Why I Question the Sanity of Anyone Who Dates Me (And Other Boyfriend-Related Topics)
If you’ve been reading my posts since the beginning, first of all, I’m shocked that you’re still reading. But second, this means that you have been with Sheila and I through a figurative (and sometimes literal) roller-coaster of experiences- a series of screw-ups ranging from the mildly unfortunate, to the strange, to the totally ridiculous.. especially when it has come to my dating life. You’ve heard all the stories, learned all the fake names, and no doubt been absolutely shocked when each relationship hasn’t worked out (sarcasm intended). As promised from the first day I started this new chapter in my life, it has been messy. And don’t worry, I will continue to be a mess for as long as I am homeless, unemployed and living alone in my car (and no doubt for long after that). But there is one category that, through some insane turn of events which I still have yet to understand, has recently become much less messy… my dating life. Why, you ask? Because I have a boyfriend. Yes. A real one.
Is he crazy? Probably. Is he also homeless? Shockingly, no. And, most importantly.. what are we going to call him? This one took a lot of thought. I toyed with so many fake names, but none of them did him justice.. or, let’s be honest, made me laugh enough. This is a fake name that, at least I hope, I will be writing about for a slightly-longer-than-average amount of time, so it has to be good. So, after five minutes of agonizing deliberation while watching The Bachelor, I finally decided on…. Doug. No idea why. But I like it. So I’m sure you have many questions. For one, who is this poor man who I somehow tricked into thinking I’m normal enough to be in a serious relationship? Or, how did I convince him that I am even remotely date-able? Well, if I’m going to answer all these questions, I should probably just start from the beginning.
This first one will come as a shock… to no one. Doug and I met on a dating app. After I got to Arizona, things with Phil completely fizzled out. It just wasn’t on either of our radars to try and start a long-distance relationship, and while we had a great time together, I don’t think either of us had any problem letting it go. But one night sitting in the van, it occurred to me that if I was going to be staying in Arizona for the winter I might as well suck it up and put myself back out there. So that’s exactly what I did. But you see, as time has gone on, I’ve learned exactly what I’m looking for.. and what I’m not. So as I sat there, scrolling and scrolling, and one by one finding fault in each guy (his hair was too perfect, he dressed too nice, he had a stable job, he seemed like he probably lived in a house, and, the worst, he looked normal..), I started to get discouraged. But then I sawhim.
Even typing this next sentence makes me want to vomit a tiny bit. But hold your lunch, because I’m about to say something sappy as hell. I can’t explain it, and I definitely never thought I’d be the one saying something as disgustingly corny as this next statement, but I swear I’m not being over-dramatic.. when I saw him, it was like something clicked. He had sandy blonde hair, and a smile that lit up his whole face- I couldn’t stop smiling myself just from looking at him on my phone screen. We started talking, and somehow it just got better. Not only was he cute, but he was also weird. At least weird enough to have a nerdy, witty conversation that didn’t involve telling me about his car or his favorite rapper. I was already hooked. We made plans to hang out that night, on Halloween.
Alright, bear with me here, because writing about sappy things makes me cringe just as much as I’m sure reading about them does to you, but I really can’t think of any other way to describe it- from the first time I met Doug in person, I knew that I was in trouble. He was special. Not only was he kind, hilarious, incredibly intelligent and well-spoken, but he also had so many of the same attitudes towards life that I did, he treated everyone he met with the utmost kindness and interest, he was charismatic, caring, motivated but at the same time always looking to have fun, and most importantly, he seemed to somehow find my particular brand of awkwardness at least somewhat appealing.
When I left for Maine, I left Sheila with Doug, and honestly I wasn’t sure what to expect when I got back- would we pick up where we left off, or would he even want to see me? Would I still have a van, or would Doug have changed his real name to, in fact, Doug, acquired Mexican citizenship and run for the hills with a new camper van? But somehow it was like no time had gone by. Despite dating for only two weeks and then being apart for a month, our connection seemed, if anything, to be stronger than it was before I left. And from that point on we were inseparable- any time Doug was free, we would go camping, hiking, running, or just spend the day together. And the more time we spent together, the more the “good stuff” came out- the quirks- the things that 99% of people would find incredibly strange, but that somehow one person manages to find entertaining. I knew Doug was in the 1% when he first referred to Sheila as a person (what can I say, the way to my heart is through my van). We would sing in the car together, dance to old country songs, or to no music at all, sit quietly and read together, lay awake talking at night when we knew we should be asleep, or sometimes just look at each other and smile with no words all. We took road trips to Mexico, to Southern Arizona, and to west Texas. One day, after a drive down to Tucson, sitting at a campsite, Doug busted me- I had put a photo of the two of us on my phone as the background. He jokingly said “So, what, does that mean I’m your boyfriend now?” To which I (so smoothly) half-yelled “Woah! No way!” And then attempted to backtrack by making a joke about how the photo would rotate between him and each of my other boyfriends. I then informed him that, even though I had many other options, I would like to at least submit my application for the position of his girlfriend, and that when he was finished reviewing it he should let me know.
Over the next few weeks I rescinded my application many times- really whenever we went hiking or exploring and got ourselves into situations that made me nervous, and I felt the need to let him know. But then one night, at a ranch in El Paso on New Year’s Eve (an entirely separate story), we were laying awake, neither person speaking, but I could feel that Doug was thinking about something. He finally broke the silence and whispered “If your application is still on the table, I’d like to accept it.” To which, with my endless tact and complete lack of awkwardness, I answered “Really?! What did it for you.. it was my dance moves wasn’t it.” He said yes, an understandable answer. I have one move called “The Fax Machine” that is especially attractive. Satisfied with this answer, I said “So, does this mean you’re, like, my boyfriend now?” And apparently, it did.
We have been inseparable since New Year’s, and the more time I spend with Doug, the more I learn about him, the more I realize two things: first, that the type of man he is far exceeds even the highest expectations I had that first night back in October; and second, that he really must be absolutely insane, because otherwise I don’t have the slightest clue why he would be dating a crazy homeless woman. But until the day when he reveals to me that he has eight toes on one foot (something I just thought of and now will definitely be checking), or is planning on leaving Phoenix to become a tightrope walker in a traveling circus, I’m certainly not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Because I think that (barring any extra toes) we’ve got a really good thing going, and I can’t wait to see where this new adventure is going to lead.
It’s true that when I started out, I thought the only way I could be happy, the only way I could really have the experience I was looking for, was to do it alone. And it’s true that some of the most amazing lessons I’ve learned- about myself, about life, about what’s really important- I have learned solely because I’ve taken the time to get to know myself, to discover what truly makes me happy, and to learn to love the person I am, without worrying about the opinions of others. My independence is so incredibly important to me. But I have also learned another lesson over the past few months- one that is possibly even more important. I have learned that sometimes, even the most solitary, independent, autonomous lives can be enriched when you open yourself up to every new possibility.. and start to let other people in. But not too many people, of course- Sheila might get jealous.
And as for Doug, I don’t know what the future holds, and I will certainly not be sacrificing any of my independence, or any of the things that make me happy, but so far it seems that this new addition to my life is only going to add to the list of reasons why I love it. So don’t worry, nothing is really changing. Sheila and I are still going to be screwing up as much as ever.. we just have a new partner in crime.
But, then again, he could just be in it for the van.
“And suddenly, you know.. it’s time to start something new and trust the magic of beginnings.” -Unknown
