Flying 2500 miles again for a second date
My story starts almost a year ago today, when my entire world flipped
I met this wonderful man while he was on vacation in my ski town. At work one day I had volunteered to pick up some clients from the mountain who were skiing-- which is completely out of character for me, but I had a feeling I needed to get out of the office and this was a perfect excuse. 4 of the 5 men showed up and loaded their gear into the SUV. Before we were leaving one of the guys asked me to wait a few more minutes for his friend who was still on the mountain but headed back down. Normally, I would have said sorry but no-- and that he'd have to get a cab (protocol at work) but something told me to break the rules and wait. This day was different, I had felt something different since the second I had woken up. It was almost like something important was going to happen, I just didn’t know what. I had even called my sister to check in with her on my lunch because I just “had this feeling” but everything was fine. I didn't get a look at the guy when he arrived and got in the car-- I was talking to his friend in the front. They were a funny, nice group of guys, they had gone to college together and lived all over the USA-- and went skiing anally together. I instantly clicked with these guys and it had felt like I had known them for years. During the small talk I had told them about some fun bars and restaurants in town and they told me where they were from. I remember one guy in the back, with a sexy French accent, telling me he lived in New York City. I remember telling him "That's my favorite city, I lived there one summer, and I've always wanted to go back." He said something along the lines of oh you should. When we arrived at my work we were all getting out of the car and it happened. I finally locked eyes with the French gentlemen whom I'd had such an awesome conversation with in the 45-minute car ride. He was tall, dark, and handsome-- 6'2 (which is great because I am 5'9) with ocean blue eyes. This doesn’t happen to me ever—but my knees went weak!
The next few days at work, he'd stop in and flirt with me for a few minutes. He would always invite me to dinner/dancing with his friends, but I always politely declined. I did this because I was utterly attracted to him, but he was here on vacation so presumably, it would go nowhere. I was trying to protect myself from these irrationally strong feelings I had for someone I had just met. Also, 6 months prior I gotten out of a 5-year relationship that left me wanting to stay away from men (for a while) after being cheated on. This didn't stop him. After 5 days of repetitively asking me out, on my day off, my phone rang: it was my manager-- a sweet 50-year-old lady who said "Bailey-- this nice, handsome gentleman is looking for you again and if you don't go out with him-- I will". I gave in a decided to meet with he and his friends for drinks. The evening was going great, his friends were sweet, and our conversations were amazing. We laughed all night and had a great, great time. I remember his friends talking about him when he was across the room telling me that he was the type of guy you marry.
The next day he asked me to hang out, but I bailed because once again-- I was afraid of getting attached. But I couldn’t stop thinking about him. I had to see him one last time. We spent a few hours together chatting and I left early—knowing he had an early cab the next day. That night I could not sleep. I had to see him again. So there I was at 5 a.m in the freezing cold sharing an extra long hug with him. And his cab sped away. I thought that was that and went home and with this sinking feeling in my guy for a few days. Why was this so hard?
Weeks later, I was blown away when he sent me a message out of the blue explaining he had been worried about me. We had a storm that had knocked down 10 power poles and left our city without power for over 5 days. I had tried to get him out of my head and was surprised (but happier than ever) that he had contacted me. Sooo, I made up a little white lie, that I was going to be visiting New York City that fall and that we should perhaps meet up for a drink. He immediately responded absolutely, and I decided I better plan a vacation to New York City.
Every few weeks he would contact me to check in with me, see how I was doing-- we would talk about the weather and how we were looking forward to my trip to New York. He told me not to worry…that he have everything planned out, all I needed to do is show up. This trip was all I could think about. I thought WAY too much about it. From researching the best restaurants to date night outfits. I even booked an appointment to have my makeup and hair done the night we were to meet up. But here is where I think I made a fatal mistake: I googled him. Only to discover he was even more of my dream man than I had known. He went to Princeton and worked at a prestigious company on Wall Street and was known for sports such as fencing—come on, did this man fall from the sky? He was too good to be true! We never had talked about the boring details of our lives such as college or our jobs, so it had never came up.
After months of anticipation, the big day was finally here: I was headed to New York! He wanted to meet instantly but I thought I should play it cool, so I told him I was available over the weekend… five days into my trip. We made plans to have drinks.
I was an hour late due to my poor subway navigation and had to stop at the minimart to chug a beer because I was so nervous. When I saw him walk in and start looking for me, all the feelings came back to me. Feelings I’d never experienced in my 27 years on this earth—a warmth I could feel in my bones. It’s hard to describe how I felt being with him again, but—I had felt like I was home, more than I ever felt anywhere else in my life. He was funny, clever, interesting and different to any other man I’d met.
