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On Dating : "You Were Meant To Do Important Things." - kale & cigarettes
On Dating : “You Were Meant To Do Important Things.”

On Dating : “You Were Meant To Do Important Things.”

I picked Ashley up from the airport. We listened to music most of the ride back.

Just as we parked, she got a FaceTime. It was him. Mr. LA. She was elated, I could tell. The sense of ease around her disappeared and every feeling that could exist inside a person happened to her all at once. I was amazed at how cool she said Hello.

Before I crawled into bed that evening I sent a song to Maddy. It was one she mentioned liking from our last apartment hang.

“a soundtrack for your miserable, anger-filled walk into work tomorrow. hopefully you tell at least 3 people to go fuck themselves.”

I felt good about that one. She’s going to wake up to a text from me and feel that rush of fire in her chest and have that grin work its way across her face.

I’ve been doing this 20/20/20 thing lately. 20 minutes of 3 things that make me feel better. The pool I’m choosing from is exercise, meditation, writing, guitar, and Spanish. I’ve been noticing the good lately. My life feels rich and exciting. If I am learning and growing then I am happy.

Maddy texted me the next morning and said the song helped mellow her out as she trudged to work in the rain without an umbrella.

“that’s good. it sent me into a melodramatic spiral,” I responded. It was not an upbeat song.

“Hopefully you’ve pulled yourself out of the web you spun for yourself,” she said.

“oh wow. quite brilliant. because on the surface it seems like you’re showing sympathy for me. but really you’re making it clear that i’ve, in fact, done this to myself.”

“Haha. It was more that you used the word spiral, which I liked, and made me think of a spider. So this is all you.”

“this is oddly turning me on,” I said.

“Noted.”

I smile with all the muscles in my face when I go back and forth with her. Funny is always the thing that wins.

I worked out. Went to the loft to check on things. And then cruised over to Ashley’s for shrimp, gluten free pasta, and sautéed kale. She also fed me a glass of wine and I was loopy after 2 sips.

Maddy took herself back to the Angelika to watch Dark Waters again.

A text came through after.

“I had a big smile when Take Me Home Country Roads came on; this proves I definitely need to be a lawyer.”

I turned to Ashley to share but then the wine took over and I responded to Maddy before thinking it through, “you were definitely meant to do important things.”

Oh god, I thought. you were definitely meant to do important things? wtf does that mean? you don’t even know her.

“She just texted,” I told Ashley.

“What does it say?”

I read it.

“Does the semicolon mean two separate thoughts? Like, one, she thought of me during that song and, two, she wants to be a lawyer?”

“I need to see it,” Ashley responded.

“Or does she mean that song made her want to be a lawyer?”

“Gotta read it.”

“I can’t show you. I responded already. I fucked up.”

I handed her the phone.

“Oh boy. You should’ve waited. But yeah, she was definitely thinking of you.”

“But now I’ve ruined it. I’m so goddamn serious all the time.”

I stood up and paced for a second. Then I sat down and covered my face with my hands. Before leaning onto the couch corner.

“It was the wine. I’m drunk,” I pleaded to Ashley.

“Tell her that,” she said laughing.

Anything to stop the panic.

“i’m sorry that was so cheesy. i had a glass of wine and now i think i’m drunk,” I texted her.

“Oh no please go on…” she responded with an emoji of nails being painted.

“no, sorry. show’s been cancelled.”

I turned to Ashley and told her I felt like I couldn’t even text Erica now without feeling like I was cheating on Maddy.

“That’s how I feel with LA and my mini rotation.”

“Maybe you can only like one person at a time?” I proposed.

My weekly 6pm call with Charlie was the next day. Keeping me moving forward despite all my distractions.

He told me about the still pond posture. About existing in a state of freedom and contentment. Asked me what the point was with all the women. What was I looking for? And to ask myself – what’s the hook, how healthy is it, how sustainable is it?

I have no idea what objective reality is. All I know is what I’ve been constructing since birth. The stories I tell myself are not the truth. The truth is something we made up in order to make something as complicated and deep as life feel more digestible.

He told me that the way I breathe and use my body determines what I think and feel. If I have a bad feeling, a bad thought came just before it. The choice is mine to direct my thoughts towards things that make me feel better.

Little by little I’m learning how to be thankful for what I have. And resting in that thankfulness in the moment.

“And if you can grow that, to really be present with that, what else is there?” he asks me.

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