I had practically given up on dating. I had been disappointed too many times, I was exhausted by all the games, and it was starting to seem, well, not worth it anymore. But the undeniable spark I felt when I first met him renewed my hope, and made me think twice about throwing in the proverbial towel just yet. Everyone, including him, told me how difficult it is to date a musician. But somehow, I thought that I was stronger than that - that I was independent and secure, and that it surely wasn't as difficult as they all made it out to be.
At first, my confidence was reassured. We spent some wonderful times together. I had more fun with him than I had had with the sum of all the men I had dated over the past year. We laughed and had good conversation. We listened to great music and ate great food. We played in a wind tunnel and laid on a bed of nails. He taught me to jump down stairs on a bike. Good times.
But then he left on tour. With him on the other side of the country, or in some cases in another country entirely, our actual dating reached a state of seemingly perpetual hiatus. As the tour rolled on, our phone and email conversations became increasingly infrequent, and regrettably one-sided. He assured me not to take it personally, that he was, in fact, interested, but that he was just focused on his career. At some point, I came to accept the fact that we just can't date right now. I resigned myself to hoping that our paths would cross again. (Lesson: Be careful what you wish for!)
Now and then he shows up at my gigs, unannounced. And, once the butterflies settle, I land right back in the center of square one. My attraction to him, the beginnings of feelings for him, all come rushing back, and I find myself once again wanting that which I cannot have. It's a vicious cycle, really. One that precludes me from fully letting go, moving on, and being happy with someone else. And although I realize that I shouldn't want to be with him, and that his lifestyle and my wants and needs don't work together, I also realize that these kind of choices often have no founding in logic.
So as the mad dashing of the holiday season begins to subside, I wish my little drummer boy peace and happiness, wherever in this vast world he may find himself on Christmas day.