CVS Romance (From 29 to 31: Volume 3)

Context

Over the last few weeks I’ve posted a couple of blogs “inspired” by the journey from the end of my twenties to turning 31. The first one was a look back at an incident in my late 20s that deeply showed me the trust of the Lord in the piece of His handwork that is me.

The other blog was about my pursuit of discipleship and risk associated with that.  In that one I promised to write about my pursuit of a partner for this journey over this last year plus.

Annnnd Action…

I want to re-iterate …These stories are descriptive of my experience, not necessarily prescriptive for yours, though I do believe some applicable truths may be sprinkled in, or at least something that won’t make you feel so alone in your thinking.    

13 months ago I wrote this blog about being 29 (for 3 more days) and single.  I finished that blog with the line….

“So, 30 and single… Here I come! …Lord Willin!

31 … and single?  Ehhhh… we’ll see, but I wouldn’t necessarily bank on it.”

So…How was 30 and the first month of being 31 for me in this area of life? I’m glad I asked myself on your behalf…

Not long after writing that, I took a chance. It was someone that I’d known for a while and it kind of surprised me almost as much as it surprised her. 

I didn’t plan on it, but in the period of a couple weeks I went from good friend, as we were both squarely in each other’s “Friend Zone,” to having strong feelings, wanting to spend more time with her, and debating with myself about whether or not to “go for it” as my car trailed hers back into town one night from a class we were taking. 

Quasi-dramatic Textual Reenactment

Me: “You’ve been here before.  You’ve liked girls before. There are lots of great women.  You know the drill.  Just sleep on it and you’ll be fine in the morning. You’re patient. If you still want to tomorrow you can go for it then. This is what you do. No need to be hasty. That’s what keeps you out of trouble.”

Myself: “Yeah, that’s true, but you’re not being patient right now.  Right now, you’re being passive.”

I: “Ugh. Just keep driving”

I drove for 10 minutes mostly in thoughts I don’t remember, but I’m pretty sure they involved a lot of uncertainty and feeling of opportunity to be brave slipping away to logic.

As the time to make a decision that night dwindled the conversation picked back up.

Me: “Ok God… if you don’t want me to do this let someone, ANYONE, call me or text me in the next thirty seconds”

Myself: “Onnnnnnne.   Twooooo.  Threeeee.  Fouuuuuur……………… Tweeeeeennntttyyyyy Niiiiiine……. Thiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiirrrrrrtttttttyyyyyyyyy”

Oracle Flip Phone: “                   “

Me: “The really slow thirty count didn’t work?   uhhhhhhhh”

You see normally…

 

However, This time I knew when the hotline DIDN’T bling. #PlotTwist #NotDrake

I picked up my phone called her and told her to pull over.

Before I knew it, I was sitting in her car outside of a CVS, nervously telling her my feelings in stereotypical over-communicative fashion, because I didn’t trust that I was communicating clearly. 

This wasn’t me.

I would take a chance, but I was calculated. My emotions were generally under control. I was a calm man, but here I was in a CVS parking lot late at night, busting a comfortably established friend-zone to pieces with a sledgehammer of blabbering and uncertain words. 

.

It was weird, but she was kind. She sought the Lord for a few days, but ultimately wasn’t interested in navigating this dynamic shift in our friendship.

I sat on it for a couple days, including an afternoon of solitude at the office and felt the need to follow up for clarification and potential follow up pursuit, because, as some know all-too-well, my hope is a phoenix that has pretty much never met ashes it can’t rise from. 

She cleared things up for me and promised to put in a good word for me with other women, a kind consolation. 

Then I took it, processed it, and as quick as the feelings came, I grieved what could not be.  Then the feelings slipped away pretty quickly with nothing remaining but the familiar pang of wanting the story I’d created and desired in those two weeks and not being able to have it, rather than being specifically about pining for her. 

Then those feelings slipped away too. 

Friend-zone reconstructed!  Whew!

But what the heck was that all about God? 

I don’t know what His plan was in it, but I know what I got from it. Not long before that I remember worrying that I’d “matured,” “perspectived,” and “wisdomed” my way out of deep feeling. 

This helped me realize I could feel more than I had thought.

I could be nervous. I could be something other than put together. I could really like someone with reckless abandon in an unfastened way.

It had been a while since I had done that, yet it was perfect because it was so neatly packed into a three week period. But it was legitimately, one of the weirdest, and sweetest, somewhat hard and confusing 3 week periods of my life.

Well… that was over… and it was only March…and den….?  

More to come RILL soon… Lord Willin

See Volume 4 “Make Gatsby Great Again”

 

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