Date #12: Sailing

So Connor took me sailing this weekend for our second date.

I've actually never been sailing before, but I alway wanted to. It's undeniably romatic-sounding.

I had this image of he and I sitting on his boat with the sun beating down on us. He--no shirt on, muscles fully exposed--me--scrawny, and thereby wearing every article of clothing I could possibly get away with without looking like an Inuit--just lying there next to each other, holding hands and letting the sea carry us away....

Well, we were sort of carried away...to our deaths.

See, there was wind. There was LOTS of wind.

It wasn't like it was a storm, but the wind caused the water to be pretty rough. The boat went up and down, and up and down...and my stomach went up and down and up and down. Having never been sailing before, I never even thought to ask about sea-sickness pills. I also discovered that being out on the ocean brings out the same feeling that being up in a high building does--you get this overwhelming anxiety over the vast expanse lying right underneath you.

And we all know how much I love heights.

So there I was, clinging to the door that led below deck watching while Connor fooled around with different things on the boat. He was trying to make the best of the situation:

CONNOR: This is kind of fun, isn't it?
ME: Me...ha...goo...dee...fi...no no.
CONNOR: What?
ME: Yes, thank you, I'm having a lovely time.

Inside I could feel everything I'd eaten in the past two days gathering together to form an army and lay seige on the deck of Connor's boat.

On the bright side, Connor was being really sweet in response to my complete mental breakdown. He kept coming over to me in an effort to ease me out of the fetal position.

CONNOR: Don't worry. This can still be the perfect second date.

More like The Perfect Storm...

The wind seemed to calm a little bit--as did my nerves--and soon enough Connor and I were laying out just as I'd pictured--smiling at each other and having a great conversation.

Then the rain started.

It was at this point that we decided second dates should always be conducted on land. He brought the boat back to shore and we went out for--you guessed it--seafood.

It was a really nice restaurant, not to mention that we were in Newport. I'll 'fess up, I really did think I was something special--being on a date in Newport eating at a nice restaurant in Newport with a through-and-through well-to-do Newport guy.

Newport, Newport, Newport!

"Oh yes, Muffin--Connor and I took the boat out this afternoon, then had a little lunch at Flau de French Blah Blah--ugh, now if only the maid will stop stealing from us."

As we ate, Connor looked more and more like he wanted to say something. Finally, I broached the subject.

ME: Is something wrong?
CONNOR: I'm not sure I want to do this.
ME: Do what?
CONNOR: Be dating.

Wha-huh-huh?

CONNOR: I just got out of a really long relationship, and the break-up was...it wasn't good. But I still think I might have feelings for my ex--

Do you ever feel like it's only your exes who have absolutely no trouble moving on once they've broken up with you? It's only other people's exes who seem to hang on to hope.

CONNOR: I mean, I definitely like you, but I'm just not sure I want something right now.
ME: Well, I'm not sure I want something either. I just like hanging out with you.
CONNOR: But these are dates right? I mean, this is a date?
ME: Yeah.
CONNOR: Well I'm not okay with that.
ME: We could call it something else, like...Lobbying?
CONNOR: I'm sorry, Kev.

So there I was with a plate of calamari in front of me and a sadness in my chest--shut down like Chinatown.

I left as soon as we were done eating. Conversation was stunted to say the least. I drove home listening to Meatloaf the whole way, because his music serves the brokenhearted well (okay, it wasn't that bad, but I was pretty bummed).

And some nights you're calm and nice...

I got home and Connor called.
I hit reject.
He called again.
I hit reject.
This was the voicemail:

CONNOR: Hey Kevin, it's Connor. Um...I don't know what I'm doing. I don't want to stop seeing you but I also don't want you to think that I'm ready to like...be in a relationship, or anything, cause I'm not. But I get the feeling that's what you want, and you deserve that. You really do. I just...I probably will want that again and when I do I would want it with you, but I don't know when that's going to be, so if you could just give me some--

Message ended. New Message.

CONNOR: Sorry I got cut off. Anyway, um, I don't know what the hell I was saying in the last message, but I just would like to see you again, but I don't want you to think that anything can come of it. But I don't just want to be friends, because I know that's really condascending, but I don't want to necessarily be more than friends in an intimate kind of--Ugh, I sound crazy. Look, I'll call you. Have a good night.

ME: Is it bad that his potential insanity makes him that much more adorable to me?
FRIEND: Yes. Face it, if he weren't cute he'd already have a nickname like Crazy McCrazy Pants.
ME: I don't think so.
FRIEND: Then what do you think it is?
ME: The thing is, leaving two messages on somebody's voicemail is--Well, it's not cool. It's not what you're supposed to do when you're playing "the dating game." He put himself out on a limb, and...I like that. I like that it's not guarded and that he made himself vulnerable like that.
FRIEND: Do you like it enough to pursue nothingness with him?
ME: I don't know.
FRIEND: Just don't like him because he refuses to play the game. You have to play the game. It's the game.
ME: But I don't want to play the game anymore.
FRIEND: Well that's ironic, cause he just put the ball back into your court.

It would be a lot of possibly wasted dates. Then again I shouldn't talk considering what I'm about to embark on tonight...

...Don't hate me...

I was feeling vlunerable after my day on the open seas--and spontaneous, and unwanted, and insecure, and confused and...and...

"Hi Scooter, this is Kevin. Did you still want to go out on that date?"