by Meredith Siegel Cohen, Creator, Single and Striking Out

Love stories.

Are they just that? Stories? Does real life ever truly resemble Cinderella, Pretty Woman, Grease, Sixteen Candles — or one of the myriad fantasies I’ve treasured? Or, are they just fictitious tales that we so deeply want to believe in that we buy into them hook, line, and sinker?

I have romanticized love all my life. How it should look, how it should feel. But I have yet to know it fully. I don’t think the men in my past truly loved me. If they did, their choices would have been different. There were certainly moments of love. But enduring love?

Not yet.

Yet. What a powerful 3-letter word. It holds possibility. A flicker. A glimmer of hope. I have hope, but there are days when I feel it waning. It’s as if Hope and Reality are on each of my shoulders. Some days, I believe that love will find me. And other days, reality wins- reflecting a never-ending extension of my current life as a party of one – trying to find my way in a world by and large meant for couples.

Most recently, I got closer to what I want. I had hope, I was excited. And then I was let down, by my own stupid self.

After writing about ‘nice guys’ and attraction, this is what actually happened when I tried again.

Towards the end of last year, I went out with a lovely guy- sweet, funny, kind. Very kind. And generous. We went on a couple of dates, and while I enjoyed his company, I wasn’t feeling a romantic pull. So, I declined a third date. I came to regret my decision, thinking that perhaps I should have given it more time to take root.

After the new year, he reached out to me with a question and I used the opportunity to open myself up and be vulnerable. Definitely not easy to do. I was hasty in declining- would he be open to going out again?

Ever the gentleman, he did not hesitate to respond positively. Yes, he was interested and promptly planned a date. We met at a local winery. He jumped up as soon as he saw me with a hug and a huge smile. Which seat at the table would I prefer? Which wine would I prefer? He bought a bottle, and we laughed and talked. When I expressed my fear of never finding love, he shook his head vigorously, “You are a desirable woman with a wonderful aura. You will not be without love.”

They were generous, beautiful words I’ll never forget.

From there, we found chocolate cake in a Japanese restaurant, and enjoyed another hour of great conversation. Perhaps it was the wine talking, but I was excited and anxious to kiss him. To see if a kiss would induce the tug I so desperately needed to feel.

Finally, as we said goodnight, he leaned in.

And I felt . . . nothing.

A kiss is like turning the key in the ignition. It should rev up something- even the slightest spark.

He asked to see me again and I said yes because I wanted to. But as I thought about it through the next day, it seemed pointless. Why keep stringing this man along if I wasn’t physically attracted to him. Shouldn’t three dates and a kiss be enough data? So as kindly as I could, I ended it. And yet again, he was a perfect gentleman, understanding and sweet.

If only he had been a jerk! It would have helped. See there, Meredith, you dodged a bullet!

No such luck.

And I am left feeling very sad, and wondering why I feel this way. After all, we weren’t in a relationship. There was no untangling from attachment here. It was just three dates.

I think it’s due to lost hope once again. Each time I go on a date, there begins anew a small spark of hope- could he be the “one”? Could this be the love story I have waited for? And each time it’s not, it chips away at my belief that I will find the right partner for me. That while there are couples finding one another all the time, maybe romance simply is not in my future.

Why would this man be placed in my path, if not to fall in love? He was closer to what I want than I’ve previously experienced– a professional, a gentleman, kind, honest, generous, humble, smart.

Maybe it was to show me that people like him exist — that what I want isn’t crazy after all, and settling isn’t an option. Who would that be fair to? He deserves someone who feels that pull — who wants him the way he deserves to be wanted.

Intimacy is an important part of a relationship. I can’t sacrifice that for other qualities. I believe that would constitute a friendship, not a love match. Look I’m not blind to the ups and downs of a long-term relationship, where you don’t always desire your partner. Hell, sometimes you can’t stand to look at them or even hear them breathing! How I remember those days.

But regardless of whether we are 25, 55, or 75, the beginning of something should hold a little magic and the pull of desire.

Well, one thing I do know, if history is any indication, now that we’re no longer seeing each other, he’ll find his perfect partner. That’s what my breakups seem to do for others. Eye roll.

So today, I’m a little blue.

Hope feels tenuous. But not gone. I’ll be okay. The flicker will come back, and I will move ahead with faith in growth, possibility . . . and love.

When your hope dims, what helps bring it back? How do you move through those heavy days? Please share — I’m listening.

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