and I was really hoping to get something...anything...out of it. But instead here I am, alone at midnight and friggin' frustrated beyond belief. Obviously, you can't tap a well that's already run dry and you can't expect emotional intimacy from someone whose track record bears no trace of that. So instead you move on...to the next well, the next guy, and you hope for the best.
And that, my friends, is the end of the story.
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