Dave Friendly- Part II

Since all sense of what was proper and what was not proper to discuss with one's friend with benefits had flown out the window, I threw a big idea out. Big. So big Dave looked at me like I had suggested ritualistic human sacrifice.

"I think I want to have a baby."

And he nearly choked to death on his beer. "Should I be worried? I mean about what we just did?" And he's quite possibly the only guy I know who wouldn't be offended by, "No, no, no. I'd never want to have a baby with you."

He lit another one and opened another beer. Closed his eyes and stretched across the bed. "I love how you just mention big topics like this off handedly. Remember when you told me you were starting a business? Just one day, out of the blue. And you had it all figured out already in your mind. And then you went and did it. So tell me about this proposed baby."

He didn't know the background- the fear of babies, the problems I might have trying to have a baby (mostly not being able to). But the explanation was pretty clear in my head. "So, go do it."And then a little further explanation from me until we got to the really odd part. "If I don't find someone in the next few years, I'm considering doing it by myself."

"Really? You think it will come to that?" he asked, now staring at me. " I can't imagine you not being able to find someone." And then my answer," It's not that I can't find someone- it's finding the right someone, you goof." "So you're really going to try that by yourself?" and a crazy questioning look. "Well maybe. I'd have a lot to work out first."

The 80 % rule

A friend e-mailed me a few days ago to say that he thinks my life is interesting. I had no idea of what to say. I don't think my life is all that exciting. Strange; yes. Interesting; not so much. I ended up telling him I would ponder his remark as I scrubbed the next few bathtubs. But so far I've got nothing. There's a big topic rolling around in my mind but its not coming out coherently. In the mean time this story seems suitably interesting.

After Rick I met Dave Friendly. Don't confuse this Dave with my friend Dave-follow closely. Dave and I went on a few dates before it became obvious that he was not "the one." This didn't bother him in the least and he quickly became "the friend with benefits."
He was the one I used when I was trying to forget. Or when there was no one to forget but loneliness. He's a great guy but made two things very clear from the beginning: he was incapable of monogamy and not interested in anything serious. Somedays this made him perfect and other days this made him the anti-Christ depending on my mood. But if I called, he showed up. And if he called and I wasn't dating anyone great-well he showed up then too.
Dave didn't know that I was trying to forget and didn't care. Our first date was eventful (another day) but remained clothed. Our second date involved some dinner somewhere and a rented movie. I think he developed a clear picture of my intent when he let me pick the movie at the rental place. "It's good. I've already seen it."

Most people would have called it a doomed relationship but we weren't even trying to have a relationship. I was trying to erase someone and Dave was busy being Dave.
And this arrangement worked well for three years. He was the second person I called after any major break-up (or even any minor break-up sometimes). When I just wanted to forget Dave was the guy.

Sometimes he would call when my relationships were going well and he always took it in stride, "I hope this works out for you-but if it doesn't you know how to reach me." And it never did work out. He knows all the "reasons" and all the rejection of the past few years. But he only has an idea of what happened before he and I met.

The last time Dave came over (and as the story will tell I mean last time as in final) things went pretty much as usual. Except I had changed. Something was different. It was me.
Six months before Dave had been over and afterward asked me a strange question. "Do you think I should marry Susan?" I questioned why I, of all people, would be the one to come to for advice on this. He and Susan had been dating for close to 3 years- she was the girlfriend who came after me. And that time I didn't give an answer. I had another thing or two to learn before I would really change.

But the second time he asked me was different. Naked, in bed with another woman, drunk and definitely stoned-he thought to ask me if he should marry her. The sheer ridiculousness of the question made me laugh out loud. But he was serious, "I value your advice- out of all the women I know you are the most grounded. I know you'll give me good advice." I was flattered. And I thought about the question. And in my usual irritating fashion answered a question with a question- "Well why do you think you should marry her?" His reasoning was pretty sound. She had put up with him for three years, neither of them wanted children (which up until then I had not known), he was getting older and had no desire to start over with dating. I followed with a girly question, "Do you love her?" I really had no idea if he did or not. It wasn't really the sort of thing we generally discussed. He told me that he guessed he did- that he really wasn't sure of what love was or if it even existed. He said they had had a similar conversation before and that she had said she wasn't sure true love existed either. And while I had been lucky enough to experience it I was unable to describe it. And I was lying in my bed thinking of how to explain love when I knew we were through. "Yes Dave, this is twice you've brought this up. It's been more than six months and you're still thinking about it. Go ask her."

There were too many things going on in my head to explain. Too many ideas and too many memories I would be unable to erase.

In the end I went with humor. "You know-as far as I can tell about 80% of the guys I date marry whoever they date after me." "Really?" he questioned. "Yeah- I guess I should have warned you to choose carefully."

Fear of Babies

In my catalog of problems with Rick next on the hit parade comes babies.

