The Not So Desperate Search For My Second Life Partner; Dinner dates who are "Still full from lunch"

A funny thing happened on the way to this blog. I actually learned something by not writing it.

I started composing a very different column weeks ago, after yet another in my seemingly endless series of first dates that never become second dates. She and I had met for what turned out to be the fastest walk along the Santa Monica pier in the history of time. As has been my way lately, my writing was sounding like Eeyore’s less optimistic cousin while bemoaning once again that middle-aged dating is a torture not even Dick Cheney could love.

Then, daily life and work intervened. I had no time to write, and the blog just sat there like brussell sprouts on my kids’ dinner plates. It had to be finished off, but who had the stomach for it? I think that even I seemed to be avoiding another rant about the impossibility of finding that mythical One. Or even that mythical One For Now.

As the days (and holidays) whizzed by, the disappointment that consumed me after that aforementioned last first date faded completely. I’d pretty much recovered from the embarrassment of not realizing our stroll became a speed-walk because she just wanted to get through it and that the phrase “I’m still full from a big lunch” when spoken after a dinner invitation means “Go get yourself some Arby’s.”

I’d even managed to put behind me the frustration of earlier in that same week, when another alleged date with someone who suggested meeting at 8:00, showed up at 8:30 with another man, dismissed him and sat with me for 10 minutes, then took a phone call and said she had to return to work.

I admit it was a bit tougher to get past fuming about the woman I’d been out with a few times, until she started backing out of our date arrangements at the last minute, even as she started asking if I’d consider hiring her. Still, I was eventually able to even work my way past my mix of sadness and astonishment at that turn of events.

Not so long ago in my second life, I could spend 72 sleepless hours in a row obsessing about what I might have done wrong with all of these women, thinking that if I’d just somehow said or done something different, we’d be vacationing in the Bahamas right now. The thing is, though, it wasn’t only dates with women who weren’t interested in me that set this downward spiral into motion. It was also all the outings with women who just didn’t do click for me.

There was the very sweet one who was game enough to go to the driving range with me for our first date, and stuck with it even though I brought only right-handed clubs and she was left-handed. And there was the Renaissance woman who had a truly amazing intellect. And the holistic actress with this attractive, spiritual sense about her. They were all nice, smart women with a lot to offer. I just didn’t feel like I was the one to take them up on that offer. Which left me feeling incredibly guilty about not wanting to take that Bahamian trip for two with any of them.

Then, along came the distraction of the holidays and I was swept away with work, family, friends…pretty much everything but the next episode of First Date Follies. It took me a while, but this has turned out to be the best thing that could have happened. Getting some distance from all the disappointment, frustration and guilt for the first time in my second life has given me the chance to see dating for what it is – nothing personal.

This epiphany was finally delivered along with several glasses of Chianti a week ago, when I went out for drinks with the woman upon whom I once had one of the most intense crushes of my life. There was a time when she meant the world to me, and I hoped I meant at least a couple of continents to her. I knew we were destined for great things and then…suddenly…we weren’t. At the time, I was a newly divorced dad with two young kids with whom I wanted to spend as many minutes each week as I could. She explained to me – several times, because I didn’t want to hear it – that as good a person as I was, my circumstances just weren’t going to work for her.

I’m sure there are things in life that hurt worse than romantic rejection. Losing a limb, for instance. Still, I can’t even count the number of hours I spent trying to sort through my emotional wreckage while convincing myself this was only temporary. She’d come to her senses. It’d all work out.

Well, it didn’t. It was never going to. I understand that now. Still, there was something that connected me to her and I pushed myself hard to keep the friendship alive. Which is why I decided to have those drinks with her.

We spent two hours and one wine bottle talking about everything, from work to dating to home repair work. It was fun, like old times but without that What Does She Really Think Of Me tension hovering darkly over the conversation. At one point, I looked into her eyes and didn’t melt the way I used to. In that moment, I accepted that she’d made the choice that was best for her. It certainly didn’t seem like the best for me at the time, but it freed me up to find a choice that will work for me.

I see now that it’s all about recognizing and appreciating what each of us is looking for. We all have our standards. Some are reasonable, such as requiring that any potential mate hate Beaches yet never miss Road House whenever it airs on cable. Others are clearly not, like pursuing only Republicans. Good or bad, though, our standards make us who we are. We know what ours are. We see what the other person’s are. And if they align just right, let the mating ritual begin. If not, no harm done. No matter how much it might seem to hurt.

This may well be the best thing about this second chance at life. This time around, we’re all able to understand ourselves and or standards much better. (It only there was a less painful way to get to this point…) We know what we want, and we know not to settle for less than exactly that. Instead of seeing this dating process as something shady and nerve-wracking, I’m now starting to see it as the most honest part of my life.

Not the easiest, sure. It’s still going to hurt when you don’t get, or make, that second-date call. However, this probably isn’t supposed to be easy, unless you’re Madonna or George Clooney. We’re all pretty fragile this second time around, and picking the right person to spend these days with is actually a task to approach with due care and caution.

In the end, finding a second life partner is a lot like finding a good restaurant after your favorite one goes out of business. It’s perfectly fine to have a preference for a certain type, from Italian to Thai to old-fashioned American. You may have to try a lot new places before finding one worth going back to. And sometimes, the best ones aren’t the fanciest or most expensive, and you come across them when you aren’t even looking.