in-de-pen-dent

So. The last two weeks have been a flurry of interactions with men. Older ones. And I've come out of it still single, and glad.

The most recent episode was with a guy I know through the grad school at Notre Dame. I met him at a party in January, and enjoyed his (slightly inebriated) stories. He didn't particularly notice me until a few weeks ago, at a concluding-the-semester party at another student's apartment. Then he asked me out for coffee.

So we went for coffee and had a great time. A few days later we met to walk around on Notre Dame's campus, got caught without shelter in a downpour, hid under the overhang of a monastic building until it let up, went to the grocery store, and hung out at my apartment making smoothies.

But there's always a fly in the ointment. He told me that night, "There's a few things you should know." (That statement is always a red flag.) "I'm a lot older than you, I'm still in love with a woman with whom it will probably never work out, and I've recently started seeing someone. But I find your company delightful."

Okay, I thought; I can always use another friend. And everything seemed more or less okay, except that he was flirtatiously touchy all night, blotting my rain-smeared mascara with his fingertips and such. And then when he went to say goodbye, he gave me a hug...and it was WAY too much of a hug. And I'm very sure (although he denies this) that he kissed my neck.

And after that I was extremely uncomfortable. It felt completely wrong. And he continued to invite me to do lots of one-on-one, datelike stuff with him -- watching movies, going for walks, heading to the Farmer's Market, etc.

I don't like messy relationships with blurry lines of friendship and more-than-friendship. So I e-mailed him and told him that I didn't think we should be spending so much time together, particularly if he's seeing someone. And that I prefer relationships characterized by clarity, and this one wasn't clear.

I got a voicemail from him the next day informing me that he was hurt that I didn't call him or tell him face to face, and asking me to meet him over coffee to talk about it. So I did, last Sunday after church. I explained to him my problems with the too-much-hugging and the neck kiss (although, like I said, he denied it. The only other thing it could have been was boogers from a running nose, and I really don't think it was that). He told me that he cares about me, finds me attractive, knows that I've been suffering and has wanted to help, and that the relationship he's just gotten into with someone else is more like a blurring of the lines of friendship and not an actual relationship.

But I stuck to my guns. "I've never had anyone take care of me," I said. "I've always been the one to take care of everyone else, and take care of myself. When I break down, I do it alone. I fix it alone. I don't know what to do with someone's help."

"I don't date people that I haven't known for awhile," he said. "And I really want to get to know you. I regret that it's working out like this."

"Me too," I said. "And I enjoy your company. But this is what's best for me. And I'll be okay. I always am."

So I said a cordial goodbye and walked away.

It was rough -- for about an hour I wondered if I'd done the right thing. But I know I did. I don't know on what kind of terms he wanted me, but sorry, I don't actually believe that men and women can be intimate friends and stay friends only. I told him this. And for myself I know that I do not want to be some guy's possible back-up plan in case whatever he's doing now doesn't work out. Been there. Hated it. And dude, my friendship is not there for the taking. You have to earn trust, and his body contact with me made all his words of only wanting to be friends into lies. And I don't trust that.

And I don't need some guy to come into my life and fix me. I've had a hard time the past three or four months, but I'm not broken. Just struggling. I don't need fixing. All I want is kindness and support and company. In short, a friend. I can take care of the rest. I've done that all my life. Someone who has an express purpose of helping me or making me better inspires resentment in me, because I become less a friend and autonomous being than some sort of project, some sort of dependent. And I have never been that, or sought to make other people that for me.

So I made a good choice. And right after that coffee meeting I went to spend the day with Meg and Phillip, who have become my family.

It makes me feel so much better about being single. I have chosen this. I have decided what is best for me, and I have acted on it. That's more like me than anything else, and I've been missing that about me lately.

So I'm no longer desperate. And the medication is helping tremendously.