Mr. Pineapple came back a couple weeks ago and we’ve seen each other twice. But let’s back up a bit.
Before he left, we’d hung out 9 times, and I ended up asking him if he was dating anyone else. He said no, I said no. ‘Twas a brief convo. He left, we talked a bit, I sent him a postcard. He came back! And so did my need to ask the big questions and figure shit out. (Also, he totally saved my postcard.)
I never really wondered about “us” while we we’d be hanging out, but it plagued my brain when we were apart. So this past Friday after dinner, I worked up the courage and sweat glands to ask him to settle my confusion. I told him some things I’d been thinking (“I like you, this is fun, I wanna keep doing this, and I’m curious to know where you think this might be going”), and then made him share his thoughts with me — something he’s never ever done, hence my confusion. He told me he’s still figuring out his life ever since he moved here in July and got laid off in January and went soul searching in March (all fair points), and that he’s not sure if he wants a girlfriend or if he wants to date around or what. In fact, it turns out he is dating other people — though not yet sleeping with anyone besides me. Hoorah. I’m glad I asked, and he said he’d tell me if he does sleep with someone else. (And then obviously I’ll stop sleeping with him, but he doesn’t know that yet.)
Overall, the conversation was very good and healthy and productive, as miserably uncomfortable as it made me feel. Seriously, it was just what the doctor ordered. We continued our plans for the night and were able to have even more open conversations as well as a lot of fun, but in the morning I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was now irrevocably off. I told him that I’d leave it to him to reach out to make plans once we were both back from our respective travels in May, and he affirmed that he knows the ball is in his court. We’ve texted a bit since, but I’m stopping all initiations from here on out.
I felt nauseated and numb all weekend, and while I was drunk and hungover a lot, this felt like something different. It’s not that I thought he was my boyfriend, but I thought there was something there. Even if there was, I’ve learned that it doesn’t really matter as long as the dude is going through some internal shit (see: Army Spy).
So, now that my feelings for Mr. Pineapple are slightly shattered and I might possibly never see him again, I got back on the apps and have started talking to two guys from Hinge (each of whom knows a different friend of mine). Also, I’m on a soccer team with a pretty cute Midwestern guy who lives 15 minutes from me. :D
Besides, Mr. Pineapple is a Taurus and let’s all remember that last year I got a palm reading that said I’ll have one major love a little later in my life that will be “worth the wait.” I’m not expecting to meet him until my 30s, and I figure dating all these bozos in the meantime is great preparation for when I finally do.
Settle in, team, because I’m baaaaaack!