Am I Too Jaded To Appreciate A Healthy Relationship?

Or is there simply no connection?

It’s Monday night, the only day of the week I could squeeze in time to see Carlos. My face is jacked from a laser procedure (stupidly pre-purchased in a mad panic after my breakup with Jeremy when I decided I was too old and ugly to date anyone as hot as him ever again) and I told him we had to stay inside because my skin is healing.

The plan is for me to make him dinner and play video games or watch a movie. I’m still recuperating from money spent on the kids’ trips this summer so part of me wants to order pizza and call it a day. But I know I need to make an effort. If it were Jeremy, I’d have spent all week pouring over Pinterest on recipe ideas.

He and I used to have the same food tastes. Loads of snackables and appetizers over a full dinner any day. But Carlos is a bodybuilder and this guy eats. Like a real man-eating. The guy could eat ten steaks and burn it off in a single workout.

I stick to an easy recipe that allows me to use pre-cooked chicken in my freezer. Gotta save money. I don’t even bother to buy beer; he’s in a beer club and can bring his own damn alcohol, I’m not bothering with that after almost a year of catering to get the exact IPAs Jeremy liked. Nor will I pre-freeze glasses like I used to do.

Should I make dessert? The only option would be Carlos’ favorite treat, chocolate chip cookies. I don’t need the extra calories and I also don’t need him to get another reason to view me as wife-type material. My chocolate chip cookies are epic.

The last time he was over, we watched a movie in bed after sex. I caught him looking my way occasionally. “No dude,” I thought. “Don’t fall in love with me. Not yet. Please not yet.” Carlos nervously told me that he’s not sleeping with anyone else. I told him I wasn’t either and he let out a huge sigh of relief. He explained how he panicked earlier to female friends to get advice on how to broach the subject with me.

“I’m not banging anyone else,” I told him. That’s not to say that I wouldn’t bang someone else. But in the present tense, I am not.

These are all steps Carlos takes to edge us closer to commitment. I would have jumped at the opportunity with Jeremy. But with Carlos, I’m slowing the past as best as I can.

He arrives at my door and we passionately kiss.

This was an unfinished draft. I didn’t have it in me to go through yet another night that on paper, was perfect.

I’ve gone online to “shop” for potential suitors. It reminds me how lucky I am to have Carlos. I’m not going to find better.

And yet, I long for something more. I long for humor full of quick wit and banter. I long for someone who has his own place and doesn’t make excuses (which, to Carlos’ defense, are legit). I long for someone who is already at the top of his career ladder. I long for someone who keeps me on my toes.

I long to be on someone’s arm and feel like I’m the luckiest girl in the world.

Yeah, you know I’m going to say it: I long to feel like I did when I was with Jeremy. Feel free to mentally punch me in the throat, I deserve it.

We went out the other night and drunkenly made friends with a group of people in their twenties. The lesbian in the group babbled to him about how hot and amazing I am. The other women slurred that Carlos was wonderful and I must hold onto him.

I don’t miss him when I’m not with him. I don’t feel compelled to text him. When he calls me beautiful, I mentally roll my eyes.

I sound like someone who hates the guy. I have fun when we hang out. I am very, very appreciative of all his efforts. “Acts of service” is my love language and there’s nothing I could ask that he wouldn’t do if he hadn’t already offered. Although he’s not skilled at a lot of things; he’s not going to install a new light switch or do my taxes.

There are red flags. I’m not that much of a dick that I’m smack-talking a perfect guy.

Carlos lives with his parents. I get it; he sold his house after the divorce and interest rates are too stupidly high to buy anything. They live in a giant house in a swank neighborhood. It means I don’t have problems letting him pay for most dates (although I’d like to know his income because it’ll be a problem long-term whenever he eventually gets his own place). Still, it’s not fun always hosting someone at my house. Keeping my house moderately clean (even if it means just cleaning the toothpaste-laden sinks or changing sheets) is an extra stress that I don’t need.

He dabbled in drugs recreationally when he was younger. I’m not sure how I feel about dating someone who has done mushrooms and cocaine. He told me he occasionally smokes pot.

I’m very This-Is-Your-Brain-On-Drugs with the egg-smashing memories. It bugs me. Or I’m overly uptight.

Carlos grew up in Southern California and his family is Mexican. His extended family is giant and he hangs out a lot with his cousins. One of them is a member of a gang. Do you know anyone in a gang? I sure as fuck don’t. He has random stories about going to bars with his cousin and running into the cousin’s gang buddies.

Yeah.

The problem with these red flags is they’re not fixable. Interest rates will stay high for at least another year so I can’t make him buy a house. He can’t disown his cousin. I can’t change his drug-filled past nor can I expect him to change his pot habits when I’m not around. I can’t believe I ever insulted the musical choice of previous men who listened to country music when Carlos is into death metal. Give me Brad Paisley any day.

Plus, I still think Carlos isn’t very smart. Am I fishing for more reasons to justify my lack of interest? Or is it the Disorganized Avoidant in me, the one who only wants people not interested in me and runs from those who like me?

But like, for real, the guy isn’t very smart. It shows up in random ways, mostly in his lack of wit. Going out is fun but he doesn’t make me laugh. I’m a tough critic. A few weekends ago I visited a friend and her husband. Homeboy had me in stitches all night plus he had the confidence to accept self-deprecating humor. I forgot what it was like to be around a guy sharp on his toes like that.

Meaning, I forgot what it was like to be around someone crazy witty like Jeremy.

Carlos’ lack of intelligence pops up in conversation when he interjects with attempts to finish sentences off the ball. If I mentioned that I wouldn’t get a chance to hit the gym, Carlos would reply, “I can see that the mailman won’t bring the mail until noon anyway if the sky isn’t purple.” (No sarcasm, a genuine comment.)

It’s an exaggeration but if you’re going to extrapolate and make a hypothesis, it has to be somewhat in the vicinity of a plausible response. He’s a dumb blond minus the white skin, blond hair, and vajayjay.

Shouldn’t I value how well Carlos treats me?

Admittedly, being single sucks. Having someone to rely on and have defacto plans with is a marital perk, even if your spouse was routinely absent like mine was. If I want to see a movie, I can make plans with Carlos. If I want to try a new restaurant, it’s easier to convince someone you’re dating than friends. If I need help bringing my son’s new desk in from my car, he can do the heavy lifting.

I have two medical appointments this year where I’ll be put under. A significant other is the default driver and much easier to coordinate with than a friend who has her own family, job, and obligations.

I’ve been married. I’ve been single. I’ve been in relationships. Let me tell you: having a partner, assuming he isn’t cheating or abusing you, is better than being single. Sadly, my husband wasn’t very nice and he was getting happy endings at massage parlors so he wasn’t an acceptable partner. But being single later in life when all your friends are married is rough.

Before anyone comes at me, making new unmarried friends when there’s work and custody schedules to juggle is downright impossible. I’m not in my twenties with no kids and unlimited disposable income. When dating, it’s possible because both people have a direct interest in making schedules work and the goal is a 1:1 relationship (unlike friendships, which require nurturing with multiple people).

Last night, I was thinking about how I need to save boatloads more money to buy a place near my kids’ high school in the next 2 years. Theoretically, I could take side contract jobs, but that would take up all my free time(i.e. non-kid, dating time). Shouldn’t I be with someone who I’d choose over the option of being single and making money?

But when I think of ending it, my brain goes back to thinking how he’s wonderful to me and treats me like gold. I need to appreciate that I found someone like that who adores me.

As always, I’m incapable of trusting my intuition because I have none.