Dating Diary - One Woman’s Story Part 1
What’s it like to be a single gal in the big city, looking for love after some major heartache? One writer shares her ups, downs, and strange encounters in our new column.|
ant an inside peek at the ups and downs and wild, weird times that can happen when a single gal gets out there looking for love? Then check out Happen’s new (and true) Dating Diaries, which presents its first installment below—by single girl Maggie who lives in New York City. She’ll chronicle her love life on Happen every other week, alternating with our single guy-about-town Matt, whose diary debuts next week. Let their romantic successes (and misses) serve as a reminder that dating is nothing if not full of surprises!
Tuesday, 9:10 p.m.
Am sooo depressed. D. and I have been broken up for three weeks now and there’s still no light at the end of the tunnel. I cry on the hour, every hour and am too sad to leave the
house. Besides, no one needs to see me looking like this much of a wreck. I’m moping around in my rock tees and granny panties. It’s not a good look.
|D. and I have been broken up for three weeks now ,and I still cry on the hour, every hour.|
I’ve been consoling myself with Sex and the City reruns and can’t believe how much I’m like Carrie and he’s like Big. Relationship writer in the big city who’s in love with a guy who can’t commit and likes dating models. Ugh. Even my mother (who lives in Korea, for Pete’s sake!), said on the phone the other day, “Maggie, you’re exactly like Sarah Jessica Parker in SATC.”
Have got to get out of this funk. Uh-oh. Charlotte just told Carrie that it takes half the time of the length of your relationship to get over it. That’s not true, is it? I don’t think I can take four months of feeling this bad.
Wednesday, 2:25 p.m.
Sylvie is trying to drag me out of the house tonight by dangling an invite to some art collector’s party at a downtown museum tomorrow. Along with an open bar, she promises there’ll be cute and financially solvent men. Should I go? Or will I end up spontaneously bursting into tears over D.—this time in public? Maybe I’ll try putting on my good-luck dress and some makeup and see how I feel. Maybe getting my flirt on will make me feel better. Rebound guy, here I come…?
Friday, 12:11 a.m.
My mojo’s back! At least a little. I met a gorgeous, gorgeous guy at the party. It started off dull—and I made the mistake of wearing my 4-inch heels, which top me out at 6’, so I was towering over the majority of guys there. I was so close to turning tail and heading home right then. Nothing’s worse than thinking you’re never going to find someone as good, or as tall, as your ex. Actually, scratch that, there is something worse: thinking he’s going to find someone better than you. And in New York City, where there are at least three smart, beautiful women to every one of their male counterparts, the odds are really stacked in D.’s favor. Dang.
But I lucked out tonight. Sylvie’s crazy roommate, Irina, introduced me to Ivan — aka, “the most handsome boy she knows” — and things started to look up. Ivan’s pretty perfect on paper. He went to Harvard, works for a hedge fund, is 6’3”, has dark hair, blue eyes and best of all, he’s single. He also rowed at Harvard, according to Irina, which would explain his totally buff bod. Yum.
It’s funny. I was feeling really shy about meeting him. Being with D. for eight months pretty much dried up my flirting-with-hotties mojo, so I actually had to force myself to flirt! Which was kind of weird. I guess it’s like going to the gym: You gotta use or lose it.
Anyway, I made my move at the open bar, where he had two glasses of wine in each hand. “Did that exhibit drive you to drink, too?” I asked. He laughed and offered me one of the glasses. We got to talking, then dancing—he even fought off a drunken dancer
who was getting a wee bit too close to me for comfort. How chivalrous is that? It was also really nice to have to look up at him, too. He’s the perfect height for me. Sigh. At the end of the night, I pulled my signature “Will you walk me out?” move.
|When he leaned in for a kiss, I gave him my cheek instead. Without skipping a beat, he asked for my number...|
He’s pretty smooth himself. He guided me into a waiting cab with the hand-on-the-lower-back move. But when he leaned in for a kiss, I gave him my cheek instead. Without skipping a beat, he asked for my number and I handed it over. I may be broken-hearted, but I’m not stupid! I wonder if, or when, he’ll call…
Sunday, 10:00 a.m.
Still no call from Ivan. Did I read him wrong? Chase him away by giving him my cheek instead planting one right on his lips?
Sunday, 3:15 p.m.
Just back from brunch with the girls and Robbie, my best gay bud. Main topic of conversation? Men, of course. They all told me not to worry that Ivan hasn’t called yet. Guys apparently don’t call a girl they just met over the weekend. They’d rather keep their options open for the weekend and usually call early in the workweek. I think that’s silly — and kind of gross — but I guess it makes sense in this shark tank of a town.
I don’t know. Dating again seems like it might be fun, but it also seems like a lot of work. The thought of having to tell yet another person my whole life story is just exhausting. When you’ve invested all this time and effort in someone and it falls apart, it’s disheartening to have to start all over again. And all this game-playing, will he/won’t he call stuff? Annoying. I just hope that I don’t feel this ambivalent if — no, when (positive thinking!) — Ivan calls. Despite my reservations, and bruised heart, it would be nice to go on a date with a handsome man…
Tuesday, 11:00 a.m.
Ivan and I have been texting! Cute, flirty messages, but no mention of meeting up yet for a date. Hmm… that’s a little strange. Maybe that’s what dating’s turned into since I’ve been off the market? Luckily, Sylvie’s promised to do a little research via friends of friends on Ivan for me. That’s good, because there’s nothing much turning up on Google. My biggest question of course, is whether he’s a nice, truthworthy guy. Or is he — like D. and so many other men in New York I’ve met — just another player? And will I even find out, or will it all end here, with just these few short messages?
Yikes, I just got an email from Sylvie claiming she's got the scoop on Ivan. She says I should call her immediately. Will it be good or bad news?
Maggie Kim is a musician (maggiekim.com) who’s living and dating in New York City
Click here to read the next installment. Click here to read our guy writer's diary.