And it’s stupid, really, that we aren’t dating anymore
Last year, I was supposed to travel to New York City to see a Broadway musical with Ryan, the man I had been dating for the past month. This is the same man that I dated exclusively for six months beginning in . It would be a whirlwind trip. A romantic excursion.
Ryan and I had broken up in November 202 because I felt that he simply didn’t have time for me. He’d cancel or change days and times of our meetings and he could never meet on the weekends due to his summer vacations, parenting schedule and work conflicts. I wanted to date someone who had ? and made ? space for me. So, I let him go. But not really. Not enough.
During the time we were broken up, I dated a few men, but I never felt a true connection with anyone. I wasn’t intimate with anyone. In the back of my mind, I kept thinking, They aren’t Ryan, and it was blog link Ryan I wanted to find my way back to. I can’t explain the draw, except to say that the connection I felt with him was the connection people talk about when they meet their person: You just know. You just feel it.
“I’m sitting in the parking lot of this restaurant where I’m supposed to meet this man but he just canceled … and I don’t want to be in this parking lot meeting him,” I wrote. “I don’t want to meet any man. The only man I want to meet is YOU. Isn’t it?”
He texted back and suggested we meet for coffee. He said, like me, he’d just been kind of going through the motions. He said he was up for trying again.
I had been working with my life coach to believe that I am worthy of good things ? that I can have the things I want. She encouraged me to ask for what I need, so in a burst of enthusiasm, I asked him if he wanted to go with me to Palm Springs. I was shocked when he said he would but he needed a few days to work it out.
He said he’d been dating other women, of course, but hadn’t met anyone he connected with
After three days, he said he realized he couldn’t go to Palm Springs. Flights were too expensive, and he was locked into spending the weekend with his boss and a group of 60-year-old men. Instead, he told me that “The Music Man” was playing in New York and asked if I would go with him. I was so happy I almost started crying. In my previous marriage, I had often asked my ex to take a last-minute trip with me, but he was always too tired or said it would take too much effort. To do something wildly romantic with Ryan was amazing. The universe would give me good things! I was worthy! I only had to ask.
Ryan booked the theater tickets and I paid him for mine via Venmo. I booked the flight and the hotel. I’d cover those. He didn’t have a lot of extra money and I was happy to do it.
We talked about the trip. I felt myself falling for him again, but in a new way. A way where I felt supported and cared for. A healthy way.
I got a message on Facebook from a woman saying she wanted to know who I was. She claimed her boyfriend, Ryan, had just broken up with her. She said she saw on Venmo that I had given him money for tickets, and she looked me up. “What were the tickets for?” she asked. She said they’d been together for two years and she wanted me to tell her what was happening.