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My Ex Comes to Visit. Part Two.

I often wish I was one of those people who, when faced with a period of uncertainty, would make it a point to get extra sleep, eat nourishing, empowering meals and meditate quietly on how everything happens for a reason and so therefore, there is no reason to worry.

But as we all know, I’m not.

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My Ex Comes to Visit. Part One.

I don’t really know what turned things around for My Ex. Actually, that’s not true, I do know. But that is not my story to tell, so I won’t. But I will say this. Ever since that call in July, he has never wavered. Not even once. There was no back and forth or indecision.

But as we’ve all seen, I’m not the easiest person to “date.” I can be insecure, needy. I can get paranoid, I can drink too much. Sometimes all those things at once. In the beginning of the three months before his visit, I was so nervous he would change his mind that I would regularly get hysterical and freak out and and accuse him of ‘playing me’ and shriek things like, “I won’t tolerate this! I won’t!!”

Then, the next morning I would call him up and say in a meek voice, “I’m sorry.” And then in an even meeker voice, “Are you still coming?”

And his response was always the same: “I’m still coming, Tracey.”

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Tina Weighs In.

“Okay. I have to stop you right there.”

“Yeah,” I said with a laugh. “I figured as much, Kanye.”

“I need a glass of wine for this.”

“Yeah, I figured that too.”

“Or a bottle,” she muttered.

I sighed. I’d just revealed to Tina that My Ex had come to visit.

And she was not happy.

This was not a surprise.
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…One.

I was ready.

At least, I had been ready. That morning.

Now that evening, I was sick with anxiety.

I’d spent the day cleaning my apartment, getting a much needed, much resented manicure, and drinking an exorbitant amount of coffee to keep me going. I was too nervous to eat but by 9pm, I was becoming dizzy from lack of nourishment and excessive caffeine, so I shoveled in a handful of Fritos.

Of course, that was when the downstairs buzzer went off.
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Three…Two…

And so that’s what I did.

I went on Date Eight, Date Nine, Date Ten and Date Eleven. I stuck to the promise I’d made to Lux, and when I met guy I liked and he asked me out again, I went.

But as much as I tried to keep an open mind, still, my head just wasn’t in the game.

In fact, one guy put it perfectly when he said, at the end of our date, “I enjoyed meeting you Tracey, but you didn’t really seem there.”

He was right.

Which is why I never wrote about any of them.

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Five…Four…

“You know what you should do?”

“What?” I asked, as I warily eyed the contents of her enormous cup. We were in a conference room waiting for McKenzie so we could have an events brainstorming session for the Office Health & Wellness CommitteeLux was on a cleanse and the sight of her green juice was making my stomach turn, as I recounted my own experience with a juice cleanse. I took a sip of coffee to try to settle myself.

“You should put an ad up on Craigslist for guys to come audition to be your boyfriend!”  She said joyfully. “It’ll be great! We can list what you’re looking for and then have them all come and compete with each other to show why they think they’re best for you!”

I cocked my head to the side. “That has got to be the most ridiculous, and dare I say, dangerous idea you’ve ever come up with.”

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Date Seven. Or, Date Six, V. 2.0.

“Oh no, oh no, oh no,” I thought. “This is too much.”

As we followed the hostess to our table, my gaze moved around the elegant glass domed room that was criss-crossed with large metal piping that ran from the floor to the high ceiling. Oversized art deco chandeliers hung throughout the space, giving off a comforting glow. Our cozy table for two was set off to the side, with a crisp white linen tablecloth and two delicately arranged napkins.

My immediate thought was, “Fuck. I am so underdressed.”

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Jigsaw Puzzle Singles Event: Mother/Daughter Edition.

“Why hasn’t anyone tried to puzzle-piece us yet??” Tara cried, as we collected our drinks at the bar.

I laughed. “Relax, we’ve only been here five minutes.”

She sighed.

“Now remember,” I instructed. “We’re undercover. No mention of the blog, okay? Undercover.”

“Undercover,” she repeated, nodding. “Right. No mention of the blog.”

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Sick Day.

He was almost to the door. Soon, he’d be gone.

I called after him. “Hey Marc, wait!”

He turned back to me. “Yeah?”

I began rummaging around in my wallet. “Can you get me a pack of Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups while you’re there? Like the family-size pack?” Marc was off to Duane Reade to up our stash for the Office Gum Culture Task-Force. I found a 5 dollar bill and waved it at him. “But I mean, the mini-size, but in the family bag?” I sighed and shook my head. “Sorry, I’m not feeling well. I’m not making a lot of sense.”

He approached my desk and took the cash. “Sure, no problem.”

“Thanks,” I said. Then I turned back to my computer and tried to focus.

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Living, Working & Dating as a 40-Something Single in NYC

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