Missing the man I wish he was

This morning, I found myself writing a message to someone that shocked me. I was asked “how are you? You doing OK?” Simple questions, but in this case they were loaded. My response was equally as simple, “Yeah, I’m doing alright. I just miss the man I wish he was.”

I suppose to truly understand, there has to be some background. It’s been years since I’ve seriously dated anyone. Hell, it’s been years since I have even met anyone that I wanted to seriously date. That all changed on the weekend on June 20th; the weekend of the International Gay and Lesbian Aquatics Championships. With my team hosting* I had no expectations of doing anything but swimming and volunteering when possible. That all changed…

An adorable 5’5” blonde haired, blue-eyed boy, rocked my world. Sweet, simple, innocent and affectionate, this boy literally swept me off my feet and melted my frozen heart. After a fantastic night and day together touring the city, we each took flights to our respective lives; him back to Utah and me back to work in Arkansas.

My love affair continued via email and phone conversations for a week until I decided I needed to see him. Three weeks after our meeting, I flew out to Salt Lake City (SLC) for the first time and spent another fantastic weekend sleeping in his arms and getting to know him better. Although there were apparent differences between us, it didn’t matter. I ignored the yellow and red flags that were being raised and allowed myself to sink into my image of what we could be for each other. The weekend ended and once again I returned to Arkansas, unintentionally leaving a piece of myself behind.

Almost immediately, I decided we needed to see each other again. I booked another ticket to SLC and counted the 11 days until I could once again be wrapped in those arms and look into those blue eyes. This past trip, the flags were harder to ignore. The obvious differences became more obvious and the disparities in what we wanted became impossible to ignore. I realized that who I thought I was falling for was my imagination of who he was. The reality was very different. At no fault of his own, the boy who swept me off my feet quickly put me back down.
Strangely enough, I am not that hurt… at least not by him. I did this one to myself, but I also rescued myself. I caught myself before I got too lost in my fantasy to see the reality and recognized that, somewhere out there, someone exists who will match with me without either of us having to change our wants or desires “too” drastically.

All that said, I am OK, I just “miss the man I wish he was.”
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*meaning we were all running around with chickens without heads