So as I stated in my last post, being the new country mouse in the big city, I decided the first thing I needed to do was build the semblance of a Philly social life to keep me from a downward spiral into deep depression. You see, the last time I stayed with my father for an unspecified amount of time, I had just left college and was hitting one of many “What am I going to do with my life?” walls. I was stuck in small town Flemington, NJ and didn’t know a soul. I split my days between watching Direct TV, drinking Sand Castle Riesling from a Delaware Valley winery (where I had become a regular “taster”) and pumping mad iron at the local gym. It wasn’t until a few years later when I looked at a video tape of myself doing stand-up during this period that I realized I had morphed into the shape of Chyna from the WWE. Never again will I live through another period like that. Not if I can help it.

So within a week of hitting the online dating scene, I had my first date set up with S*. S had found me in the Onion Personals, and seemed quite enthusiastic in a very subdued, sensitive kind of way. S was an oil painter. Actually, a quite gifted oil painter, as far as I could tell by a personal page on which he displayed his work. He was also a college professor at a small school in NY, where he taught painting a few days a week. He seemed highly intelligent, attractive, talented, and I wondered why the hell he would have any interest in me.

When it came to my personals page, I didn’t sugar coat the facts or try to make myself out to be something different from what I am. What would be the point? And though I was flattered that S found me interesting and attractive, I just couldn’t put my finger on what we would possibly have in common. But maybe that was just part of the charm, so after a week of e-mailing, we agreed to a day date, and met in center city for coffee and gelato.

Oh, and that’s another thing. S didn’t drink. At all. It was the first time I ever was going to have a date without a little alcohol in my system to loosen me up. Nor had he ever been married, had kids, or any other sort of drug problem. This was a new experience all around.

So we met, he paid for coffee and gelato, we sat by the window and talked about our lives. I explained that I was in the middle of a third-life crisis, S talked about how he discovered he wanted to be an artist after law school. When we were done, he asked if I wanted to walk to the indie house and catch a Japanese film. We were the only ones in the movie theater, and during a short lull in our conversation before the film, he kissed me. Well, more like he pounced – it was almost predatory (which will make more sense later). And I must say, the situation, being the only people in the theater, the way he just took charge – I would chalk it up as one of the most intense and romantic kisses I’ve ever had.

After the film, S invited me back to his place. I was leery, of course. I wasn’t about to sleep with this guy on the first night, but somehow I agreed to follow him back to his humble abode. When we arrived at his studio apartment, it was very clear why he had brought me back. He coerced me into a full make-out session, with hands going every which way. And as much as I wanted to just give into him, I couldn’t. I had only spent the last 5 hours with him, and honestly, I hadn’t exactly maintained the garden, so to speak. So I excused myself and caught a cab back home, with an irritated face from his stubble and a bouncy high from his attention.

I saw S a few more times, each date more intense than the last. I felt as if we were really clicking, and I let my mind fantasize about an artistic bohemian life we could eventually build together. He would paint, I would write and we would inspire each other on a daily basis. But at the same time, I knew there was something a little off about him.

I never saw S during the week. I knew he was working, but it was as if I was only reserved for one night during the weekend. He was moody (yes, I know, a moody artist, how original). He never turned on his stove, yet he had been in his studio apartment since ’99. He was kind of precociously dorky – he talked like a child at times. He was into Anime, and not just the cool kind, but the kiddie stuff as well. His cell phone was always off. And the one time I brought up the weirdness of “furries”, he shrugged, looked down, and muttered something about it being “cute”. Um…uh-huh.

All that silly stuff aside, I really did like him. When we were together, he was affectionate and sweet. It wasn’t that I had big plans for “us”, but I saw major potential. And then, one rainy Sunday morning, I received this e-mail:

“I just wanted to say that I truly enjoyed spending time with you the other day/night, but, things have changed unexpectedly for me in the past few days … and as result; I feel I can longer see you in the context that we have been spending time together. I think you are a great … wonderful, bright & beautiful … but I’m in a difference place in my life that really isn’t compatible to where you are or need to be …”

I was devastated. I didn’t see it coming, but in retrospect it made sense – S was obviously spending time with other girls when he wasn’t spending time with me. And on top of that, he dumped me by e-mail. Usually this sort of behavior wouldn’t faze me, but I really thought we were connecting, so to be ditched in such an impersonal way…well, it hurt. And it still hurt a couple weeks after that.

Why, oh, why, would me, little Miss Cynical, let herself get so wrapped up in the first guy she dates out of the gate? Because I let myself. Because I dropped my guard. Because I fell for all his moves. Because I let my heart jump the gun. Because I wanted to believe.

Sure, S knocked the wind out of my sails for a couple of days, but I had a mailbox full of potential bachelor inquiries, and little did I know, the next one would turn out alright – I just had to get over S to give him a chance.

Stay tuned for Part Deux!

* protecting the not-so-innocent