Delete

I did it. I have officially deleted Charlie's number from my cell phone. No more drunk dialing, or worse, calling him on my way home from work when I have nothing to do.

A clean break is best, right?

Of course, I do still have his work number, and his new landline, in my phone book but I've only ever called those in emergencies. So that's not the same thing, right? I mean, I've still cut him out of my life. Even if I do have his cell phone number written down on a post-it and tucked inside my wallet.

Or, so I thought. No sooner had I deleted him, than he suddenly reached out to me. It's as if he has a sixth sense letting him know when I've reached the breaking point, and it's time to reel me back in.

And, of course, I fell for it. At least, the first two times. Which inevitably ends up with me going out of my way to meet him somewhere, having a great time, spinning all kinds of daydreams in my head the next day about why it's different now, and then crashing back to earth when it's not.

But now, I'm done. For good.

It's not that Charlie's a jerk (or any of the other far more hostile euphemisms my friends prefer to use). He's honestly a good guy - he just happens to be toxic for me (yes, as in a bubbling green goo that eats you from the inside out) because I've been unable to accept the classic "He's Just Not That Into You" situation he presents.

Regardless of whether I'm in a crush stage with Charlie at any given moment, at one point I considered him my best friend in DC, and I'm not ok with the transition we've made to casual acquaintances who hang out once a month.

Thus, the reason he's able to have such a mind-altering effect on my day. I'm always hoping "this time" it will be back to the way it was. But I know now, in the infinite wisdom gained from being shot down again and again over a year, that sometimes you can't fix things just because you want to.

Definitely a good thing he's been deleted. Good-bye, Charlie.

The Perfect Date

Last week, Melissa Blake was kind enough to invite me to be a guest on her blog, "So about what I said," at

melissabxoxo.blogspot.com. Every Tuesday, she posts dating stories as part of her "Tales from the Trenches" and I wanted to share my story about the perfect date.

Three and a half years ago, fresh out of college and on my first day of work at my new job in, my co-worker told me I’d never have a problem getting a date in Washington, DC.

Finding someone I’d want to have a second date with, however, would prove far more difficult. I think that was likely the most accurate statement I’ve heard since I’ve been in the area.

As many first dates as I go on, there are so few I have any interest seeing again. And of those that I do, almost always the second date then leaves little room for discussion about a third.

And then, it happened…the most perfect first date. I was on a business trip to Manhattan a few weeks before Christmas when all the stars aligned for a single wonderful evening.

Having finished my meetings for the day, I tried to arrange dinner with a friend, but was left to twiddle my thumbs when she had to work late. Rather than sitting alone in the room that night (all of my TV shows had already gone on hiatus for the holidays), I decided to call someone I’d met the last time I was in town.

Brad was the funny guy at the bar when I was waiting out a rainstorm in July. We’d kept in touch, and amazingly, he had no plans for the night. He was not, though, the type of guy I had any sort of romantic interest in.*

We arranged a meeting place, and from there, the whirlwind began. Drinks and a shared burrito at a little Mexican place on the Upper West Side, followed by a walk in Central Park. As we watched the Zamboni machine clean the skating rink, we bemoaned the fact it was already closed, but consoled ourselves by moving onto an Irish pub.

Walking the city by night in December is truly a beautiful sight. And, as any girl who likes romantic comedies knows, it’s an unforgettable experience when done with someone of the opposite sex.

Realizing neither of us was ready to head home after another Guinness, we instead walked up Fifth Avenue to see the display at Saks, and more importantly, the tree at Rockefeller Center.

And as we stood looking at the twinkling icon, he kissed me.

Good food, good conversation and a night filled with visits to the types of landmarks you find only on the big screen - what more could a girl ask for only a few days before Christmas?

And yet, perhaps the best part of the evening was that there would be no second date. Instead, it was a single evening of fun and romance, without any pressure for it to lead somewhere else.

We still text occasionally, and both know we’ll never be more than friends. But Brad will always be the guy I shared one perfect evening with.

*Several people commented at melissabxoxo.blogspot.com that I wrote Brad off too quickly. It's true that my friends tease me about all my "criteria" for dates, but this was one of those "what happens on a business trip stays on a business trip" types of circumstances - it was never supposed to go anywhere!