Dating Dilemma

by Brownell, Rachael

  "I don't have time. I'm only contracted for a year. It would be stupid to get involved with anyone when I know it'll have to end," I reply, sharing my excuses with Abby even though I know she won’t accept them as an answer.

  "Basically, you're saying that you were falling for him and it scared the shit out of you."

  "What I said and what you heard are two completely different things."

  She's always been great at reading me, stripping away my bullshit, and getting to the real root of the problem. That doesn't mean I want to hear it right now. I'm very aware of the fact that I practically ran away from him and how I was feeling for him.

  They say sex changes things. Whoever "they" are was right. It does change things. Sometimes it makes things better. Other times it makes things worse. In this case, it makes things complicated. It makes me feel like a whore, which I know I'm not. I've never been promiscuous, and I never will be. Kyle was only the third person I was ever with, the other two being stupid mistakes with people I thought were worth it. At least I was in relationships the other two times. Failed relationships, but still.

  "Explain it to me, then. Because as far as I can tell, you like him, and even if it was only for a year, you could have fun and a chance at being happy while you're here. If nothing else, you could get some action."

  Turning to shoot daggers at her, I find Abby waggling her eyebrows at me from beneath her oversized sunglasses. She's trying to lighten the mood and get me to talk. I appreciate it, especially since I can feel my blood starting to boil.

  This is why she's here.

  She's my best friend.

  She only wants to help.

  As long as I keep reminding myself of those facts, I won’t kill her. Taking a calming breath, I relax back into the chair, pull my sunglasses down, and close my eyes, letting the conversation die for now. It’s far from over. I haven’t answered Abby, and she won’t let up until I do.

  15

  Lauren

  Talking in circles isn't as much fun as it sounds.

  Abby claims I'm overreacting to the situation. I counter with sex being a serious situation and I have every right to react how I see fit. She agrees, then turns on me again, saying that I'm scared to be involved in a relationship that could in any way be remotely serious.

  Checkmate.

  She's right. I am scared.

  I've never been in a serious relationship. I don't know how to be. I'm not even sure I want to be. After all the Dear Maggie questions I've read lately, relationships are hard. Something is always causing a conflict, and I don't need that in my life. I want simple.

  "Is this about your ten-year plan?" she finally asks as we're about to sit down for a late dinner.

  "Of course it is," I reply, exhausted from fighting her.

  "You do realize that your plan is flawed, right?"

  "No, it's not. There's a clear path, and as long as I follow it, I'll get where I want to be."

  "You want to be a thirty-three-year-old single woman?"

  "That's not what I meant."

  "That's what I'm saying. You see nothing beyond the job you want and how you're going to get there. Life is more than a career. It's about finding the one person you're meant to spend your life with. Starting a family. Maybe Kyle's not the one, but you'll never know unless you give him a shot."

  "He's not—"

  "Listen. I'm going to say one last thing, and then we're going to pick a movie to watch. It’s girls’ night, with popcorn and a chick flick. Deal?"

  "What?" I ask, skeptical that she'll ever actually drop the subject.

  "You like him. He likes you. I haven't met him, but he seems mentally stable and a genuinely nice guy from what you've told me. You may not think he's the one, but he can be Mr. Right Now if you let him. If you don't, you'll never know if he's the one or not. And, just for the record, if you don't give him a chance, why would you give anyone else a chance down the road? This is your opportunity to not be a single cat lady in ten years."

  "Are you done?" I ask, rolling my eyes as I take a bit of the frozen pizza she burnt, wrinkling my nose when the charred flavor hits my tongue.

  "Yes."

  "Good, because you know I hate cats," I joke, her words still at the forefront of my mind.

  Unfortunately, she has a good point. I'm crossing him off the list before I even give him the chance of being on it. Maybe I did overreact, but it was for good reason. At least, at the time it was in my mind.

  He may not be the one I spend the rest of my life with, but that doesn't mean I can't see where things go. It's only been a week. He might still call. I told him I needed time, and I plan to take a little more. If I don't hear from him next week, I'll call. Not a moment sooner.

  Movie night turns into Abby snoring on my shoulder. After I wake her and force her to go to bed, I break out my laptop and finish my column. With my perspective on life a little clearer, I'm hoping my advice for this woman doesn't sound as jaded as the three drafts I wrote earlier. Once I'm confident with my response, I forward it to Mr. Phelps with a thank you for the additional time to complete the column.

  Abby and I spend Saturday down by the water talking about life in general, avoiding the topic of Kyle altogether. The warmth of the sun lulls me to sleep after a few hours, and when I wake up, Abby is nowhere to be found. Looking back toward the cabin, I see her on the porch, pacing back and forth with her phone to her ear. She must be talking to John, checking in on him and the baby.

  This is the first time she's been away from them for more than a night since Johnny was born. She would come to see me at school before I graduated, but it was always only for one night. So when she told me she bought a plane ticket to come see me, I was surprised.

  Waving frantically, she smiles and steps inside the cabin. When she emerges a few minutes later, she's carrying a fresh towel, two diet sodas, and a bag of chips.

