Dear Diary,
I’m dating someone! His name is Ken. Unfortunately, he is not the guy with kind eyes or the one who helped me with my essays, but he does for now. Ken is a few months younger than me, works fixing planes at the military base nearby, and was suggested to me by a current roommate. Ken drives a white pickup truck and has paid for me this whole time.
I feel a little bad about him paying since I’m not really into him but a part of me likes it. It reminds me of Paul, my ex from when I used to live in Paris. I met Paul through church and I felt that we stuck to a religious, heteronormative template of dating: I was the pretty one who needed help translating everything to English, and he was the one who’d pick me up at my place and buy me artisanal ice cream at Gianrossi’s, where we’d sit and have long conversations. I liked spending time with Paul (at the time I thought of him as the boy version of me), but I felt he didn’t care about me much so I when I moved back to the US I broke off the relationship. And then there’s the fact that Paul is openly racist. So no, I will not date Paul anymore, even if he is handsome and his parents are ambassadors and has a sexy Spanish accent (huge plus in my book).
I feel bad about Ken paying because up until now, I planned on cutting things off with him. I’m sure he doesn’t earn much over in the armed forces, and we’ve already gone out to eat three times. I just don’t feel a passionate connection to him, if I can be honest. I’m not repelled by him, that’s certain, but if you’ve read my previous articles you’ll see that in my Dear Michael post that I’d be with a guy who is sweet, smart, and hardworking. Ken is definitely sweet, probably hardworking, but I’m not sure about the college part. And now I’m wondering if I should keep this as a criterion for my ideal guy. Because… gosh… I’m starting to get attracted to Ken. Wow!
<Three weeks later>
Wow! I’m starting to feel the slow burn and I’m glad to feel that. Ken’s a regular guy, the good kind, with a gentleman-like edge to him. Let me tell you about him. He is taller than me, has the kind of fair skin that looks pink (my secret pet name for him is strawberry milk man), is muscular (ooh), and has blue eyes. He’s on the quiet side and I appreciate that, since as an introvert I get tired easily from talking. He always wears jeans, a T-shirt, and sunglasses when we go out. He likes walking and I do too! That’s usually what we do when we go out: we grab a coffee and walk around downtown Davis, but lately I want to deviate and try something else.
Here’s what we have in common: We’re both easy-going, the oldest child, have the same name as our same-sex parent, and were prohibited from reading and watching Harry Potter by our mothers when we were younger due to it being “witchcraft”. I get the sense that we both had one of those ridiculous religious backgrounds that influences our perceptions of dating and the world, but I definitely reject this template since it does not serve my true self. But it is familiar and somewhat comforting, since I benefit from him being a provider. (Of course in the future I intend [and genuinely desire] to contribute financially and emotionally in our relationship). Why wouldn’t I let myself be taken cared of now? I think I need to be cautious. I don’t want to let nostalgia lead me down the wrong path.
But it’s nice to walk around town with a tall hunk who buys you food and picks you up and texts you when he’s almost at your place. It sure beats staying at home daydreaming about Michael, and I prefer living in reality and not a fantasy. My reality requires effort, but it’s real, it’s mine and I have a say in the matter. And for those reasons I will continue to date Ken, listen to him carefully and generously, and brush my hair nicely before walking out the house to his truck.
Sincerely,
Amy Lee
AmyLeeThinks 