Ten Dates with Ten

Am I in a relationship? I think I might be in a relationship.

I am still seeing the same guy.

Last night we went for pho and over noodle soup he said, “You HAVE to come back to my place and watch Adam Schiff’s closing remarks at the impeachment hearing. Have you SEEN that speech? It’s amazing. Jeezus, what a brilliant mind.”

“I think that’s the hottest thing anyone’s ever said to me.” Talk about knowing your target market. And yes, reader, we did indeed watch said closing remarks, and the opening ones, and after that, some old clips of Obama at the National Press Club for good measure. Hot.

It is strange to navigate this place of making room for another person in my life after being so very solitary. We have had some disagreements and it pains me to talk them through, but I refuse to let them sit unaddressed; I will not build up grievances. I ask myself if I should be pickier about Ten’s occupation and then I remember that my future exhusband was barely employed and this guy has an actual job he goes to, sometimes six days a week. I find he has left things in my house, a sweater, a cell phone charger, his toothbrush on the bathroom sink, and I want to return all of it to him right away, and when he says, “Don’t worry, I’ll get it next time,” I feel a sense of being wanted crash up against my fierce independence, softening my hard shell.

Sometimes I think he’s a hot mess — and he is human with a complex history, an immigrant, black, far from his family. Sometimes I think his complexity is what I like about him. Sometimes I think *I’m* the hot mess with my unresolved divorce, my feelings running hot and cold.

There are places we are clearly not well matched. He is a carnivore, I am decidedly not, he likes to have music playing all the time, I like a very quiet house. He is an occaissional smoker, something I find impossible (people still smoke, it is very bad for you, you absolutely have to quit, and he says, yes, I know, I will try). We have twice hit up against one of us needing alone time at the wrong time. He likes to drink and smoke weed and while I enjoy a nice cocktail or the random low key high, I am generally sober person.

Had I actually been paying attention when I read his profile, I would have passed him over for smoking alone, but I really liked the way he looked and when I heard that French Haitian accent, well… He told me that he showed up at that first date with a real “Meh, what the hell” attitude and then got hit by lightning when he saw me. You, person looking for a match out there in this weird world, should have a date smile at you the way he smiled at me when we met. Apparently we are matched in other ways, though the gooey, glittery, chemical part won’t hold up over time without the other stuff working out.

“Come over, I’m making steak for dinner.”

“Hahahaha. No. I’m not a meat eater.”

“Come over, I’m making steak and I’ll cook salmon for you.”

It was really good.

Adam Schiff’s closing remarks were eloquent and moving.

We watched them while I leaned up against Ten. He put his hands in my hair and we talked about how the tenor of dialog in Washington sure has changed since Obama was in the White House.

I am still seeing the same guy.