ad-ven-ture-some. adj. /ad-ven-cher-sem/: inclined to take risks: venturesome.
see also: me two to four years ago -with regards to dating, love, and all things sappy and heart-shaped-related.
yep, those were the good old days. days when i was fearless. or just stupid. or maybe a little of both. regardless, at least it warranted life experience. a good story. a fond memory to reflect upon. another chapter for the book.
but lately, the only risk i think about taking is whether or not to risk that extra hour of sleep in exchange for watching another episode of real housewives of [insert city of choice here].
i know, i know, WATCH OUT.
but i suppose when it comes to love, or at least its pursuit, i can’t help but feel a tad bit exhausted. that whole relentless chase to find, track down and woo the dude of my dreams just seems like too much darn work.
so i’ve taken a step back. relinquished (to an extent, let’s be honest, i’m not going to go from control freak to free spirit overnight, or maybe ever) control over my love life to the Big Guy and rather, chosen to focus my efforts on just being open to having love find me. instead of the other way around.
what does that mean exactly?
i think it’s finding a happy medium. not making “husband-finding” my latest hobby, but not swearing off everything with a Y chromosome altogether. somewhere in between. flashing some eye contact to the cutie at church, but refraining from facebook stalking him once i get home. telling your friends that you’re open to having them set you up with an eligible fellow but not hounding them with texts, emails and or/phone calls “reminding” them of their promise (who does that? she says looking rather guilty). it’s realizing that the life that i’m leading right now is downright awesome and by no means void of joy despite my single state.
tuesday morning i met a girlfriend for coffee at starbucks before heading into work. and as i made my way back to my car following said date i couldn’t help but notice a rather attractive man making his way past my car. he smiled. i smiled. i glanced at his left hand (habit!) and ding ding ding, no ring (although some guys don’t wear a wedding ring but in this story i’m going to pretend that he is not one of those guys). he lingered for a moment. i pretended to fuss for my keys. he shouted, “hi, good morning.” i did the same. and despite the fact that our attraction seemed visceral, he continued on his way. and i, well, i really did have to search my purse for those keys! and when i finally located them, i did what has universally become known as “the look back,” a simple glance over my shoulder in his direction to sneak one last look at my blue-eyed bachelor. and well, what do you know, he had done the same. and our eyes met once again. and i smiled. and he did, too.
and then i climbed into the elantra and started up the engine. i looked out my back window to check for cars (standard procedure for backing out of a stall) and also to watch his figure get smaller and smaller as he ventured toward the coffee shop and away from my heart (oh poetry).
i recounted the parking lot tryst (that makes it sounds WAY juicier than what it really was) to the gal i had shared the cup of joe with later in the day. without a second thought she brought up the aforementioned story with napkin boy and lamented that i should have gone after the object of my affection with some excuse that i had left an item behind before exiting the store.
i won’t lie. her suggestion had certainly crossed my mind. perhaps i was channeling my former “adventuresome” self; an attempt to recreate those years when it really did seem as though i would do anything in the name of love (well not anything, come on it’s me we’re talking about). but then, i thought about it.
if he really had wanted to talk to me; if he had found our brief exchange nothing short of magical, he could have turned around and struck up a conversation. he could have taken the initiative. instead of me having to do the leg work (literally) by following him back into the starbuck’s under the guise that i just really needed that extra shot of espresso that morning.
i know it’s 2012. and that women ask men out on dates all the time. heck, i’ve managed to manipulate my way into a few dates myself. but i don’t really feel like wearing the pants anymore (i much prefer skirts and dresses if you haven’t noticed). i don’t want to be the pursuer. i want to be pursued. for a fireman to leave his number on my car. for a gent to see me in the parking lot and chase me down before i have time to drive away (that may be a little creepy, but honestly, i would probably find it endearing). sure, i’ll put forth some of the effort. my father told me long ago that guys have to have a 110% “green light” before they make a move because no matter the guy’s ego, no one likes being rejected. but like i said. i’m kind of exhausted. i think i’ve steered the ship for far too long, and well, look at where it’s gotten me.
so while i still wouldn’t turn down the opportunity to do something slightly uncharacteristic in the name of dating (of all of the tasks i’ve ever been dared to do, this is probably the only one i’ll agree to, and duh, it’s always good material for the blog), i think it’s time to put away my business card, for now at least.
if you think i’m worth your time, you’ll find me. and until then, i have to believe you’re simply stuck in traffic. and for anyone who drives the I5 at 5:30 p.m. on a friday, you’ll agree with me on this: there’s no fighting/manipulating traffic.
instead, you’re better off hooking up your ipod, turning up the tunes and enjoying the ride.