May? How is it May?

Battersea Power Station on a spring evening

My entries for the last couple months have been mostly pictorial. I guess I just haven't had the words. I'm going to try and find them again.

Since rock bottom, I've managed to get some job interviews. Nothing yet, but I feel like the momentum I'm gathering is leading towards something. I just need to keep plugging away.

Adela moved back to the States a few weeks ago, which was a brutally hard transition. It felt like a break up. We had spent most of our days together for 8 months, and her presence in my life and flat had become so integral to my sense of grounding and balance. As always, life goes on, but this was the hardest goodbye I've had since Jelena moved back to Sarajevo last summer.

I've more consciously started dating again, as the cynicism and disinterest of winter slowly begins to melt away. But the fact is, that I haven't met a single person since the fall that has even remotely piqued my romantic interest. Everyone bores me, and makes me feel boring at the same time. I'm still hung up on November, I think. There's nothing worse than finally meeting someone who seems amazing, and then watching it fall apart before it even begins. And when nothing else of consequence presents itself, I guess you remain holding onto that idea of promise, of untold potential.

I don't want to be one of those people that pines after someone they barely know. I'm not that person, and I always tell those people to move on, to stop being stupid and sad and to get over it. I just find that whole situation unfortunate though, because it was my eagerness that fucked things up, and killed something before it had the opportunity to get good. I think it could've been really good.

But it wasn't, and it isn't, and I need to keep an open mind and try to have faith that there are still interesting, engaging people in this city that are worth the time and effort. But the last season has reaffirmed that regardless, I'm fine. And I could be fine forever, if that's how the cards are dealt.

The Waiting Game

If there's anything worse than the general awkwardness of dating, it's the waiting: waiting the appropriate amount of time to text/call after the first date; waiting to get a text/call after a nice date; waiting in-between dates for the next date; waiting to get over someone; waiting to find someone new; waiting, waiting, waiting...

We're a culture that craves instant gratification, instant pleasure, instant results, but you can't stick two people in the microwave for 30 seconds and expect to create a nice, warm mug of love when the timer goes off. No, things are never that easy. In the real world, you just end up with two dead people and a criminal lawsuit. And then you have to clean the microwave.

In short, blurg.

Sometimes London Makes It All Better

It's amazing how quickly things turn around in life, and in London. What a difference a month, a week or a day - or just a good night's sleep - can truly make.

I was walking home today along the Thames with the sun shining down on me while I listened to Patrick Wolf's "The Magic Position." Some of my best moments in London have been walking alone along the Thames listening to music that fits perfectly in the moment. And when the sun bursts through the clouds after days of rain and grey, it makes you take a look around and recognize how beautiful things really are. It brings me back to centre.

I've got two dates arranged next week - two dates that came, more or less, out of nowhere - with people who both seem worthy of the aforementioned butterflies. But moreover, I'm more in-tune with the fact that I see a dozen faces everyday that I could easily fall in love with. The opportunities abound. There's no reason to get discouraged. Life is good. London is great. I am really happy.

London really does make it all better sometimes.

(Not) Finding Love (In All The Wrong Places)

I went on a few dates recently with someone who was kind and sweet and smart. The conversation was easy, and the company was good. On our last date we walked along the Thames holding hands and enjoyed a good-night kiss; by all accounts, quite nice. A third date was planned, but I was having serious second thoughts: there was no spark, no butterflies, no elation when I received a text message or phonecall.

I've been talking with several friends about the realities of love and dating. It seems, generally speaking, that there are two broad camps, and the line dividing those camps hinge on one rather ridiculous notion: butterflies. There are those that demand it in a relationship, and those that are willing to keep an open mind and work around the fact that sparks may not be there initially.

I saw this recent love interest as a real test as to which camp I stand in. On paper, I believe all people have value and are worth the time to get to know. I don't think you can judge your compatibility with someone based on whether or not they make your knees weak. But at the same time, all I really want is to find someone who makes my knees week. There's nothing more exhilarating, more grounding, than feeling that way about another human being. I need to believe that we live in a magical universe where fantastic things really do happen; where someone amazing will storm into my life, and the romance will fall from the sky like rain.

And so I cancelled the third date. It was an awkward and sad conversation that stretched to 40 minutes, instead of the 10 minutes it should have taken. I felt so bad to disappoint a decent, gentle person who, on so many levels, is looking for exactly the same things I am. What's worse, they responded that they were beginning to feel butterflies for me. That really killed me. Lately I've been mostly on the receiving end of heartbreak, and this was a good reminder that it's just as terrible on the other end. My heart is just too fragile for dating, sometimes.

But I will lift up my chin, I will straighten my collar and tie, and I will head out onto the beautiful streets of London and live my life. Just the idea that someone amazing is waiting out there for me makes being single a lot easier. It makes everything a lot easier.

And so I wait.