Almost Maybe

Dude, my life is FULL of Almost Maybes right now. It’s killing me.

You know what I’m talking about – that guy (or girl) with whom it almost maybe works, but doesn’t quite. It’s close to what you want without actually being it, which makes it even harder to let go of. It’s especially annoying when you like the attention and therefore have trouble divesting yourself completely of the Almost Maybes in question.

Of course I wouldn’t know anything about that.

But maybe if I describe them, I will some how exorcise myself of their appeal and be able to actually let in a man I really want.

So without further ado, here is my list of my Almost Maybes:

Rory – You’re super HOT and I’ve already hooked up with you so I know you’re an amazing kisser. But I already have a strong feeling it wouldn’t work because a) you don’t speak my love languages AT ALL (I’m pretty sure I’ve heard you say you care about me out loud exactly one time in the entire history of our friendship), and b) you’re not really into emotional processing the way I am.

However: I love how present you are with me. I love your naturally grounded nature. I love the way you play the piano and how good you look with your shirt off. I love your touch. Oh, my God, your touch. Fuck.

Archetype: That guy you love hooking up with who you’d really WANT a relationship to work with, but know deep down that it never really would.

Rick – I LOVE how well we get along. I feel like we could go on a roadtrip and never run out of shit to talk about. We have similar friends, similar interests, similar professions. We are really fucking great together.

Except I’m not that turned on by you. You walk in the room and I don’t get wet; I just feel neutral. You have good touch, but the fact is it isn’t really you I want touching me. In other words, the problem is sex… I don’t really give a shit about having it with you. I like the affection we share, but that’s about it. Wtf?

Archetype: That guy you can talk to like you do with your girlfriends, but who might as well be one of them for the amount he turns you on.

 

Matt – You and I have great chemistry. As in, REALLY good, and in more ways than just physical. You’re just as smart as me, which is a huge turn-on, and we share language as a passion. You’re also masculine in a different way than I’m used to, and we communicate well in ways I’ve only ever dreamed of.

But I can’t always feel your heart, you’re pretty narcissistic, and you’ve proved over and over that I can’t rely on you. Plus I’m fairly certain you have a girlfriend, a fact you seem willing to overlook. And that’s a problem for me, because I don’t like being around messy energy.

Finally (the nail in the coffin), you sort of lack tenderness, that soft quality that makes me melt, that has me look into your eyes and know that without words, you’re saying, “I love you.” I’ve had that with men I’ve only been with for an evening, that sense of adoration, of wonder. You’re never really like that, and I want that. Not really willing to negotiate on it.

Archetype: That smart, sexy guy from your office who’s perfectly willing to sleep with you, but who doesn’t like to cuddle and you have the sneaking suspicion would throw you under a bus for a promotion at work.

 

Karl – You’re the most available man I’ve ever met. You’re actually available, as in you’re willing to commit – maybe even looking for a commitment; and that’s different than a whole slew of guys I’ve attracted in the past. Huge step forward. You’re also emotionally aware enough to actually be ready for a relationship – also new.

However: you apologize for things like having an erection. Seriously? You should never apologize for that! It’s OK – in fact, it’s more than OK. It’s healthy. And deep down, I get the impression you’re apologizing for something else, something deeper, something perhaps you’re not even aware of. And that’s somewhat concerning.

Also, we don’t really talk exactly. I need to be asked about my life; keep me talking. I need someone who’s fascinated by me, by my ups and downs, someone who holds space for all my ramblings and tumblings and withdrawals. I need someone that’s captivated by my ride, who always wants more, who knows how to draw me out. When we’re in the car I want you to ask, “What’s going on for you?” or “What are you thinking?” I like to be invited out; I need you to be an invitation. I want that, and I don’t think that’s you.

Archetype: That sweet guy with whom it seems like it all lines up, but something just doesn’t feel quite right.

 

Are you guys sick of these yet? Are you? ARE YOU?

No shit. So am I. But believe it or not, THERE ARE MORE. Wtf? It’s like my life is an Almost Maybe convention right now. They just keep parading around, texting me and emailing me and running into me and straight up just hanging around my consciousness.

It’s practically to the point where I hang out with one at work, take the bus home with another, and see the last one in my elevator in my building. Almost like I can’t get away from them. And because I can’t, you can’t. Here we go with the last two.

