Date #156: "Dominic"
Dominic was an English guy in my circle of friends in my 20s, and I had a HUGE crush on him for ages. We smooched once or twice, but it never went further than friendship.
This past weekend I had a brunch date with a British guy who now lives here in NY. I'm normally skeptical about a brunch date -- I generally think it's a good idea to have some darkness and booze to relax a bit around someone new -- but it seemed like it was the only time that worked for both of us. Let's-call-him-Dominic was smart and perfectly nice and had the kind of charming smile that I like -- but I'm just not sure the zing was there.
If I hear from him, I'd be happy to go out with him again -- if not, no harm done.
Shocker of the week -- I got this email from Mr 2010 (and since I don't particularly care if he discovers the blog, here it is in its entirety):
Hi, yes, I am safely alive, thanks. I'm really sorry about last Sunday. I don't have a worthy explanation... I barely got out of bed all day, and then when I saw your text it was already late and I felt like a big jerk. I've been trying to figure out how to talk to you about it since then, but not very successfully, obviously.
It's a longer, bigger story than I can do via email right now, but I've been a bit of a mess recently. It's not something I'd want to inflict on anyone else. I like you, but I have to deal with my crap right now. I hope you understand, and I hope you can forgive me for being such an inconsiderate ass.
I hope you're well. Thank you for the concern, too.
So -- that's that. Better late than never, I suppose? Anyway, my main thought was: whew! Dodged THAT bullet.
I haven't felt a need to write back. Done.