Lately, I have a new favorite song. Most of the time, a song catches my attention based solely on the melody. I become so entranced by the music, the lyrics barely register. However, with this new favorite of mine, I am noticing—and enjoying—both music and lyrics of the song.
Possibly it's due to the fact that I have been on several more dates with Mr. Songwriter, who has, well...surprised me. Though his potential had a slow start (despite the fact that his tried-but-true bathroom line actually did work to get a first kiss), Date #2 had only slight weirdness, and Date #3 was pretty wonderful.
The "slight weirdness" that erupted on Date #2 began with a phone call about an hour before Mr. Songwriter was scheduled to pick me up for a Halloween-themed show he was taking me to downtown (thanks to his co-worker who had passed free tickets around to all his school employees).
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Mr. Songwriter: So I'm not sure if I told you, but I work with my ex-girlfriend, and I ran into her today.... I was crossing my fingers that she wasn't going to the show tonight, but unfortunately she is—and bringing various family members with her. I didn't say anything about the fact that I was going with you, but now I'm thinking I should have? I might call her and let her know that I will be there with a female companion...just so she doesn't get upset or anything...so she is at least prepared...?
Was he asking my advice? Did he really want to know what I—the woman he was taking on a second date that night—thought about how best to protect his ex-girlfriend's feelings? Reminder: I've been on a date with this guy once (if that drink-at-the-bar even counts as an actual date). Other than that, all I know about him is what Big D and Mamasita have passed on about their dear friend. I remember hearing mention of an old girlfriend living in town that was fairly recent, but I hadn't gotten the impression it was all that serious. Maybe I was wrong?
But, honestly, even if I was wrong about the degree of heartbreak—have Mr. Songwriter and I reached that level of comfort on the second date where he feels it necessary to share intimate romantic history with me?
I wasn't sure really how to respond—if memory serves me correctly, it was something along the lines of, "uh, okay...," followed by, "you don't have to take me if you would rather go with someone else and avoid the issue." However, he quickly insisted he wanted to take me to the show, then debated out loud whether he should call her or not to let her know that a girl was going with him, and finally questioned if I would feel awkward or weird being put in that situation. He genuinely asked if I would feel uncomfortable running into his ex-girlfriend.
Okay, now, I'll be honest...maybe this makes me an unaffected, uncompassionate person...possibly my heart has turned black from my own all-encompassing heartbreak...and maybe this will label me as a senselessly callous person, but...
Why the heck would I care?!?
(...at least I'm honest, right?)
After I hang up the phone, I have to laugh, still dumbfounded and wondering whether I should care about my presence upsetting one of his girlfriends past. I really just...don't. At all. In fact, I cannot comprehend why I should care if Ms. Heartbroken has to leave the show early because she is bawling her pretty little pitiful eyes out and cannot stand to be in the same room as Mr. Songwriter and some chick (me) who, for all she knows, could be his cousin (I seriously am turning into such a bitter divorcée...).
I really wanted to warn him before we left. This is me, Dumbfounded Divorcée—of course we are going to run into her at the show. There was really no doubt in my mind that dumb luck would, once again, prevail. At least it provided extra entertainment for the night:
The rest of the Date #2 was surprisingly enjoyable (not to mention the next few dates that would follow). Though Mr. Songwriter is not my type—in fact, he is the absolute polar opposite of my ex-husband—we still seem to have this curious connection and chemistry. While my ex-husband was a ultra-conservative, suit-wearing, financially successful, southern good ole boy, and Mr. Songwriter is an artsy, guitar-playing, tattooed, tree-hugging-democratic dreamer, the conversation between Mr. Songwriter and I is never difficult. The ridiculously comfortable feeling that we have around each other has been there since Date #2. The way he seems to know exactly what will make me run screaming away and what is the right amount of affection or attention is simply eerie. And, just like music and lyrics, our song seems to play in perfect tune.
And, so far, I don't want to stop listening.
Lesson #8 in Post-Divorce Dating: When your date makes serious second-date mistakes, like acting as if his ex-girlfriends are all scarred for life because he broke up with them, don't give up on the potential just yet—with certain songs, the music and lyrics need to play out a few verses before you start to pick up the tune.
