I had been playing with a possible blog entry on how I wish I had an on/off switch for negative thinking. My sense was that something wasn't right with Mr. Right Now and I was ready to chat but he wasn't so I made up stories about why. My buddies were great in listening and most of them tried to steer me away from my doomsday prophecies.
Sometimes it's a bitch to be right.
We met yesterday for "lunch." But as we drove to the restaurant he was uncomfortable and rambling. When a break in his verbal barrier-building appeared, I inserted why I had come. I wanted to know what he'd been hinting at for a week but hadn't yet said.
"You want to know now or do you want to eat first," he said, still postponing.
"Am I going to get indigestion?"
"Then tell me now. Not eating will be good for my diet."
So he launched into how he had thought he could do "this" and now he knew he couldn't, how there was another woman who'd entered the picture and she was influential and could really help him meet the right people who would help his business grow, how his good friend had suggested that he needed to get past his distrust of women or he'd just continue to push the good ones away . . .
Then he offered me a second chance at doing lunch.
While rejection is never easy, I thought I handled myself fairly well. I listened. I responded. I didn't try to persuade, convince, convict or anything else. I simply let him know where I was. Ok, I did insert a zinger or two but really, they were subtle and he would have had to really be paying attention to get them.
Strange that I didn't play the usual tapes in my head. I knew that this wasn't about my big hangup -- my physical attractiveness or the lack thereof. For the first time in my life, I knew that what I looked like had nothing to do with his decision. He made it clear throughout the drive away from and back to my car with comments, looks, touches, etc. that physical attraction wasn't the issue.
Guess I should be more upset that he was explaining it in such a way that it really sounded like he was "trading up." Since he's in the car business, it was hard not to hear it that way. But, truthfully, I was the best I've been in a long time with this guy. I had embraced my desire to have fun and adventure in my life and was living large with him. We had good times. And now he wanted those to end. I wasn't in love but definitely "in like." And, grieving for what could have been was already taking hold of me.
When we arrived at our stopping place and he looked me in the eyes.
"Wish I had a good exit line," I said with a not too forced chuckle.
"Think of one while I come around to open your door," he said, continuing to prolong the inevitable.
As I stood beside him, he looked a bit lost and asked if a hug was warranted.
I accepted the embrace as well as the light kiss and then I began the trek to my car.
"Wow," he said with obvious admiration at what lots of miles on a treadmill are netting my backside. "That looks so good to me."
And for the first time ever I tossed a line over my shoulder, "And it's walking away."