The short life of love in the carpool lane.

Love. What a mother fucker.
Carpooling. What a mother fucker.
Now I’m alone in the slow moving lane. “Single driver” yea. No kidding.

Three weeks ago, Samantha had a Fall luncheon at her house and invited colleagues, clients and friends.

To make a 3 week story shorter, I will give you the quick intake of the matter.

I went to the event. I socialized. I met Richard and Chris.

Richard and I got into a heated debate near the end of the evening which lead to drinks at his place. Nice but “no cigar” and I drove away ( in the single lane) that morning in peace.

Chris messaged me as I pulled out of Richard’s driveway with witty comments and friendly banter. We agreed that on his stint with visiting my home office as a vendor we should car pool. We got to know each other a bit more and car pooling lead to a date.

One date lead to more time and Chris was the “nice guy” I had religiously avoided. I sought counsel for my nervous stomach with my gal pals and concluded to stop making the mistakes of my past, I should change my single-drivin ways and enjoy his adoring attentions.

And I did. I enjoyed the picnic he planned and the dinners he cooked and meeting his in-town family. I enjoyed his company, the way we joked and even how he held my hand.

I told Samantha on Weds of week three how utterly wonderful this ended up to be!

I had changed my ways and got a pleasant surprise in knowing an ideal person. I exuded chipper sighs to my friends as we discussed out dating lives.

Then came Thursday morning. The carpool lane was breezy and fun that morning. Our exchanges as we got out if the car were almost gag-a-lusciously cute.

Then at 5pm I get a text from him that advised the carpool arrangement was no longer a good idea and that he would like to remain friends.

I was confused. He responded and stated that he didn’t want a relationship and to avoid pain we should “be friends”.

Ugh okkkkay.

rsz-carpool

Sadly folks, I’m a sap. I contorted my diva demeanor to a shard of FDup broken-hearted, questioning chick. The kind of girl-pain I always advised my friends on and the kind I avoided.

Within seconds, I went from happy girl to sad girl, rejected back out into the the dating market.

I felt miserable. I asked myself … well if I feel like a looser now, who was I 48 hours ago?

Was I different? Was I better? Or was I who I was at the start?

Yes I felt scared to try something new. I could regret the way I “zigged” when I normally would have “zagged” ( aka ran for the fuckin hills.)

I went out of my pattern and dated someone I would have never dated normally.

I realized dating can be easy. I was… (what was the word) ah yes, happy. The relationship was classified as (something I had never had before…) normal.

For a gal who doesn’t like to feel, days ago, I thought I developed the capacity to fall in love.

Samantha had asked me if I was crazy for him. I said “No.”

I know what being crazy for someone is like – it is desperate and zealous and selfish. I remember doing amazing things for my “crazy about em loves” and everything I did was shadowed with resentment. I never got back what I put in. This thing with Carpool Chris was different. I wasn’t crazy, I was saner than I had ever been. I could accept him giving to me and I learned I would have done anything for this individual…and not batted an eyelash.

48 hours ago this change was indication of kismet. Now I see I had just learned “better” dynamics exist.

Not every lesson learned comes without pain. I can’t say I have ever been rejected like this before – no warning – impersonally – with my guard down & emotions up.

Will I ever get this balance right? I don’t know.

I believe in love friends … I also am starting to believe – that it’s not meant for everyone.

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