We don’t often get much snow where I live. Maybe one or two snowfalls a year and it usually doesn’t stay around long.
This February, however, we did get a good snowfall…and it stayed. So, too, I hope will the lessons I learned about what I want, need and (gasp!) expect from a guy I am dating.
On the morning of Saturday, Feb 13th, I woke up to snow. I put on my big (and rarely used) snow boots and went for a long walk around my neighbourhood.
A couple of blocks from home, I am walking down the street and a man calls out to me. I turn my head and see him walking towards me, down his (shoveled) driveway. I’ve never seen him before. He is in his mid-50’s, nice looking and very friendly. He seems determined to talk to me.
Shortly into our conversation, we are talking about life, death, loss, and grief. He tells me about the recent passing of his dad. I tell him about the death of my husband twenty years ago, and that I am a writer.
“I’d really like to read something you’ve written,” he says.
I tell him I will drop off a copy of my book, “A Widow’s Awakening,” at his place.
“Thank you,” he says. “But how will I get it back to you?”
“No need to,” I say. “Just pass it on to someone else.”
“Okay,” he says with a smile.
But as I’m walking away, I think to myself…hmmm…now isn’t that interesting? Here is a guy who, within minutes of meeting me, has asked to read my writing. Whereas the guy I am currently dating—and have been for six months—has not once expressed an interest in doing so.
Alas, like many women who are dating a guy they really like, I had filed that niggling concern under: “Pending—To Deal with Later.”
Back home again, I get ready for an afternoon date with my fellah. At least, I think it’s a date. Even though we’ve been seeing each other for half a year, we are still not intimate. In fact, we don’t even hold hands, let alone kiss. I have raised my concerns about this with him before…once (six weeks ago). He gave me his reasons for not taking the relationship to the next level; I accepted them.
He arrives at my place at 1 pm. The snow is starting to pile up on my driveway and front walk. Because we get snow so rarely, I don’t even own a shovel. He rings my doorbell and I open it to find him stamping his boots clear of snow.
I give him a big hug.
“Gee,” I say, “I don’t even have a shovel! Do you?”
“Yes.”
“Can I borrow it?” I ask.
“We’ll just go buy you one,” he says.
“Bzzz!” I say to myself. Wrong answer, Dude.
I look at him and tilt my head. “But it’s probably not the best time to buy a shovel,” I say. “I mean, everyone in town is going to be doing the same thing. We don’t get snow that often.”
“Then go tomorrow and buy one,” he says with a shrug.
“But tomorrow,” my annoying but hopelessly romantic inner voice whispers to me, “is Valentine’s Day. Surely, I will not be spending the most romantic day of the year shovel-shopping by myself?”
And (sentiment aside) practically speaking, there will be even less shovels available for purchase tomorrow than there are today.
So I try a different tactic. “Couldn’t I just borrow your shovel for this snowfall?” I ask (again). “Then I’ll go buy my own later on, when there won’t be quite such a run of shovels.”
He doesn’t answer. I gather the answer is no.
Not one to give up easily, I try one last time. “You have a snowblower, too, right?” I ask.
“Yes!” he says.
His sudden enthusiasm perplexes me. I know nothing about snowblowers, so I say, “But they probably don’t work very well with this wet snow, right?”
“Oh no,” he says. “This is the BEST snow to use a snowblower on!”
By this point, we are at his truck. He opens the door for me, and I climb in. Okay then, I think to myself, I guess I’ll be buying my own damn shovel and shoveling my own damn driveway.
“Or maybe,” whispers my annoying little inner voice, “he’s going to surprise me tomorrow, on Valentine’s Day! Maybe he’ll just show up, out of the blue, and shovel my sidewalk and driveway! Or…maybe he’ll load his snowblower in the back of his truck and drive the few blocks to my house. Oh, that would be so sweet…”
Funny the silly things we fantasize about…when there are far more important matters we should be addressing.
After a walk in the woods, we go to one of our favourite haunts for beer and a (very) early dinner. We sit by the fire for hours, chatting and laughing. We talk and yet we don’t. The elephant in the room—the lack of intimacy in our relationship—sits in the corner, watching and waiting to see if today will be the day it gets discussed. With tomorrow being Valentine’s Day, the topic seems relevant. The absence of romance and passion has become blatantly obvious to me, never mind uncomfortable.
I keep hoping he’ll bring it up. Afterall, he’s the one who is holding back.
He doesn’t.
I pay the bill then we both stand up to leave. The elephant in the corner does, too, knocking over everything in the vicinity as it does so. As it follows us out the door, it takes out the door and a couple of walls in the process. It lumbers down the path behind us and climbs into the back of the truck. Deep down, I suspect this relationship is over. An elephant is big and heavy and can cause an awful lot of damage when its presence is not acknowledged.
Inside the truck, we are both quiet. The elephant in the back goes to sleep, having given up on us for tonight. Tomorrow is a new day.
I wake up on Valentine’s Day with a sinking feeling; our relationship is clearly teetering on friendship…or no relationship at all. But that annoying little voice of optimism/denial whispers maybe, just maybe, I am reading this situation incorrectly. Maybe romance is still on this guy’s radar? Maybe he WILL surprise me today with flowers, or chocolates…or…or…even a card!
Or…maybe he will swing by my place…and shovel (or SNOW BLOW) my driveway!
I quickly catch myself from going any further with this Valentine’s Day fantasy (which is, admittedly, a very sad fantasy…what happened to fishnet stockings and great sex?).
The truth is, at this point, I’d be happy with just a “Happy Valentine’s Day” text.
Feel free to read that sentence again. I can’t believe I wrote it.
Because that, my friends, speaks volumes about the state of this relationship…never mind the apparent state of my self respect.
Alas…deep down, I know I won’t be hearing from my fellah today…in any way, shape or form. At least, not without a little friendly encouragement from me.
I am right. I don’t hear from him. And so, around 5:30pm, I do what I must to try and protect my heart. I put on my big girl panties and text him a simple “Happy Valentine’s Day!” message. Our relationship may be over, but I’d prefer it ended on a nice note, not a nasty one of utter indifference…by both of us.
After texting him, I watch a movie and don’t check my phone again until bedtime.
When I do look at my phone, sure enough, he’s texted me back. Oh, happy day! Perhaps all will be well? Maybe he really DOES want a romantic relationship with me?!
“I had a great Valentine’s Day!” he writes. “I got out my snow-blower and did all my neighbour’s sidewalks and driveways!”
I threw back my head and laughed. If I wasn’t a writer and couldn’t utilize this gem of a story—the ultimate Valentine’s Day diss—I would probably cry.
But I can utilize this…so I hope you enjoyed it.
Or, at the very least, learned from it. I certainly have. And a big lesson is this: when a man shows me how he is going to treat me, I believe him.
Another lesson is this: it is time to be honest with myself. The man—the stranger—on the street earlier in the day reminded me that whatever guy I end up with HAS to be at least somewhat interested in my work…because my writing is an extension of me.
And on that note, I dropped off a copy of my book to the guy around the corner. I have no idea whether he’s single or not. That’s not the point. What matters is that I heard what he had to say.
As for the elephant in the room (or the back of the truck), I realize now that the lack of physical intimacy wasn’t the real problem in our relationship. That was just a symptom of something far bigger going on: an inability—on both our parts—to communicate about important issues.
I don’t know if I will even see my fellah again. But if we do have another date, I will most definitely be inviting the elephant in for tea and a fireside chat.
In the meantime, the snow in my driveway is melting quickly. But of course, this never was about the snowblower. Like the elephant in the living room, the snowblower is just another symptom of what happens when real communication stops…and indifference sets in.
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