A Last Hurrah?

I had dinner with L, the first time I had seen him since November (and all of my message shenanigans). 

The initial plan was to go to a movie, but he worked late. I asked him if I could meet him for dinner and so we did. 

It was somewhat awkward. I felt sheepish for my behavior, though it wasn’t spoken of. It did not help that he received a call (unanswered) from a “Jess,” the company line reading “OKC.” In fairness, I had disclosed the whole situation with the non-pussy-eating guy to him last week. 

Dinner was nice. By the end of the meal, things were easier. Maybe. 

He’s having regrets about moving here. His job is overwhelming. It’s a lot to handle. I know – I’ve done it. 

We walked out the door.

“I feel like the shell of a man,” L said. 

I think he was trying to explain why he can’t meaningfully date me right now. I think he started to say something about wanting more. I forgot to ask him what he meant by meaningfully date.

“Well, the shell still looks quite good,” I said. 

We walked to my car. I told him I had something for him. I reached into my car and pulled out an ice scraper – one of the long-handled ones with the scraper on one end and a brush on the other. I had tied a tiny bow around it. 

“Welcome to Ohio,” I said as I presented it to him. “I figured you’d appreciate a utilitarian present.” 

He did. 

He was sick, so we didn’t kiss, but we did embrace a few times and did kisses on the cheek. 

I wish we could have talked more – I was finally starting to feel like myself – but we were standing outside in the cold and I could tell he was getting chilled. 

And then we went our separate ways. 

Later, I decided to resurrect my OKCupid account. The last time I used it was Fall 2015. 

In searching, of course he came up. And we were a 96% match. When I answered the questions he had answered but I hadn’t, the match percentage went up to 99%. 

I am well aware of how the algorithms are funky. But I also really liked his profile. It’s him. 

… So I sent him a message. 

His “you should message me if” section said he should be messages “if you ask questions.” 

I asked him a question. 

… And he viewed my profile and read my message. 

Then I sent a text saying I hope he didn’t think it was creepy. 

No response to anything yet. 

I may have crossed a line. I don’t know. 

—–

It likely doesn’t matter. He isn’t comfortable here. 

I need to move on. My being hung up on him isn’t doing me any good, really. At the very least I need to let go, let him come to me, and stop seeking him out.