J: Dancing with Mr. May

Last night was my dancing date and I have completely mixed emotions about it. Though, now that it’s the next morning and I’ve had a little time to process, I figure it’s a good time to report in…

So, I’ll start off saying that this was definitely a date! We met up at a spot where we’ve danced before and left from there to head to one of his favorite “honky-tonk” spots. A friend of ours from dance classes was at the first place and a little confused (and I think hurt) when we left early for the 2nd spot and she wasn’t invited along. But, this not being my show, I wasn’t going to be the one to extend the invitation.

I let Mr. May know when he first asked me out (and again when we started off the evening) that it would need to be a fairly early night for me since I meet my running group for an early jog on Saturday mornings. Typically, I try to be home by 11 or so on Saturdays so that I can survive the run…especially in the summer. (Yes, I realize that this early curfew makes me a bit of a loser but we all do what we need to do, right?) Last night, I told him that I’d probably need to leave by midnight and knowing that he’s a late-late night guy, I even offered to drive separately so he could stay as late as his little country music-luvin' heart desired. He’d have none of that.

Honestly, in the back of my mind, I was thinking I’d probably end up deciding to skip the run and just enjoy the night. However, after 6 hours of dancing, my feet hurt. Badly! I’ve just fairly recently recovered from a foot injury and apparently am still not used to that kind of marathon dancing. While I was truly enjoying all the 2-steppin, my aching muscles, ever growing blisters and flagging energy level was seriously cutting into my fun. So, when I mentioned a little after midnight that it was getting late and he ignored my hints and insisted on more and more dancing I was (understandably) frustrated. Finally, it was almost 1 and the band had returned from a break and started up again and he was leading me onto the dance floor again, I firmly told him “One more song”. We left after that but he wasn’t happy about it…at all. But I wasn’t happy either. He had ignored something that was obviously important to me, and it left me feeling very disrespected.

But, here’s where the mixed emotions come in. A “dancing date”, is apparently very different from just going out dancing. It was really a great experience (and extremely intimate) to be somewhere with the intent of just dancing with one person instead of flitting from guy to guy. We danced constantly and our bodies got closer and closer and closer to each other with each song. Very, very sexy. After all of my many dance classes’ emphasis on the importance of a good frame it was quite freeing to drop the structured arms and perfect hand placement and just…move. With all that physical closeness though, I was surprised when by the end of the night he hadn’t tried to kiss me. He didn’t even attempt it! But then again, by the end of the night, as I mentioned, both of us were just a little bit grumpy with each other too. And while we got to a better place on the drive back to my car (he apologized for keeping me out later than I had wanted, I apologized for making him leave before he was ready) I might have still been giving off “it’ll-be-another-30-minutes-before-I’m-even-home-and-it’s-already-almost-2:00-and-I’m-totally-not-gonna-make-it-to-my-morning-run” vibes that might have been interpreted as “stay away.”

Thinking about my no-kiss disappointment on the way home I realized that much of it probably stems from the fact that the last time anyone even attempted to kiss me was in JANUARY…and that was a random sparkle-shirted-boy who just might have been gay. Does he even count? Pathetic, huh? When he left for a work trip earlier this week, my Bestest single guy friend’s parting words were: “Have a good time. Kiss a boy”. I thought that surely last night, that would happen. Is something wrong with me that it’s been 8 months, and over 8 dates since anyone’s even made an attempt. Ouch. That’s not good for the ego.

But more mixed emotions, here…I really don’t think that (even if he had kissed me) Mr. May and I are destined for that happily-ever-after. We dance well together. We have great fun arguing with each other about the ‘right’ way to do a particular move. We enjoy teasing each other about who is leading what step. We have good chemistry. We’re both always smiling when we’re together. But the reality is…we haven’t gotten much deeper than talking about our favorite dances, our favorite dance spots, exactly how to do that waltz move that we learned last week, the benefit of good dance shoes, etc. But even through discussions centered around our one favorite topic, (and probably the only thing we have in common), I’ve been able to pick up hints that we’re pretty different in regards to the way that we view the world.

But I went into this date knowing that. And accepting it. And planning to have a good time anyways. And honestly…hoping to discover that I hadn’t actually forgotten the fine art of kissing.

So, where does that leave us? I think it’s safe to assume that we didn’t mess up our “friendship” dynamic too much. I’ll have to see if anything feels awkward between us when I see him in class tomorrow. (Well…if my feet have stopped hurting enough to allow me to even go to class!) Do I text him to say thanks for the great time? I think I will. Because, despite the whole disrespect of time issue, I really did have a blast!

And in regards to the late night date…maybe I DO need to lighten up. Maybe I should have been okay with staying up until all hours. And honestly, I probably would have, were it not for the fact that my feet were in agony and he just didn’t want to sit down. He wanted to keep moving. And after 6 straight hours my feet (and body) just couldn’t anymore.

But really, that late night stuff…it’s just not me, and it never has been. Probably never will be.

Just another indication that there is not long-term potential with this one. Although, I really hope that he’s still willing to be short-term fun. And next time, I’ll insist on driving myself and meeting him there!