Fireworks and butterflies and the heat of a moment that is nothing but a mere moment

I haven't written in a while and I'm sorry for that. June tends to be that way every year. I am now a year older and closer to 30 and that scares me a bit. Only eleven months left of my 20's.

I was talking to this Irish guy about two weeks ago that sent me a podcast episode (Mel Robbins Podcast - 13 things I wish I knew in my 20's) to listen to on my drive from Windsor to Toronto. His mom had sent him the episode and he shared it with me too. I resonated with a lot of it, as I'm sure many people my age would. The thing is that most podcasts are put out there to appeal to the masses so it only makes sense that these lessons or pieces of advice would be quite broad and applicable to us all.

That being said, one of those 13 things was of particular interest to me, which is the point of what I wanted to write about today. It said something along the lines of "date people for who they are and not the potential of who you want them to be". Frankly, I had to stop the episode right after she said that line because I needed a moment to process before I could even listen to her explanation of what she meant by it. Date someone for exactly who they are and not their baggage, not their work-in-progress attitude, not their immature inability to be a good partner. They might have potential but that doesn't mean they'll reach it.

I thought back to a few weeks prior. I had met this really awesome guy in a bar. I was very heavily under the influence and not at all in a position to meet anyone. I was sitting at the bar in one of my favourite places on King West with my good friend. This guy comes up and sits next to me and tries to make small talk. I remember not caring much about what he had to say because my eyes were locked in on the bartender who was ignoring the crap out of my drink order and I just wanted to drink my troubles away. In an effort to make this guy go away, I told him that I'd only give him my attention if he was able to get the bartender's attention so I could get a drink. He smiled and yelled out bloody murder to the bartender as if someone really was chasing him down with a gun. I never got a drink so quickly in my life.

Now, stuck with my promise, the guy wanted my attention. Once I finally got a good look at him with my drunk goggles on, I realized he really was quite handsome. After a few slurred exchanges, smiles and flirty eyes, he got up and asked me to dance. Ok yeah he was not only hot, but he stood at a gorgeous height above me and kissed my forehead. I was rather enamored. Although we mutually wanted to take each other home, we settled for some stolen kisses and intertwined fingers. He said he would message me to plan something proper when we aren't drunk. I agreed.

A mere 48 hours later, he picked me up for our date. I mostly agreed to be picked up because I couldn't for the life of me remember what he looked like once I sobered up. I didn't regret it though. Not only did he have good taste in cars, but he looked fine as hell. Dress pants, button up white shirt, gorgeous flowy hair that just about touched his shoulders. Right, I remembered the hair. Soft-spoken, polite, opened every door. He couldn't take his eyes off me and quite frankly, I couldn't believe how gorgeous this man was. I think that if he had brought me flowers too, I would've sworn off any other man for the rest of my existence right then and there. That's how perfect that was.

I was a bit embarrassed because I had spent the 24 hours prior trying to remember our interaction at the bar. I had snippets of memory fill my brain and those snippets were far from the attitude I would've had with this beautiful of a man. He laughed when I said that and said he actually was the one who sought me out because he thought I was beautiful. I was blowing him off so heavily though and so I asked why he continued trying even though in those moments I had zero interest in anything other than my tequila soda. He thought our interaction was different than what he usually gets so it was actually quite refreshing. I was drowning in embarrassment.

One thing led to another and the lights were starting to turn off at the restaurant he took me to. We had been talking for so long that the whole place cleared out in the meantime and we were the only two left. The owner eventually came to greet us and told us how she was admiring us from afar and didn't want to kick us out because we were just radiating in each other's presence. I couldn't have imagined a better evening.

He drove me home and took the literal longest way home. We couldn't stop talking. Not a single pause, not a single defect. Eventually, even while parked in front of my place and about a dozen goodbyes and goodnights, we continued talking. Another hour in the car and my mouth was beginning to need water. He asked if I had tea. Of course I had tea.

Normally, I wouldn't invite a guy upstairs after a date. It's just not my style. But him? I didn't want this conversation to end. It was so good that I wanted to live in that moment forever. We connected in a way that I only felt before with one person. You guys know cause I've written about that guy so many times. Except this felt even better. I know this is an insane statement of me to make.

We both settled on sparkling water and sat back down, this time on my couch and continued talking. We talked like that until 5 in the morning, until we eventually fell asleep in each other's arms. A mean alarm woke us up at 7:30am. It was a Tuesday. We both needed to go to work. I had the best night I ever had with a man and all we did was talk. I was still wearing the same clothes from dinner. It didn't feel real. I didn't think real life had the ability to feel this good.

A week or so later, it all imploded. Shocker.

Although I'd like to put the blame on him, I'm not sure that's fair. I seem to have a knack for finding men when they're in their healing stage and they need to work on themselves. We all need love though, and I guess I give him grace because he was 6 months freshly out of a relationship and our connection felt great in the moment when you can lose yourself for a night and be vulnerable with another. I don't think that it wasn't real but I can appreciate the raw realization that dawns upon us when the night turns into day and reality kicks in. He wasn't healed and a connection like ours made him realize there were other things he needed to focus on. This wouldn't have been just a fling and so the realization that he was nowhere near healed enough for more, must've been scary. I can't blame him. Sometimes you really don't know that you need to step back until something or someone pushes your boundaries.

I was okay to let him go. I didn't want to date the potential of him or the love I desired. I was interested in him, but not the unhealed version of him. I didn't want to fix him. I didn't want to wait on the sidelines until he was ready to give me that unfiltered version I got to see that night. I wanted that all the time and he was not in a position to give me that.

On the other hand, I am healed. I am ready for more. I am ready to stay up all night with someone I vibe with and talk about every subject in the book, from A to Z and speak about everything in detail. I am ready to pour into someone but in such a way where we only complement each other and don't become co-dependent. Two whole people, completely ok on their own, who seek the companionship of one another. I don't need a project. I don't need insecurity or to keep looking at my phone waiting for a text or call to come in. I don't need to wonder about what they're up to, why they're not texting, or why they can't make time for me.

I listened to that podcast episode about two weeks after this whole thing imploded with the beautiful man. I felt good knowing that although I knew I made the right choice, someone else validated me. Date someone for who they are, and not their potential to be who you think they could be. This beautiful man could have one day grown into the partner that he gave me the impression he could be on that first date. However, he was not there yet and quite frankly, I didn't know whether that day was coming anytime soon. I couldn't wait for him to get there when he himself had doubts about what he could and could not give me.

I'd do a disservice to myself if I allowed someone to take up space in my heart if they didn't know that I like flowers and I want them often without having to ask. Similarly, if their day doesn't start with the thought of me and greeting me, well, why not? I don't want to find excuses for why I am receiving less than what I want and desire and dream of having. Love should feel good and secure and it should make me cheese my way through every day. The cool thing is that I've experienced snippets of this and I know it exists. Now it's more so finding the one that doesn't implode so quickly.

As always, thanks for coming to my Cez talk xo