Forever fearless,
Dumbfounded Divorcée![]()
Possibly it's due to the fact that I have been on several more dates with Mr. Songwriter, who has, well...surprised me. Though his potential had a slow start (despite the fact that his tried-but-true bathroom line actually did work to get a first kiss), Date #2 had only slight weirdness, and Date #3 was pretty wonderful.
The "slight weirdness" that erupted on Date #2 began with a phone call about an hour before Mr. Songwriter was scheduled to pick me up for a Halloween-themed show he was taking me to downtown (thanks to his co-worker who had passed free tickets around to all his school employees).
Was he asking my advice? Did he really want to know what I—the woman he was taking on a second date that night—thought about how best to protect his ex-girlfriend's feelings? Reminder: I've been on a date with this guy once (if that drink-at-the-bar even counts as an actual date). Other than that, all I know about him is what Big D and Mamasita have passed on about their dear friend. I remember hearing mention of an old girlfriend living in town that was fairly recent, but I hadn't gotten the impression it was all that serious. Maybe I was wrong?
But, honestly, even if I was wrong about the degree of heartbreak—have Mr. Songwriter and I reached that level of comfort on the second date where he feels it necessary to share intimate romantic history with me?
I wasn't sure really how to respond—if memory serves me correctly, it was something along the lines of, "uh, okay...," followed by, "you don't have to take me if you would rather go with someone else and avoid the issue." However, he quickly insisted he wanted to take me to the show, then debated out loud whether he should call her or not to let her know that a girl was going with him, and finally questioned if I would feel awkward or weird being put in that situation. He genuinely asked if I would feel uncomfortable running into his ex-girlfriend.
Okay, now, I'll be honest...maybe this makes me an unaffected, uncompassionate person...possibly my heart has turned black from my own all-encompassing heartbreak...and maybe this will label me as a senselessly callous person, but...
Why the heck would I care?!?
(...at least I'm honest, right?)
After I hang up the phone, I have to laugh, still dumbfounded and wondering whether I should care about my presence upsetting one of his girlfriends past. I really just...don't. At all. In fact, I cannot comprehend why I should care if Ms. Heartbroken has to leave the show early because she is bawling her pretty little pitiful eyes out and cannot stand to be in the same room as Mr. Songwriter and some chick (me) who, for all she knows, could be his cousin (I seriously am turning into such a bitter divorcée...).
I really wanted to warn him before we left. This is me, Dumbfounded Divorcée—of course we are going to run into her at the show. There was really no doubt in my mind that dumb luck would, once again, prevail. At least it provided extra entertainment for the night:
Mr. Songwriter: "I think we actually have pretty good seats, from what I—oh, no, slow down, slow down, let these people get ahead—oh! nevermind, she saw us. Okay, smile and wave, smile and wave... Ugh, she doesn't look too happy.... Oh well, I gave her the courtesy call to warn her—what more could I do? At least hopefully we're not sitting near her...."Meanwhile, I'm now convinced that Ms. Heartbroken and Mr. Songwriter must have broken up mere weeks ago after dating for a year or so. Turns out, this "relationship" ended back over the summer after only six months. Therefore, at this point I'm thinking—is he crazy arrogant, or is he really just a nice guy?
The rest of the Date #2 was surprisingly enjoyable (not to mention the next few dates that would follow). Though Mr. Songwriter is not my type—in fact, he is the absolute polar opposite of my ex-husband—we still seem to have this curious connection and chemistry. While my ex-husband was a ultra-conservative, suit-wearing, financially successful, southern good ole boy, and Mr. Songwriter is an artsy, guitar-playing, tattooed, tree-hugging-democratic dreamer, the conversation between Mr. Songwriter and I is never difficult. The ridiculously comfortable feeling that we have around each other has been there since Date #2. The way he seems to know exactly what will make me run screaming away and what is the right amount of affection or attention is simply eerie. And, just like music and lyrics, our song seems to play in perfect tune.
And, so far, I don't want to stop listening.
Lesson #8 in Post-Divorce Dating: When your date makes serious second-date mistakes, like acting as if his ex-girlfriends are all scarred for life because he broke up with them, don't give up on the potential just yet—with certain songs, the music and lyrics need to play out a few verses before you start to pick up the tune.
Forever fearless,
Dumbfounded Divorcée