We spent a few hours talking over drinks about our travels and music—etc. I was so nervous and knew I wasn’t being myself: the fun and relaxed girl that I was when he we first met but the chemistry was still flowing. Also, due to a little bit of liquid courage, all I wanted to do was kiss him. He asked me if I wanted to explore somewhere else in the city or go back to his place and listen to music/have drinks. I instantly said his place and we started heading that way. As soon as we were in the elevator of his building he kissed me—the kind of kiss you see two sharing in an elevator in a movie… and it didn’t take long for things to escalate at his apartment. I won’t get too crazy with the details—but it was mind blowing. I had told myself on the cab to meet him that I was not going to sleep with him, I was not going to sleep with him, I WAS NOT GOING TO SLEEP WITH HIM. I really liked this guy and even though we’d been talking for several months, we hadn’t spent much time together, so sex should be off the table, right? Looking back, I try to tell myself there’s an exception because we were 2,500 miles from each other and the circumstances are different. Things got hot and heavy four times, twice that night and twice the next morning. After he was in the shower I started gathering my things-- getting ready to go back to my hotel to freshen up and (hopefully) hang out with him later. The night before he suggested taking a boat ride to the statue of liberty or doing something touristy because he didn’t get out much and had never done those things even though he lived there. I remember falling even harder looking around his apartment and seeing how he lived. His apartment was much like mine—full of books and magazines, no television. He’s so old fashioned in some ways, I sometimes think he’s out of the 60’s. He had a photo of his parents who still live in France and cute knick-nacks along with a bike and some National Geographic framed photos (I’m a photographer so this was adorable). He eats healthy like me, but has a much nicer body which makes me insecure. Don’t get me wrong-- I’m a pretty girl and I have a cute body, but I’m not athletic. He spends a few hours at the gym a day and has rock hard abs. I remember thinking about all of this as he was in the shower.
When he got out of the shower I remember feeling this sudden awkwardness (possibly due to my overthinking.) He had this look about him, the type of look I’ve been shot/given the day after a one-night stand. He asked me what my plans were that day and I said I wasn’t sure, I was going to go home, shower and adventure later, adding ”if you’d like to join.” His demeanor wasn’t quite like last nights, did he have a slight hangover like me? Was I overthinking this? We kissed, and I was out the door. On that same elevator of his skyrise, I couldn’t help but think—I ****ed this up, I should not have slept with him- he thinks less of me. This was the man of my dreams and I will never see him again. When I passed his doorman, I couldn’t stop the tears from steaming. I went back to my hotel, showered and tried to sleep. A few friends invited me to watch football later that day and I obliged as it was my last night in New York City and I needed a distraction. He sent me a text me later that day, asking me how I was, how my day had been. I was just showing up to meet my friends, incidentally-- it was only a block from his place. It was a Sunday evening and this man is in a routine, so I didn’t tell him how close I was or invite him, my past experiences and society have taught me that if a man wants to see you—he will find a way. Even though it was a Sunday evening, I was hurt that he wouldn’t want to see me again on my last night. Then again, I acted as if he was someone I penciled in on this trip casually so maybe it was my fault. Either way, I thought this was the end of our story.
He didn’t contact me the next day to see if I made it home safe; or the next week to see how I was. The month after my return I had gone into full blown pity party mode. I was drinking more and binge eating. I felt like a failure. Like I’d be alone forever. But I had told no one because I was embarrassed. Embarrassed that I flew clear across the country to be a booty call. I was really hard on myself, I remember saying things like “What did you expect?! To have one romantic dinner and that would be it, he’d be in love with you and you’d be moving across the country? This is a handsome rich New Yorker. He’s an eligible bachelor and probably meets women on all of his vacations, you were just a party favor” I threw out all the photos we had taken together on his vacation on mine. I was determined to pick myself up and start over. I erased his number and started focusing on my life in my town. I hadn’t taken interest in any of the guys that had taken interest in me over the past year since I had met New York because no one even came close to making me feel that way. So, I gave in and went on a few dates, trying to push him in the back of my mind. But he was always there.
And out of the blue, there he was again. He finally contacted me out of the blue, about a month and a half after my return to see how I was doing. I responded, but I was very short with him. I’m not sure why I even replied because I was trying to get over him—but it’s HIM and things aren’t that black and white. He asked me what I was doing for Thanksgiving, said he may be coming back to ski, I told him I would be out of town for Thanksgiving, but I’d try to catch up with him that weekend if he was here. A lie, but I still didn’t want to make myself too available. That weekend came, and I reached out, but he ended up going somewhere else to ski. He reached out a few times in between, mainly to wish me happy holidays. I still had tried dating other people but there wasn’t even anyone who came close to him, so I did something a little crazy, AGAIN….
I wrote him last week and told him I was going to be in his area again in April and asked him if he would be around. He said he wasn’t 100% sure on his schedule to be honest but he’d try to be there and would love to have dinner and drinks. So once again, here I am: I am using my vacation time to fly across the country and see this man. I am going to do a few things different this time, like see him the day I get there and not go overboard on hair and makeup or overthinking…. I know I over romanticized things and kind of blew it with my nerves after googling him, but he really is the man of my dreams and I’ve never felt the way I feel when I am with him. Is this unrequited love? Why does he check in to make sure I am okay—but has never expressed how he feels about me?
I want to make a few things clear: I am not strictly going there to only see him. I AM IN LOVE WITH NEW YORK CITY and always have been. For years since my return home, I’ve ranted and raved about the city and talked about how I will end up there. My ex and I often fought because he knew how much I loved NYC but told me he would never consider it and I always made him feel less or like he was holding me back from my dreams. He told me he thought I secretly would resent him in years because the city life would never be for him and I know he was right. Before meeting Mr. New York my plan was to move there the following year. Maybe that’s why I am so into him- for the simple fact that he lives in the place that’s always felt like home, the place that makes my arms tingle and heart warm up with the simplest thought. Either way—I’d walk a thousand miles just to spend five minutes with him! Any input/advice would be very helpful!