  "Lunch?" she asks, handing me the chips and placing everything else on the table between us.

  "This isn't lunch, Abby. This is a snack. A shitty snack."

  "Well aren't we grouchy this afternoon. You know what you need?"

  "What's that?" I ask, knowing I'm going to regret it the minute she smiles at me.

  "Sex. Lots and lots of sex. Sex always makes my bad mood disappear."

  "Oh, yes. I should get on that right away. Wait," I say, looking around at the empty beach, "there's no one here but us. I guess it's not going to happen today. Oh well!"

  "You're such a smartass."

  "Mama always said it was better than being a dumb ass."

  "You haven't told her about Kyle, have you?"

  "Why would I? How would I? Hey, Mom. Just wanted to let you know I had a one-night stand. I thought you would be proud. Oh, and I actually like the guy, which makes me an idiot."

  "Sounds about right. I can see your mom's face, too. She's pointing her finger at your chest and shaking her head, just like when you got in trouble when we were younger."

  Abby's laughter is contagious. My mom has one of those looks. You know when she's pissed off, sad, angry, disappointed, you name it. No matter what, she always shakes her head while she talks, dishing out your punishment.

  "You should call him," Abby finally says, shoving a few chips in her mouth.

  "Nah. He's probably forgotten all about me by now. I'll call him next week if I don't hear from him. I'm the one that asked for time, you know. If nothing else, I need to apologize to him for bringing drama into his life. He was just getting over his breakup, and I probably made it worse."

  "I doubt that," she mumbles.

  "As if you know so much. You've never even met him."

  "Don't need to. If you like him, he's good enough in my book. You're picky as hell when it comes to men, and women for that matter. I'm surprised you haven't ditched me yet. I'm far from the perfect mold you want everyone to fit into."

  Her words strike deep, causing me to suck in my breath and hold it for a second so I don't say somet
hing I'll later regret. Once I'm confident I can respond without biting her head off, I let it out and close my eyes.

  "I don't want or need perfect in my life, Abby. I just don't need the opposite of it. I don't need the drama. I like to know what I'm getting into. I'm picky because I don't want to start relationships just to have more friends when I know they won't last more than a few weeks or months. It's called being smart, keeping my circle small and intimate."

  "Intimate, huh?"

  "Yes, why?"

  "Your circle consists of me and you right now. The one person that's tried to step inside of it got shoved out against his will. I would say your circle is more of a straight line, from me to you and back again."

  Why is she being like this? Sure, she's great at giving tough love, but this is a bit much. Even for her. As much as I love her, if this is what she’s going to be like the rest of her visit, I’d rather take her back to the airport right now. I didn’t sign up for this.

  This was supposed to be a fun weekend. Just the two of us. She was helping me figure shit out, not giving me shit for making a decision she didn’t agree with. When did her opinion become the only opinion? Why am I, all of a sudden, not allowed to make my own choices in life?

  Taking a calming breath, I let it out slowly and clear my mind of all the negative thoughts. We only have one more day together. Let’s make it a good day. No more talk of Kyle or sex or relationships. We need to move past it. Nothing is getting accomplished anyway.

  "Let's talk about something else, okay?" I suggest, hoping to bring peace between us and willing my anger to go away.

  "Sure. How about the conversation I just had with Kyle?"

  Dear Maggie,

  * * *

  I was dumped HARD about eight months ago. It came as a huge surprise, especially when he told me he was in love with someone else. I put on a front, wished him the best of luck and did everything I could to move on with my life. At first, things were bad. I lost almost twenty pounds, stopped leaving the house unless it was necessary, and cried myself to sleep most nights. It took a while, but with the help of some amazing friends, I'm finally back on track. Then, a few weeks ago, he started texting me. I didn't respond to the first few, but last night I finally answered him. All he asked was how I was doing, if I was okay. I told him the truth, and I actually feel better about where I am, but then he asked if I wanted to meet up for coffee later this week. What does this mean? Is he regretting his decision? Does he want me back? I'm so confused.

  * * *

  ~Serena

  Serena,

  * * *

  It sounds to me like he finally realized he made a mistake by letting you go. If I were you, I'd stay far away from him. Distance yourself. You're doing great, and you don't want to go through that all over again the next time he thinks he's in love with someone else. He shouldn't get a second chance to prove himself to you. If he loved you the first time, you would still be together.

  * * *

  ~Maggie

  16

  Lauren

  Anger seethed through every bone in my body when her words registered. She called him. She spoke to him. She overstepped her the boundaries of friendship. My number one rule with her has always been to respect my privacy. My relationship with Kyle was private, just between the two of us, until she leaped over the threshold.

  Her conversation with Kyle was intense, from the little bit I actually heard. I was focused on ways to kill her and dump her in the water for the first few minutes. She basically told him that she was on his side, about all my past "relationships," and the two men I had been with. She tried to explain why I reacted the way I did. In the end, she said he understood, but I'm not sure I really believe it. If he understood, why hasn't he called me?

