Well friends, it’s July and you know what that means... Yep, I’m back at my favorite summer pastime:
Online Dating! And boy, do I have some
stories for you!
In light of my new mindset to just make things happen myself
and stop waiting for things to happen to
me, I have spent several drunken nights over the past month on OkCupid,
checking out dude’s profiles and messaging those that stood out to me. I heard back from a couple of guys, one of
whom I really enjoyed chatting with. He
lives in Kalamazoo but whatever. This is
all just for fun, right? We made plans
to see a concert on a Sunday, which was an unconventional but exciting first
date idea. I was nervous, and anxious to
get my first first date of the summer over with. So down I drove, with every intention of
staying the night with a friend when the concert was over.
You guys. It was like
straight out of a freakin’ rom-com! He
was adorable, funny, and he laughed at my jokes. We shared stupid stories and sweet little
kisses. It rained during the outside
concert, so we bought ponchos and danced in
the rain while drinking beer. I agreed
to stay the night at his house (oops).
We had sex (double oops). It was…
terrible. OK, no worries, maybe it was
just the beer.
The next night, we hung out again, this time in GR. More of the same; good conversation, lots of
laughs and just as much beer. Then
sex. Again, it was the worst.
Later in the week, I drove to his house to cook dinner. Food was eaten, drinks were had, laughs were
laughed. Bad sex happened.
OK, what the fuck? I
don’t get it. I mean, the guy is
great! The conversation is never
lacking, he has a cat whom he lovingly refers to as Kitty Man. He’s a good looking dude. He has a house, a job, friends, etc. He’s spontaneous and comes up with the best
date ideas. So what’s the problem??
There’s no chemistry, no real connection. Something is missing. What is
it?? Ah, I see now. We’re missing The Spark. Without that, we may as well just have a
platonic relationship and perhaps become roommates someday. We can be friends, but nothing more.
What constitutes The Spark?
If I look back on the men with whom I have felt The Spark, I would say
that it’s an intense, almost cocky air of confidence. It’s being assertive, almost aggressive, in
his desire to shower me with affection.
Domineering. Romantic. Looking at me like I’m magic. And me reciprocating that urgent desire, that
thirst for affection.
So why was it missing here with Kzoo Man? Well, for starters, he wasn’t very
affectionate. No kiss hello, no holding
hands, no scooching closer on the couch so that our legs/arms/faces touched,
not-so-accidentally. And clearly no one has ever informed him of
the importance of foreplay. I felt like
he wasn’t trying very hard to impress me.
I’m not trying to play games here, bro; you just need to put some work
in.
I dwelled on this for days, as every encounter with Kzoo Man
became more and more platonic. Can you teach someone The Spark? Like, give him lessons on how to be
affectionate towards the person you’re interested in? Should that even be my responsibility, after
only two weeks of knowing this dude? I
mean, I was hoping for the best here, but swiftly realizing that this just isn’t
going to work out. I discussed my
concern with my two closest girls and, of course, my counselor.
“So, you think you need that spark for a relationship to
work?”
All three of them said this, almost verbatim.
OF COURSE I NEED THE SPARK!!! What the hell did you think we were talking
about here?? Of course I need The Spark.
Doesn’t everybody? Don’t you?
Have you ever even felt The Spark???
Wait.
Doesn’t everybody
need the spark? Or did I make that up? Am I searching for an illusion, a figment of
my own delusional creation?? This perfect emotion that may not even exist? It’s the thing;
the chemistry, the desire, the lust, the connection. The thing. The mother-fucking
Spark. I KNOW it exists, I just know
it. (Unfortunately, the last two dudes with
whom I felt The Spark were total goddamn douchebags [see the Enigma and the
Sociopath].)
So, called it quits with Kzoo Man. I’m bummed, but not heart-broken. We had fun; I can appreciate that for what it
is. And honestly, the timing kind of
sucked. I’ve got some other shit going
on that is going to seriously fuck with my dating attempts.
**If you’ve never had any desire to know my deepest, darkest
health secrets, especially those related to my reproductive organs, I suggest you stop reading now.
About 7 years ago, I found out that I had contracted
HPV. But not just any HPV, no; the
high-risk kind that could eventually lead to cervical cancer *insert sarcastic
cheer here*. Since then, I’ve had two
abnormal Paps, both of which led to a colposcopy; a not-so-fun procedure where
they rip out chunks of your cervix in order to biopsy the tissue to see if the
cells are abnormal. The first was
fine. The second, which was performed a
few months ago, was less than fine. I
was told that the tissue was at like a grade 2 of abnormalcy (Not a word? Well it is now, fuckers.). So yesterday, I had another procedure done,
this time to take more tissue to biopsy and to burn off the abnormal tissue
with an electrical current. [Wait,
is this real life or a goddamn sci-fi movie plot??] Anyhow, the procedure sucked, I cried, I
wouldn’t wish it on anyone. But it’s
done and over with (and no one is discussing the possibility of cancer at this
point (yet)). However, in my patient after-care notes, it
was laid out- like this is a completely
acceptable condition of terms- that I am not to insert anything in my
vagina for 6 weeks.
6 WEEKS. 6 weeks before anything may enter my
vagina. DO YOU REALIZE HOW LONG THAT
IS??? My vagina is going to atrophy and
wither away to nothing and I’ll never have sex again. Not that I’m actively having or seeking out
sex at the moment, but to know it’s not even an option for 6 weeks is discouraging, to say the least.
I’m still trying to get back into the dating scene, but can
you imagine how that conversation would go?
“You know Steve, I really like you, and considering this is our 4th
date and all, normally I would totally fuck the shit out of you at this
point. Unfortunately, I still have to
wait 3 ½ weeks before I can stick anything up my vagina. You understand, don’t you?”
**Side note: There’s a question on OkCupid that asks how many
dates you would have to go on with a person before having sex with them. I answered 3-5, because I want that to be
true. But the reality is, the last two
guys I dated, I slept with on the first night.
Oops.
August 30. Goddamn. How am I ever going to find The Spark with a
limitation like this???
Not to be deterred, I actually have a date this
weekend. Maybe I’ll find The Spark with
this dude, maybe I won’t. Maybe he’ll be
a weirdo loser about whom I can write an amusing blog post, maybe he’ll be
charming and witty and everything I hoped for and more. Maybe I’ll want to bone him on the first
date- and if The Spark is there, I will- but I absolutely cannot, and
I’ll have to figure out how and when to disclose my vagina issues with
him. [And also learn self-control.] But I’m on a mission, guys. I WILL
find The Spark again. I just have to.
