The Guys Lost... and the One Who Was Found

Last year I dated a guy named Dan. I met him at a 4^th of July celebration. We really got along well. I thought we had a real chemistry. I always looked forward to seeing him. I had this thought that he was going to be my permanent guy. I had had one “permanent” guy before. His name was Mike. He was permanent for four years. I really enjoyed the feeling of having one special guy in my life. It seems to suit me.

But Dan never got into the relationship like I did. He kept part of himself out of it. I sensed that very thing all along. He finally ended the relationship. I sometimes wonder if he ended it for my sake; as though he did not have the heart to lead me on any longer.

I was crushed when it ended. Though the relationship was not exactly a long-running one going on for years, I was devastated when Dan said it was over. For a few days I was just kind of numb. But of course I finally began to feel better, more like my old self. I said to myself the old axiom, the one about there being a lot of fish in the sea. And I told myself that the fish right for me would eventually swim by.

When I first saw the little photo of Marty there next to his comment below one of my blog posts, I did not think much of it. I figured it was just some guy who happened along, saw my blog, and decided to leave a few words. But the comment led to a response from me, which led to another comment from Marty, and before I knew it, we had talked on the phone.

I soon found myself in this strange emotional paradox where I did not want to get my hopes up, but yet I was excited. On the first date Marty and I hit it off. It did not matter that he was ten years older than me. In fact, nothing mattered other than the fact that when we were together something special seemed to be going on. Not only did I feel it, but I could tell that Marty felt it too.

Now some months have passed and a few small changes have taken place. I am no longer “Katie”, I am “Spec”, Marty’s nickname for me. He jokes about my ugly, gnarly toenails, my fondness of popcorn and wine, and my odd love of my microwave oven. I, in turn, joke to Marty about his ample midsection, his seeming contempt for exercise, and his occasional snorts when sleeping. Other things have changed too. The ratio of hugs and/or kisses leading to sex is not the same as it once was. This is partly due to our having sex a bit less often, but mostly due to Marty and I giving each other those non-lustful, but very loving, hugs and kisses more often.

I can say with utter certainty that not only are there a lot of fish in the sea, but the right one is bound to swim by, given time and patience. Of course none of it will do any good if the line isn't in the water. I don’t know much about fishing, but I do know that much.

 For the blurring guy.