  After that, Abby's trip couldn't end soon enough. Once she confessed to stealing my phone and calling Kyle while I was sleeping, I almost packed her up and shipped her back home. Apparently, I was asleep for longer than I thought because they were on the phone the entire time. When I was waving at her on the porch, she was actually talking to Kyle, not her husband.

  I gave her the opportunity to apologize for meddling in my personal business. When she laughed at my suggestion, I stopped talking to her. It was a long fourteen hours of silence before I dropped her off at the airport.

  There was no hugging. I never even got out of the car. I dropped her in front of the arrivals sign for Delta and drove away when I was almost certain I wouldn't run over her foot. When I checked the rear-view mirror, she was waving at me, a huge smile on her face.

  Smug bitch.

  With Abby gone, I can get back to life as usual. Wake up early, go to work, eat dinner alone, and sleep. Repeat. Write my column and focus on my career. Keep my eyes on the prize. Two more weeks, four more columns, and then I get to write something I'm more passionate about. Actual news stories. Real research. I can explore the community I live in and find the unsung heroes. I’ll be able to write about things that make me smile.

  Currently, I'm stuck writing about love. Somethings that's always been a source of uncertainty and disappointment for me. I've tried to allow myself to fall for the men I've "dated," if you can call it that. There was always something. They were too attractive, or not attractive enough. Too into sports, or science, or themselves. I always found a reason to let the relationship fade away.

  They caught on quick, thankfully. I've never had to push them too hard to break it off. Most of the time, they saw it coming. All of them except the last one. He tried to hang on, even when I told him I was moving across the country. He asked to come with me. He was too clingy; that was his problem. He wanted to spend every free moment together, and that's the opposite of what I needed.

  There's a good reason I'm opposed to starting a relationship, and Abby knows that. It's not the right time for me. There are other places I want to explore, things I want to do before I get tied down for the rest of my life.

  Sitting in my apartment on Tuesday night, I think back on all the conversations Abby and I had before I stopped talking to her this past weekend. She had so many valid points.

  I like him.

  I was falling for him, and it scared me.

  Sex always has a way of sending me running.

  I'm scared of the unknown.

  Even if it's only for a year, I could be happy.

  My heartbeat accelerates just thinking about him. It does every time. I swear I felt him at lunch today. I went to the park and found a new food truck. Food has become an obsession. I'm feeding my broken heart. The one I broke.

  Picking up my phone, I dial his number. Before I hit send, I say a small prayer he'll answer and be as understanding and forgiving as Abby claimed he would be.

  This is my one chance to right the wrong I created.

  I need to pull up my big girl panties and apologize for freaking out.

  I can do this. One step at a time.

  All I have to do is push send. The little green button on my screen that looks like a phone.

  Tossing my phone on the couch next to me, I suck in a deep breath and let it out slowly. I'm not ready to talk to him. I want to. I need to. It's going to drive me crazy until I do, but I'm not strong enough.

  My world is upside down right now.

  Abby and I aren't talking. Kyle and I aren't talking. I have two more weeks of pretending to be someone I'm not, which is starting to stress me out.

  "Why can't my life be normal?" I scream.

  No one is here to answer.

  Time to do what I do best. Make a list. It's my version of the pro versus con list I used to see girls make in high school. I call it my love and life list. The love column has a list of all the things I could have with Kyle. The life column will have a list of all the things I can have if I focus on my life.

  * * *

  Life

  Freedom to travel

  Opportunity to focus on my career

  Ability to pick up and move

 
* * *

  Love

  Sex. Lots and lots of amazing sex.

  Laughter.

  Sharing dinner with someone else.

  Dancing. He promised to teach me to dance.

  Awkward conversations with someone other than Abby.

  Sex.

  Companionship.

  * * *

  In the past, the life column has always blown away the love column. No contest.

  It only takes me a minute to see how things are shaping up. The love column is blowing life away. Staring at them for a few minutes, I draw a big X across the page and rip it from my notebook.

  I don't need a list to tell me what I want. I don't need a list to help me see what the right decision is. All I need is to listen to my heart. My heart is telling me to fix this thing I broke. To give myself a chance at being happy. To apologize to all the people I've hurt recently.

  First up... Abby.

  "Hey, bitch," she answers, laughing loudly. "Two days, huh? I figured you wouldn't call until at least tomorrow."

  Well, this should be easy. As for Kyle, that may take me a few days before I can figure out what to say.

  Dear Maggie,

  * * *

  My boyfriend has been acting distant and secretive lately. Every time I ask him if something is wrong, he changes the subject. When he was over the other day, he was completely focused on his phone, texting with someone and ignoring me. Since we share an account, I went and searched his phone and text history on our bill. There are a bunch of numbers I don't recognize, one that he frequently calls and texts. I called it the other day from a friend’s phone, and a girl answered. In my mind, this means he's cheating on me. Is there any other explanation? I'm going to ask him about it, about her, but I know he'll lie to me if it means he’d incriminate himself. How can I get him to tell me the truth?