Drive-Thru Relationships

I’ve been in love once. Twice. Okay three times. Who knows. Clearly this, um, lack of understand shows I know all about love and what I’m looking for, right? So let’s talk about what I have learned.

There was a spark of something in San Francisco that opened a new chapter for me and I really wanted it to go further. Had all the indications that it might look good dressed up in a suit. iCan’t do the long-distance thing, so it fallowed.

Flashback to the holidays of 2012. I met a guy online (I’ll never use that site again!) and I was interested in seeing what would blossom. And after our first date, we dived straight in–but not literally, so stop thinkin’ nasty. It was phone calls everyday, meet for dinner every other day, and then it happened. He called me ‘baby’.

I let it slide on at least eight different times, but after a while, I couldn’t take it! Something in me was screaming, “This is too much too fast and I HATE ‘baby’!” I had to tell him this.

But I tried to play it smooth, though. He was closing the car door and said, “Have a safe drive home, baby.” I reopened the door, got out of my car, and said ever so slightly to his chocolate face, “I really, really don’t like that. Can’t you just call me Rhonda?”

He argued at me for a couple of minutes. I listened. But deep down I felt a huge knot growing in my stomach; and it was saying I don’t feel the same way about you.  

A few days went by, Christmas came, we exchanged gifts, I made plans for his birthday, and then somewhere along the way our communication fizzled. The calls were less frequent. The morning gym pics stopped. And through a disturbing tone in his voice while on the phone one day, I stepped foot into Chipotle just as he muttered the words ‘maybe this isn’t working out.’ The end.

Of course we’ve had the occasional Just Friends phone call/text here & there since then. But it’s really over! Lasted all of a month. And I’m okay with that…partially. Here’s the thing: I can honestly say that I’m content with just dating and not being in a relationship. When you commit to someone, you have to give them all of you. Or at least enough of you to actually begin building a foundation. I don’t think I’m ready to do that.

I like being me. At the end of my 13hr work day, I want to come home and sit in the corner of my couch under a quilt with some pita chips + hummus and watch the first two shows on my DVR. In silence. That’s what I do, it’s how I unwind. Do I want to cuddle with you in bed & listen to your crappy workday stories? Or gain unnecessary weight eat some heavy dinner (over candlelight blah blah) just because you haven’t eaten since breakfast time? Or rip off my clothes and jump on top of you? Not all the time. And FYI, in a so-called ‘relationship’ there’s a lot of ME being sacrificed for US. Fuck that. I ain’t ready yet.

I look forward to wearing too-tight clothes to a lounge and have *clearing throat* gentlemen gawk at me. I get excited each time I go to the gym simply because there’s always a new hot guy on the weights. I love to flirt with a cutie at the gas station. All these indicators let me know that I’m just not ready.

So until next time, unless I land an extra value meal on my next drive-thru relationship, let’s all cross our fingers in hopes they don’t forget the cheese on my chicken sandwich. Swiss cheese.

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