I was a late bloomer when it came to dating, and I'm not sure "blooming" would be the accurate term for how my evolution in that venture progressed. But somehow, my dating life had a happy ending considering I'm very satisfactorily married to someone I adore, and who appears to return the sentiment.
In high school, I did manage to bring a date to my junior and senior proms as well as a homecoming dance, but in all three cases, I was more of a convenient ride to the activity than an object of even the slightest romantic interest. I also can't blame my slow dating growth on lack of interest. Starting from about the sixth grade forward, I've found myself extremely interested in the opposite sex, but also extremely unwilling to let my interest be known. All through junior high and high school, I harbored secret crushes on various girls in my school that I did not dare disclose to anyone because I considered them out of my league, and felt I would be ridiculed if my interest in them was known. In hindsight, I might have been right to keep these feelings to myself because the truth was that I did march to a different drummer from most of my classmates. I felt like a zag among a school full of zigs, I existed so quietly and deeply inside my own head whereas it seemed that everyone around me seemed to be of quite the opposite nature. I was a pretty good athlete, a pretty good student, and not the ugliest guy around, and should have been fairly popular among my peers on the face of it, but because I was so shy and withdrawn I wasn't.
Another reason I found myself stymied when it came to dating was because I became hopelessly enthralled with the girl who lived across the street from me. She was three years younger than me which would not have mattered in later years, but then it did considering the whole thing started when I was about fifteen and she was about twelve, and probably didn't completely end until my dad married her mother when I was a Freshman in college. Thankfully, by that time, she had moved in with her father, and we were never forced to co-exist in the same house. If that had happened, it would have been downright torturous for me, and I probably would have stayed away from home as much as possible.
To this day, I'm not sure how much my obsession with her was one-sided or how much she returned my feelings. It seemed to vary from day to day when I would come to see her at first on the pretense of visiting her little brother to play Nintendo games, but later without any pretense at all. We both went to the same private school, but she did not acknowledge me there, and seemed to become angry if I made any move to even speak to her. I found the situation hopelessly frustrating, but no matter what, I couldn't seem to change my feelings for her even though I knew it was highly unlikely that we would ever be the established boyfriend and girlfriend I dreamed of us becoming.
To truly delve into the dysfunctional dynamics that seemed to be in play when it came to she and I would be a separate entry in itself, and not one I'm willing to currently explore. Suffice to say that my hopeless infatuation with her put a damper on the possibilities of me having a more productive dating experience with someone else.
In college, my dating woes continued for the most part except for a few isolated incidents when I could have and should have put my virginity to rest for good. One of these incidents occurred in my sophomore or junior year when I met a girl at a party named Sheila. Aided by alcohol, I broke out of my oppressive shyness for a bit, and wound up spending the night at her apartment. Things became very sexual, but I couldn't seem to get past my anxiety to follow through on what was asked for. It didn't help that the girl completely freaked me out by talking about meeting me as being a sign from God, and saying she was going to arrange a trip to Disney World for us. After that night, suffice to say, I did not seek out her company again. But the incident was very significant to me because it was the most sexual experience of my life, and made me long--or should I say lust--for more. Sometime during my Junior year, I ran into a girl named Stacey who halfway became my girlfriend for the better part of a month or so, but the truth was I wasn't enamored of her at all. I just found it thrilling that she was so willing to help me explore my sexuality for a short time. However, in this case as well, I was plagued with anxiety issues when it came right down to sex, and this fact no doubt led to my encounter with her being so brief.
In 1994, I joined the Navy, and was still pretty much a no-go when it came to women until my fateful meeting with a girl from West Virginia named--I kid you not--Bonnie Jean. I met her at a country bar in Virginia Beach on a night when I had gone out only out of sheer boredom, and told myself I would drink a single beer, and then return to exile myself to the ship that doubled as my home. Halfway through the beer, I was unexpectedly served another. The bartender told me that the drink was courtesy of the two girls sitting nearby. After a minute, I gathered the courage to speak with them, and was soon deep in conversation with Bonnie Jean whose sister had ordered the drink after Bonnie had apparently expressed a favorable opinion about my appearance. Things progressed and she invited me to her home where I promptly spent the night. I still had problems with anxiety on this occasion, but this time, Bonnie Jean had the patience to help me work through them. I was twenty-four years old, and the night marked a landmark for me.
I was hot and heavy with Bonnie Jean for a little over two months until my ship left Norfolk for a six month cruise. I never saw her again after that, but she did write me a few letters during the first couple of months I was gone. When the cruise ended, and my ship returned to Virginia, I called her number, and reached her sister who informed me Bonnie had gotten married to a Marine while I had been gone. I was neither surprised or particularly heartbroken by this news, and was actually somewhat relieved. She hadn't exactly been my soul-mate. But being with her and sleeping at her house had certainly been better than flying solo all the time. I suppose the experience with Bonnie should have given me the confidence to propel me into a woman chasing frenzy, but it did not. In fact, I had nothing resembling a girlfriend again until after I finished with the Navy in 1998 although I was guilty of engaging in a random hook-up or two along the way. Not becoming involved with a girl was also somewhat by design as I didn't want anyone or anything to prevent me from returning home to finish college when my enlistment was over.
I was only out of the Navy two months before running into Carrie, a friend of the much younger girl my uncle--Super Bob-- was dating. One thing led to another, and I wound up being in a relationship with her for the better part of a year. Delving into this thing too could also be its separate entry, but in the final analysis, I can't say it was a negative experience. Carrie was pretty nuts with her over-dramatic presentations and extreme possessiveness, but she was also kind and fun in her way. She only broke up with me after honesty finally compelled me to admit I didn't see myself ever marrying her. We were living together at the time, and about three days after that revelation she moved away to parts unknown, and I have never seen or heard from her again.
It was during my post Navy time that I became what my wife terms a "serial monogamist." After Carrie came Angie who I dated for three years, and became engaged to, but in the end we went our separate ways, and I moved to Savannah for a job after graduating from grad school. There I met Karen, who I had an awesomely fun time with drinking in half the bars in Savannah, and spending almost every weekend at the beach. This lasted for a little over a year before she suddenly moved back to her home state of Connecticut after being offered a job there.
Shortly after that, I ran into she who shall not be named except for the appelation of Crazypants. Of all my relationships this was the only one that could accurately be described as unhealthy. Poor Crazypants was madly jealous and irrational on many levels. She seemed to have no limits in what she would do to keep me with her. Things with her dragged on for the better part of three years before I finally disentangled myself from her. I assume she is living in Savannah now, but I have no idea where she is or what she is doing, and am happy and relieved that that is the case.
Shortly after she was mercifully gone, I met my wife, and knew early on that I didn't ever want to date anyone else ever. Thankfully she felt the same way, and now we are happily married and living happily ever after. Prior to meeting her, I used to spend a lot of time analyzing the reasons for my rocky and hit and miss dating life. I suppose it happened just because it was how my life has played itself out. I'm just glad I don't have to be a serial monogamist any longer although except for the experience with Crazypants, I don't really regret dating any of my former relationships although I certainly stayed in some of them much longer than I should have. In the final analysis, I'm happy that the very winding road I took led me to where I am now.
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