Rummaging through the junk drawer that is my life last week I stumbled upon the my one and only Rick momento- a ticket to a Tiger's home game. Friday August 6, 2004 up in the bleachers. It was an awesome date (awesomeness discussed later).
It was a work event-his work- which I thought odd for a third date that we almost didn't have (also a topic for another day).
So we're at a big work function and I think I'm doing well. And then the real story comes into play. Someone is there with their newborn baby. Like two weeks old. It's this baby's first trip out into the social scene it appears. And Rick loves babies (he will be a great dad and somewhere in this mess I start rating dates on their dad-ability). So there we are- he's holding an infant. It appears that everyone wants to hold the baby and nearly everyone does. And then I hear, "Do you want to hold him?" And it's coming from Rick and its directed toward me.
Unbeknownst to the general public- a few eeks before my divorce was final I made a trip to my doctor with the idea of using my ex-husbands insurance one last time. I had no intention of hearing bad news. Or the need for even more doctors and more tests. And it was a surprise to hear what they said lastly, "You may have some difficulties having children and we won't really know until you try."
And with those words fresh in my mind there he was asking if I'd like to hold an infant. Somewhere Freud and Jung were laughing-laughing that phony laugh you make when someone's joke bombs.
I guess the look on my face told the story. The look on his face was puzzled and his co-workers were quickly assigning me either fling or trophy status.
While the rest of the night was truly great- that issue would never really go away for us.
Late one night on the phone- "Are you ever going to tell me why you're afraid of babies?"He was the first I would try to explain my situation to, the first of many. I'd like to think that in the three years since my explanation has improved. This response was one of the best I've heard-clearly, he wanted to be a father no matter what.
In time my reaction to the whole baby thing would change and I would face that fear too. If it happens, it happens- worrying over it isn't going to change the facts or the outcome. I'm not sure how to end this- it's just one of the things I had to work on. There wasn't anyone who could help me. There were no magic words. Just time.

A Catalog of Problems

A few days ago a friend called me to vent about his girlfriend, seems she's emotionally unavailable-you see she's still hung up on her ex. I was about to say that the worst part is that she fully admits to this but then I remembered. I had been that girl too.
Rick and I had our first dating go-around a little more than three years ago. For those of you trying to complete an accurate time-line it was really just months after the judge stamped the divorce papers. During the divorce proceedings I would waste more time with an idiot I had dated before. I lost that one to the "other woman". She was tall, blond and always smiling. You probably know her, it seems everyone does. But I was no match for St. Pauli Girl sadly and he chose to continue drinking them into profitablity. In a great forecast of the future- my parting shot to that drunken loser was, "My relationships don't fail because I don't try. You farked this one up." To which he nodded and stumbled off.
But for the next one I really wouldn't try. In fact I would sabotage secretly. It wasn't that I wasn't over my ex or the drunk, I just hadn't had enough time to heal. What I really needed has to be alone for a bit but I didn't see that then. So I decided to go right back to dating but this time I was going to be as "involved." It seemed like a a simple plan.
Rick and I had our first date shortly(and by shortly-I mean hours) after I finished with the drunk. No time to waste, I was on a mission. It was a fairly normal first date; drinks, conversation.
The following day I was feeling good about it still. And this is where my plan came into effect. My friends kept telling me that I always got too involved with these losers. I only heard the"too involved" portion. So the following day I went out to a local spot to see what else was out there- I was not going to become too involved again. And that's how I met Pete. He probably wasn't someone I would have normally dated but I was out looking for something new.
And here's where the first of many mistakes I made with Rick would begin. At first it was easy to juggle them. But as the summer progressed it became more and more difficult. Eventually I would come clean with Pete. "There's someone else." His reaction was not what I had anticipated, he cried. Driving home that night I thought about telling Rick but their (Rick and Pete) personalities were so different I couldn't imagine what Rick's reaction would be. So I didn't. And the problem just grew. The phone calls and the voicemails-"I've gone straight to your voicemail; I hope this means you're getting some sleep. Talk to you in the morning." The lies I told to cover myself.
And then one late night on the phone,"It's like you're not all there for me. Like you keep a part hidden. I really like you, or at least what I've seen of you so far, but I need to see the whole picture." I didn't have much of a reply. There wasn't a whole lot I could say. But it did seem as if there was something I could do; I could be more involved.
The next time I saw Pete would be the last. It was a terrible night. On the way home, in the pouring rain, there was only one person I wanted to talk to- to tell him that I was ready. Ready to be more involved. And I got the voicemail.
My call was not returned, not for several months. I guess I had decided too late and he had moved on. Later on we would talk about it-he would say that I just wasn't all there. I would confess to seeing someone else.
Later on I would realize that the someone else really didn't matter. Even if there had been no Pete I still would have held on to some small part of myself to avoid being hurt. Time would heal that part of me however, and one day I would be well enough to show someone all of me again.