I Want To Date A Girl Who Writes

“You’re doing it again. No…wait. Actually, you’ve never done this before. Keep reading.”

And just like that, I was hooked. Addicted to your story. Isn’t that what being in love really is? You can’t wait to find out what happens in the next episode. You want to co-star. Move center stage and write the show of your lives.

“Find someone you want your future kids to be like.”

That stuck. I wonder how much heartbreak went into this lesson. It’s smart, so I expect it to be a lot.

I read from the beginning. Post after post. On to the next one. Just like you after saying goodbye to another almost-love.

Your transformation is mesmerizing. From “every heartbreak feels the same” to “don’t make drastic decisions based off emotions.” A lot happens in a year.

I’m sorry you’ve had to keep signing heartbreak waivers in 2016. If this first impression will be my last, I want to make sure you know.

Then again, in the end, it’s always the unspoken explanations anyway, that tell us what we want to know. Like those in the catalog cabinet on the mezzanine of the Ace Hotel in Portland you love so much.

How happy I am to see a ray of light amidst all the heartbreak: you know your dream guy is out there.

Ha! A response. “$10 says your dream man will fall in love with your writing.” I grin and hit the recommend button. “No idea about the dream man part, but someone just moved closer to making $10.”

What’s next? Oh, the I-forgot-how-to-date rant, love those. You end on a high note. Skip the food review? No. It’s never just about food.

Indeed. You date burgers, I read between the buns. What kind of man do you want? Do I have to be meaty? Is it okay if I come with a lot of sides? Side effects even?

Then again, you’ve spelled out the answer ever so clearly and in plain letters:

“I need a man who is striving for excellence in every aspect of life.”

Excellence in spirit, in brains and in business. Integrity, honesty, kindness. I’m not religious, but I still remember a verse instantly:

“Love is patient and kind;
love does not envy or boast;
it is not arrogant or rude.
It does not insist on its own way;
it is not irritable or resentful;
it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth.
Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends.” — 1 Corinthians 13:4–7

Another ex, another letter. You ask for more each time. It’s excellent, this striving for excellence. Magic, flowers, a man who deserves you. Refusal sneaks in. The refusal to settle for ordinary. Maybe that’s why the futon had to go too.

More demands, less desires. Less travel. Less going out. Whoever comes next better be amazing in real life, not just in bubbles like New York.

You remember you love it when you see it close up again. In the meantime, I have learned to love it from afar. At the end, you circle back and end up right where you began.

“Your partner is not responsible for your happiness, you are.”

My heart drops. It’s been an amazing ride. But it’s over.

I learned so much about you and nothing at all. Each day is a new day, a new story to tell. What are you doing with your next 24 hours? I don’t know. May I ever? Will I never?

It took me a while. I’m 26. But I’ve learned to love living with Schrödinger’s heart. You always know and you don’t know. Always broken yet still in one piece.

As I return to reality one lesson remains. Thank you Kalong for showing me:

I want to date a girl who writes.

If you ever want to get coffee, I owe you one. Or a thousand. Or maybe a glass of one of those expensive whiskeys you like so much.

I hope Skype won’t freeze. Then again, if it does, I’ll just marvel at your beautiful freckles until you write your next post.

PS: Happy belated birthday!