I’ve stated many a time I believe in sacred contracts – who, when and how long – and I stand by that. That means I also don’t spend much time looking back or wishing things worked out differently because I believe they work out exactly as they were supposed to. I may not be particularly fucking HAPPY about it. But.
If I did have one exception to my rule though, it would probably be Daniel. Not that I think we would be together today as he’s been with the same girl for years now; he’s just the one I wish I’D been different with. I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t self aware, POF wise. I was basically all over the fucking map, flying by the edge of my tiny dating dress, and I had not one single clue #sigh
So. To take up where I left off in “And Then There Were Two”, I didn’t message Daniel back for six hours and he asked me out for that night. He picked me up and I was in a pretty blue dress because I wanted to look really nice. He was casual, handsome and suave but not in an irritating, douchy way. And we just clicked.
We went to the Sandbar, my first but not last time – a whole other ridiculous post – and sat up top on the open patio. Daniel gave me the seat with the view that you see in this post. We talked and laughed and drank – a lot - and were that last couple in the place that didn’t even notice everyone else was gone. Gosh. I’ve had a handful of magical first dates and yes, this one with Daniel was really lovely.
My first redo would be when he invited himself up and wanted to get a little frisky. Normally, I would have been all like: YES PLEASE but I’d been advised by a well meaning friend to keep it PG if I wanted to be taken seriously so I basically gave him a peck and pushed him out the door even though I really liked him. What? And that was the ONLY time in our short connection that he would approach me, physically. SERIOUSLY.
Daniel and I saw each other or were in contact daily for the next ten days ish and after that first night, he was completely HANDS OFF though he obviously liked me because he kept asking me out. Then my gf told I’d scared him off! So I was to show him it was okay to move forward/ touch me. So I did. Repeatedly. And it just did not take, dude. FM. #not Note to self: Follow your own heart, not generic advice.
At the time, I was obsessed with the fact that it wasn’t rolling out smoothly in Harlequin romance sequence. I still thought a long term relationship was going to fall into my lap and back then I only knew how to do single OR long term. My dating skills, my ability to be chill and have fun…absolutely non existent. Poor Daniel. Poor me! I just assumed because we were spending so much time together and we were so simpatico that we were a done deal. Hahahaha…
Daniel was intelligent and perceptive and fun. He asked questions and noticed shit. He told me I looked much better at 49 than I did at 40 – true - and that I would scare most men away with my looks and my confidence. When he was kissing me – one of the few times! – I asked him if I scared him, he said: A little bit #sighagain
The last time I saw Daniel, dating wise, was when I made dinner for him. He’d just returned from seeing his family in Calgary, a trip he’d mentioned he had planned when we first began messaging. Here’s where the premonition comes in:
When he first told me about his long weekend away, I went: OH OH. I just had a funny bad feeling about it…
Aaannnd it was warranted. We had a wonderful dinner, we talked about future dinners, he told me what an EXCELLENT LIAR he was…#redflagmuch?? and as we sat on the couch drinking/ overdrinking as it went with Daniel, he told me I should be dating 45 year olds ie to change the age on my profile. Since HE was 45 at the time, it would have made sense to have just said: Well, aren’t I already dating one and aren’t you on my couch? But I’d had a lot of wine and not a lot of practice just calling bullshit when I heard it. Sigh again.
Then BAM. He. Was. History. I texted him the next day some fluffy whatever and he replied then NOTHING. Another disappearing act. Even my date whisperer Allison couldn’t figure out what went wrong.
Do I regret spending time with Daniel – whom I nicknamed because he reminded me of Daniel Craig, btw – even though he fucked off like that? Not one bit. All he ever did was take me out and treat me well. Was I sad it ended so abruptly and I have no idea why? Sure. But we’d had great times together and though we didn’t always agree, he was a good guy. That’s why he wanted me to change my POF age – because he said I was young at heart and should be seeing someone younger. He was watching out for me. Goofus.
After it all happened, I totally wanted to text him and just say good bye and thanks for everything but again, I was advised otherwise. Cheez Louise. Apparently, it would have been misconstrued. Fucking stupid “dating protocol”.
Post script: Daniel messaged me on POF a couple of months later, saying: “Hey, how are you? I miss you” and I was sooo happy to hear from him. We hung out as friends a few times afterward though never talking about what happened between us. I DID find out he’d had another FIVE OR SIX women on the go when we’d been seeing each other…!!! Hahaha. So much for me thinking it was a done deal!
Now Daniel’s been with one woman for years, thanks in part to me haranguing him about his juggling act, and I hope he’s happy because I wish for him only great happiness. Daniel’s not the one who got away; he’s the one that reminds me magical first dates, men who get me and that really DO want a long term relationship actually exist. And I have the Sandbar view to prove it. #ftw