Apparently a great listener, Mr. Rescue took note of something I slipped on New Year’s Eve: sushi and I get along pretty darn well. In fact, if I needed to list my top three favorite foods, it’d probably be sushi, avacado, and bacon (make me something with all three and I will marry you).
And so, we met in Chelsea and out he took me to a popular sushi place in the city, where we talked and shared a ridiculous amount of rolls. Truth be told, though I’m not really the biggest fan of dating – there is something incredibly refreshing lately about my newfound attitude towards all of it. Since I’ve been able to separate my own emotional expectations and worries from the dude in question, I’ve been free to get to know someone and not get all-bent-out-of-shape if it doesn’t click.
After our dinner, I gladly took him to a pub around the corner that’s been one of my very favorites in the city ever since I interned several years back. Every time I return, I have this little fear that the bartenders who use to keep me company during the week, when I was underage and without friends, won’t remember me. They are all married and adorabely Irish and they never fail to say, “Lindsay, darling, you wear your heart on your sleeve!”
Maybe so, but that’s a much better place to wear it than where some do (anyone seen The Ugly Truth?).
As we’re sitting at the bar, drinking some beers and catching up, he asks me about the blog, about my career, if I’m enjoying NYC like I thought I would, and other pretty typical “I want to know more about you” questions. Though I’m usually pretty good at responding when the tables are turned and I’m the interviewee instead of the interviewer, he did shoot me a question that left me speechless and stumbling.
“So, what are you exactly looking for in a guy, anyways?”
I paused, looked at him and then sat my beer down. I’m sure I spewed out some adjectives and qualities that ranged from inteligent, attractive and loyal to honest, tall, and funny, and he seemed satisfied with that answer – but I couldn’t get the question out of my head. Or rather, the way it caught me off guard.
If you were to line up Mr. Faithful, Mr. Idea, Mr. Fire, Mr. Possibility, and all the others, there would be very few physical similarities. They are all tall and have killer smiles (kinda my weakness), but I don’t really have a type. The men whom I’ve fallen for have been in a wide range of careers – from finance and doctors, to in the army and musicians. I’ve been swept away with romance and candles and also equally intrigued by playing beer pong (classy, I know) with Mr. Idea early into our relationship. I’ve been with men who can make me laugh until my side hurts and tears are streaming down my face, and guys who even though it may not be the very best way of dealing with something, completely, brutally, painfully honest with. Sometimes at their expense or at mine. I’ve dated cheaters, been a cheater myself, men who cry on the first date, those who never show any emotional weakness, dog lovers, cat lovers, those who enjoy hunting, those who threw up when they accidently hit a rabbit – and the differences go on and on.
So, while it is more than an appropriate question to ask someone who you’re on a date with, I really have no idea what it is that I’m looking for in someone. The only thing I really do know – is what I’m not looking for.
And that, if I’m utterly honest, is a relationship.
I’m not opposed to going on dates or getting to know someone and I’m certainty not closing my heart to opportunities that may arise. If Prince Charming suddenly pounds on my door, ready to share his unconditional love with me – I would grab my coat and a coffee, but I’m not sure I’d want to go riding into the sunset. Even if that happens to be down Fifth Avenue to Cartier. Because really, being in a relationship right now scares me. I told myself I’d never make rules on this blog about what I could and couldn’t do, and that remains true – but I also promised to always be true to myself and to my heart. That no matter how ridiculous or unattractive or silly something may come across, if I can’t accept who I am and what I feel, then I’d never make a great partner anyways. Nor would I truly ever be happy.
For someone who has always wanted to be in a relationship, who hated being single, who longed for a warm body more than she yearned for food to eat – this is quite a big step for me. I feel such a freedom, such a relaxing peace of mind, such a newfound sense of self that’s separated entirely from a man. I don’t think I really need one to be happy or to live the life I’ve dreamed of. I don’t want my fire to be distinguished, I don’t want to call someone every single night before bed, I don’t want to give up weekend plans for the interest of someone I’m committed to, I don’t want to change my Facebook status, and I don’t want to be completely, one hundred-and-ten percent sure of where my next great kiss (or love) will come from.
Maybe that’s not what Mr. Rescue (or Mr. Possibility, perhaps) wants to hear but I can’t allow that to be my greatest concern. There will be a day when my singleness is less important and I’ll desire being part of a couple. Sure, one day, I will be more than ready to walk down the aisle and see the faces of my children, but for now – I think what I want, what I’m looking for in a guy, what’s significant in my life – is freedom. Not to sleep around or go on fabulous dates or not be tied down – but the freedom to live my life. That instead of basing my happiness on someone else or on making someone else happy, I’d rather fight for and believe in the liberties and the justification of singleness.
The liberties of realizing what you’re looking for more than anything else – is yourself.