A View of Paralysis

"Real Life Adventures" is a strip that captures the humor in all manner of awkward situations.

Click on the comic to see more adventures and learn more about the artists.

"I love how you feel. You don't know how long I've been waiting for this."

Whispered in my ear in a tone as soft as gossamer, he pulled me closer - a caress as firm as it was gentle. We'd been in my living room doorway for almost 15 minutes. One kiss hello had led to several kisses. I wanted to say something witty and clever in return, give a response that was equal parts flirty, funny, and full of the attraction I was feeling. Instead, all I could manage to say was a barely audible "thank you" that was more blush than burn.

It scarcely seemed to matter to him. He smiled and leaned in for another kiss, pulling me just a touch closer towards him, and ever so subtly grinding into me to show that no, it wasn't some object in his pocket and yes, he was quite happy to see me. And as good as it felt to be touched, desired, wanted, I could scarcely move. The intimacy of the moment clashed with the sudden realization that this man was as attracted to me as I was to him had paralyzed me.

We were going to dinner, my date and I. We'd met for coffee a couple of times before, quick dates lasting an hour or so, just long enough to decide whether or not we wanted to see each other again. Each meeting ended with a lingering kiss good night that felt good but a bit perfunctory. This time, he told me he wanted to pick me up at home, open doors for me, give me a good night kiss at my front door at the end of the evening.

"I can't wait to see you again," he said. "It's going to feel so good to kiss you."

I didn't believe him - rather I didn't want to believe him. Being open to that feeling of desire also meant being open to the possibility of being hurt again, and I'm not ready to go there again.

When he arrived at my door, I had no choice except to believe. He greeted me with the long, lingering kiss he promised. Then another. And yet another. It was my first date in months, and I looked forward to seeing him again. When he kissed me, it was so easy to respond in kind. My date was an attractive, desirable man and it felt good to desired by someone like him.

Still, I could feel myself holding back out of...what? Fear? Definitely, but of what kind? Moving too quickly? Rejection? The possibility that perhaps the attraction he said he had for me was a lie? It was hard to say, especially since his kiss and his embrace was so convincing, so real.

I had to pull back after a moment to catch my breath and gather my feelings. I tried to look at him, but could barely make eye contact. What was I seeing on his face? Part of me saw the look of a man enjoying an intimate moment with a woman he wanted to get to know better. Another part saw the leer of a man who simply wanted a somewhat easy lay and had the perfect opportunity right in front of him in an emotionally conflicted date. Which one was right?

I didn't know. I reached out and caressed his cheek with a hesitant smile, as though I'd be able to read his thoughts with a simple touch. He didn't let go. Returning my hesitant smile with a brighter, more confident one he leaned in for yet another kiss.

"If we keep this up, we're never going to go to dinner," I said.

"Don't worry," he replied. "We have plenty of time." I could barely make out the end of the sentence, the words blurring into a tender kiss.

I relaxed a little more, doing all I could to enjoy the moment and let go.

More later, because learning to move past the fear is a series of small, incremental steps.

A View Of Insanity

Real Life Adventures - Real life, only funnier. Click on the picture to check out the website.

Over this weekend, it occurred to me that maybe it's time to start thinking about dating again.

It wasn't a pleasant thought, but it did come from a pleasant experience. I was out getting some Christmas shopping done over the weekend and ran into an old friend from high school. We haven't seen each other in many, many years and did a quick catch up. That, of course, means the inevitable question came up:

"So, are you married?"

That question still stings.

For the record, the question was asked not out of attraction, but as part of the "long time, no see" checklist a person runs through when encountering someone from the past. I just shook my head, said no, and was thankful that my former classmate was working and had to take a customer. We hurriedly said goodbye, made vows to keep in touch (which probably won't be kept), and went back to our normal routines.

That night at home, I went to Classmates to check out some of my former friends and walk down memory lane. As I did, I came across my first husband's profile. We met back in high school and were high school sweethearts. When his profile came up, I went to another site.

The memory of that romance - happy beginning and failed ending - still stings and we've been apart since 1995.

How long does it take to get over a failed relationship? I wish I knew.

On Sunday, I read an advice column by Carolyn Hax in the paper where she addressed this very subject. The man who wrote in for advice had been divorced for two years, but his ex-wife was still in his thoughts and dreams. "I'm eager to start dating," he wrote, "but would it be fair to a potential partner if I'm still a little hung up?"

Change a pronoun here or there, and it's like I could've wrote that letter. Her answer was you're ready to date when "you meet someone you're sure you'd like to date" and to let the process work itself out.

Easier said than done, at least in my case. When my divorce was finalized this July, I impulsively signed up on a couple of dating sites. I went on one date and never heard from the guy I met again. I went on another date, and have been kinda, sorta seeing that guy since. I say kinda, sorta because I hear from him for a while, we spend a couple of days together, then he's persona non grata for a while.

In a way, this is a good thing. I'm still quite bitter from my past experiences, and I don't know if I'm ready for something serious. On the other hand, it's not so good because every gut instinct I have tells me that the reason this guy comes and goes is because he's involved with someone else (or elses, to coin a new phrase), and comes around when it's convenient for him.

Which would be cool if he's only seeing someone else, and the other(s) are cool with this arrangement too. It would not be cool if he's married and I'm the other woman. I have no desire to be a living example of a Lifetime movie. Been there, done that with my last marriage and it hurt like hell. I don't want to do that to another woman.

The problem here is that my sense of trust is all off whack. Did I mention I'm still very bitter? The guy in question has been up front about everything else in his life. He keeps telling me that he's not hiding anything and I want to believe, but still there's that doubt. That nagging shadow of doubt that hangs around, tapping me on the shoulder and whispering, "You know something's up, don't you? Something about this just ain't right...." And that shadow will not shut up.

The comic strip I posted compares dating to riding a bike. Carolyn makes a reference to getting "back in the saddle." To me, dating is like an often quoted (but often misattributed) definition of insanity, it's doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results.

I suppose this means I shouldn't be thinking about whether or not I want to date again, but whether or not I want to be sane.

More later, once I find out whether or not Victoria's Secret sells lace push up straitjackets.