TiVo for Life
Wouldn’t it be great if we could invent a TiVo for our lives? Just think of the options if we could not only go out to a late dinner and still catch Desperate Housewives, but could also review video of that meeting that you half-slept through and save a winning argument for future reference. Right now, I’m wishing I could go back and look at Tuesday night to find a clue of what went wrong.
They say you should always trust your gut, which is also known among my gender as “women’s intuition”. I should have known when “Pool Boy” and I didn’t set definite plans for Saturday night that something wasn’t right. When I didn’t hear from him by Friday afternoon, I sent a text message asking if he was still interested in seeing The Prestige the next night. He responded that he was talked into dressing up and being dragged to a Halloween party, could we make a rain check?
That’s when the red flags flew up. We spent a significant portion of our conversation on Tuesday discussing how unenthusiastic we were feeling about the holiday this year. Not to mention, if roles were reversed, there’s no chance I would take an invitation to a party over plans with someone I was interested in. I’m really not expecting another phone call from him, but I would like just one more look at Tuesday night, to see if there were any signs that I missed.
I’ve got to admit, there are few times in life when I envy reality TV stars, but I think being able to look back at your actions and learn from them is incredibly valuable. As silly as it sounds, wouldn’t it be helpful to have a coach watch and critique your performance on a date? Although some people today consider “advice” a dirty word, my friends have given me insights into my dating life that I’m just not removed enough to get perspective on. When I’m wrapped up in the exhilaration of a new prospect, they can see things with a grain of salt, or let me know when I’m overreacting.
John Cusack in High Fidelity was a beautiful example of our need for closure. I’ve always maintained that I would rather hear the cold, hard truth of “I’m just not that into you” than have a guy just disappear into thin air. Is it too much to want to know what went wrong, even if it’s as simple as a simple lack of chemistry? If we’re all honest with ourselves, it’s not the other party’s feelings that we’re worried about saving, but the avoidance of an uncomfortable conversation that motivates what I call the vanishing approach.
Now, I know we hadn’t established a long-term connection or anything yet. I’d only seen the guy twice, I get that. My concern is that we still have a mutual friend. If I want to see her at one of the pool games I don’t want to have to consider whether or not he’ll be around, or have him misinterpret why I would show up. When everything is left unsaid, it can only lead to misunderstanding.