A new beginning?

In the last couple months, I have finalized my legal separation and stealthily tiptoed into the dating arena. As I was wrapping up the loose ends of my second failed marriage, I was gleefully looking forward to singlehood. Spending time with my friends, lazy weekends doing what I wanted, no questions asked, taking road trips to wherever Oz (my beloved VW bug) took me, crashing on couches after late nights out dancing and frankly, dating with joyous abandon. I wanted to walk the fine line between free-spirited and total gutter slut. OK, that’s a bit of an overstatement but I had an established a predefined timeframe of 6 months with which I had given myself permission to get out there and enjoy life, liberty and the pursuit of many, many cute boys.

For example, I was much looking forward to having a “Transitional Boy”, a phrase we coined for this one guy D dated (that’s a term to be used loosely in this situation) for a few weeks. They must be exceptionally cute, very young and, frankly, not too bright. You have adequate to great sex twice a week for about a month and then move on to someone you can actually take seriously, in terms of dating. You know, someone you can use words with more then 2 syllables during a conversation. You get loads of frequent (if very quick and sometimes kinky) sexual encounters and don’t have to worry about “where this is going”. It’s going to the bedroom. Or the kitchen counter, maybe to a parking lot or restroom stall but that’s about it.

You know, just when you think that you’ve got it all figured out, life throws you a curveball. Quite literally, within weeks of being free to dive into the dating pool, before I’d even gotten into bikini-shape, I somehow stumbled into what appears to be an actual relationship with a really, really amazing man. The punch-line to the diatribe is that he’s one of the managers at my favorite pub. Match made in heaven, huh? I’ve known who he was for quite sometime, but unlike the rest of the bar-boys, I never saw him out on the town and off duty and he was always quiet and polite. So, while I always thought he was absolutely adorable, I assumed that he must have a girlfriend and unfortunately, there was no one at the pub that I felt I could ask about his dating status without starting the gossip hounds up. One night I got the nerve up (oh, alright, I had several beers and he looked good) and I asked him directly. Result?? Single, gorgeous and charming.

How the hell did this happen? I spend the last year and a half working up a nice righteous bitter rage to spew forth on the hapless male population and into my life walks someone amazing. Someone that makes me forget all the absolute crap I’ve been through in the last year, the emotional anorexia of the last 2 years of my marriage and makes me stupidly, annoyingly, deliriously happy. Dammit.