Down for the Count

I cried in a bathroom stall at work today. I cried because I was supposed to have a dinner date tonight. Dinner at a very nice, much too expensive for a first date restaurant with a bona fide dreamboat.

These plans were made on Wednesday, when the dinner and location and day were suggested by The Dreamboat, and agreed to by myself. Only we didn’t specify the time. He was heading out of work and said we’d figure it out later in the week. We didn’t, though, and I haven’t heard from him so I assume the date isn’t happening.

I’ve been instructed several times today to send him an email to confirm our plans myself and/or leave the door open for future plans if he had to cancel this plan for some reason. I simply cannot write that email.

I know, because I’ve tried since lunch. Mostly I don’t feel like writing that email. I feel like I’ve been stood up and that even though everything else The Dreamboat has said indicates clear interest that this one action negates all that. Even if he responded with some perfectly logical reason for having not finished planning our date that I feel like I would no longer be interested in meeting him. Not tonight. Not ever.

I know that I’m overreacting. I’m coming off a string of disappointments, so I know that my dating ego is a little more bruised than normal, but I think it’s more than that. I have been trying for awhile now to take men at their word, even when they weave tales of future romance and relationship that cannot be based on anything even remotely substantial at such an early stage of a relationship. I have given the benefit of the doubt, over and over, on the off chance that these men have lost their phones or are not familiar with dating or are intimidated by me or are very busy when they do not come through as promised. And yet even my lowest expectations are consistently not met; any optimism that I bring to meeting new men is dashed as quickly as it is established.

I am, by nature, a hopeful person. I am almost unfailingly optimistic. Recently, though, I find myself disillusioned with this desire I have for myself… that I’ll meet someone and we’ll fall in love… living happily ever after. I believe that it will happen, but with no evidence to suggest that I’m making any progress I wonder whether I shouldn’t throw in the dating towel in its entirety. I no longer exhibit the resilience needed to continue putting myself out there and my heart is taking a serious beating. I can’t help thinking I could eradicate all my feelings of failure by simply giving up.

I still hope that I do end up with someone. And I believe that if it’s meant to be I will. I do not believe, however, that any of the dating I have done in the past few years has made any difference. So for now, I am officially off the market.