That’s right. I’m relentless, bitches.

JR – You’re so hot I can’t even stand it. I watch you walk around the workshop doing your thing and I just want to jump you right there. I watch your sad attempt at peeling an onion and I just want to jump you right there. You’re not even DOING anything, you’re just BEING.

But you’re an alcoholic. You joke about not being one, but you are. Talk about a dealbreaker. It’s like game over before the game has even started.

By the way, here’s a hint: if you’re drinking at home alone, even if it’s “just a few beers,” you should probably start going to meetings. And not PTA ones.

The problem isn’t even the drinking, because you’re actually kind of funny and cute when you’re drunk. The real problem is what’s behind it: it probably has something to do with your dad, and the fact that you haven’t even really looked at that means I can’t be with you. I need someone self-aware. I don’t need perfection, but I am NOT interested in a project. Which sucks, because you want to hang out and hanging out with you is fun. And I can feel your heart.

But I can’t get past the drinking thing, and all of its ramifications. So would you please stop being so goddamn hot?!

Archetype: That hot guy your head knows isn’t good for you, that your heart has trouble letting go of anyway.

 

Caleb – You are almost it. Really. I like that we don’t really seem to run out of things to talk about. I love that you’re into processing shit just as much as I am. I think it’s HOT that you’re part of a men’s group and that you’re a leader. And you’ve got a good body! I do feel turned on by you.

But you’re a little old for me. And while I get that you’ve recently been doing all this work on yourself and right now you’re just spewing out all this random bullshit all the time – seriously, you’d need to REGULATE that shit before I could ever be with you. Otherwise I’d just feel like you were out of control. I’d never know whether you could modulate your comments to fit the situation; if we’re out with my mainstream friends, are you gonna be able to rein in your exuberance over the implications of the enneagram on your relationship with your id? I need to know that you know that I am up for all kinds of hippie spiritual shit, while also being aware that that kind of stuff can overwhelm other people, and that sharing about it doesn’t always serve the situation.

I love that you bring shit up. Trust me, I do. But the way you do it right now has me a little nervous about what you’re going to say next, to whom, and how.

Archetype: That guy that’s got all the qualities you’re looking for, just not to the degree you’re looking for them… like a watered down version of soup.

 

Whew.

Now I feel a little like that Alanis Morrisette song now where she talks about all those men she learned something from.

So what have I learned?

I think I’ve learned that if it’s not it — for whatever reason — it’s not it. No amount of resisting that fact is going to make it more it. It’s just not.

So it’s probably a waste of time to keep spending energy on Almost Maybes, whatever form they take. They could be that hot ex who’s back in town, the sexy neighbor you just started seeing with whom you’ve always had a flirty elevator relationship but have come to realize has kind of a mean sense of humor, or the super sexy married woman from work you’ve accidentally started sleeping with (there’s no judgment here at Vixen on the Loose, btw; if you’re in a stressful situation like this and need help, please write. You don’t have to be alone no matter how fucked up your situation).

Whatever it is, most of us have an internal sense of when it’s Not Quite It, which is really just another name for Almost Maybe.

The issue is really that the more energy and attention you spend focusing on Almost Maybes (texting them, thinking about them, fucking them) – the less energy and attention you have to actually be present in your life right now, which means the harder it would be for an actual match to find you. My friend Jeffrey puts it best when he says you have to let go of the banana to get the goodies.

Think about it: let’s say you have a friend with benefits who you know it isn’t going to work with, and simultaneously you want to be in a real relationship. Well, if on a given Friday night you meet up with your fuckbuddy for a rousing game of post-college flip cup (nothing like that to make you feel old) after which a good old-fashioned romp on the futon, that’s one more night you’re not spending out with friends meeting new people.

Or let’s just say you’re busy texting an Almost Maybe while you’re on the metro; that makes it totally likely that you’ll totally miss the adorable, single, sane, commitment-ready guy who thinks you’re cute but can’t figure out a way to talk to you because you’re busy with your head down in your phone.

The point is, you pay more attention to your surroundings — in every sense of the word — when you’re not spending mental energy trying to figure out what the latest Almost Maybe’s deal is, or what to do about him/her.

Here’s what to do about him or her:

(Note: if you figure out how to actually do this, let me know.)