I thought about it a long time. I really did want to see him again, but I also knew that this wasn't going anywhere. So I sent him a note early Sunday evening that although I "find you good looking, intelligent, articulate, accepting, a gentleman, not a player, easy to talk with, open minded, with a close and supportive family, and generally happy with your life", I didn't think we were likely to connect long term, and that I didn't know why, but it was like a jigsaw puzzle piece that's the right color and shape, but still just doesn't fit, and I was worried about wasting his time. But (I'm such a waffle) if he still wanted to get together Saturday, I'd enjoy his company.
Later Sunday evening, there was entry #645, and I understood a little bit better the nature of the disconnect with Dreyfuss. There are things he likes and does that I would have some trouble appreciating. The mysterious piercings are only a tiny part - I might even get past that easily. But his idea of Heaven probably involves a huge recliner in front of a monster TV, with NASCAR races on, and a lot of beer and beer buddies. I'd have some trouble with that. I guess I'm as big a snob as Jay's father. But really, it just wouldn't work. I suspect that many of the things that make him happy would bother me. (I'm sure the reverse would also be true.)
That, of course, led to the thought that Roman and I like pretty much the same things. Our tastes are very similar. The degree here and there might vary, but it's all acceptable. At a basic level, we fit perfectly. There are a few places where our personalities clash, but nothing talking can't fix. Piper asked if I was comparing all these guys I'm meeting with Roman, and of course I am. How could I not?
I didn't hear from Dreyfuss again until this afternoon, when I got an email from him in which he agreed that the chemistry wasn't there, and it was ok, and he hoped I'd see it as mutual, and that no, he didn't think next Saturday was a good idea. I was happy that he took it ok and wasn't angry with me, but I was disappointed that he didn't want to see me again anyway. It wasn't a pride thing. I don't want to be touched by him, or to enter his life, or let him very far into mine, but I still wanted to talk more with him. I didn't know what my problem was, why I couldn't let him go, until I read the blog of a very perceptive young woman who said:
"I've been thinking I fixate on people and find myself with a near-compulsive urge to get inside their heads, and wondering why this is so. Sometimes I (do we all? am I unique in this?) just clock someone, pick up on a few things they say, get a few bits of insight into their character and feel an urgent need to know them, to understand them, to know what goes on in their mind -- maybe to figure the world out one person at a time."
... and I think she nailed it. I feel a need to know him. He's very different from most of the people I know, and I want to see into his mind and his world.
I think that's part of the problem with Roman, too. There are still a lot of things I don't understand, and I can't let go of him until I do.
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On the "Fishkill" side, he had taken some pictures in the B&N parking lot on Saturday morning, and I got an email note from him Sunday morning saying that he had uploaded and cropped them, and he would send the large files to me to resize as I like, so I should expect "a torrent of emails" from him "this afternoon or this evening" with the photos attached. They haven't arrived yet. I'm getting anxious.
Ahah! As I was writing the above, I heard the "plop" of email dropping into my reader. It's the photos, from Fishkill. A torrent. Pardon me while I go look at them.
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