As I got ready for my first date with Bruce, I was so excited I couldn\u2019t even get my lipstick on straight or figure out what to wear. Okay, my white slacks with the pink top always looks good.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I had no idea how this first date would totally change my life.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I\u2019d met him at a divorce recovery workshop. I\u2019d been divorced and recovered long ago. The voice in my head told me to go. \u201cBut I\u2019m not recovering from divorce,\u201d I argued. \u201cJust go,\u201d it kept saying. \u201cThere will be lots of single men there, I guarantee.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I ached to have a man in my life. I didn\u2019t want to be alone any longer. I was ready to marry again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I got dressed and went out, again and again. (This was before internet dating.) To singles dances, mixers, business conferences, bars.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Yes, I met men. Time and time again, I\u2019d date a man for the first time, only to quickly recognize all his faults. Either he didn\u2019t have a job, was hopelessly self-centered, rude to the waitress, had an IQ in the single digits, etc., etc. If you\u2019re single, you know what I\u2019m talking about here.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
There was no one I wanted for the one and only man in my life. I became more and more discouraged. Felt more and more lonely and hopeless about ever finding a good, caring man.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
My life was at a boring point. My only child had married and moved across the country. I liked my job as a psychotherapist, liked it a lot. It\u2019s rewarding to help people create a better life for themselves. But I really needed to create a better life for myself. Surely there had to be more to life.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
There was a big void in my life. I was lonely. I wanted someone in my life. Someone I cared about and who cared about me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Awkwardly, I stood by the cookies on that first night at the divorce recovery workshop. The cookies were just inside the door and everyone headed there first. I\u2019d read in some advice for the lovelorn: \u201cIf you\u2019re shy about meeting people, station yourself as a greeter at the door.\u201d Sounded like good advice, so there I was.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Coming towards me in the surge of people was a man, a handsome man. And he was looking right at me! I smiled: \u201cDon\u2019t eat those chocolate cookies; they really taste terrible,\u201d I said. He smiled, grabbed a vanilla cookie, and walked off.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
We sat on separate sides of the room. After the meeting, he walked out. I couldn\u2019t wait until next week to run into him again. My heart fell when he wasn\u2019t there. The following few weeks, I had other commitments and I didn\u2019t go.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But then finally, he was there, and I was there, and we talked. He invited me out the following Saturday.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I hopped into his beat-up Dodge van, surprised at what was there. Guitar music like you\u2019d hear on a tropical beach, a tiny hula dancer swayed under a plastic palm tree on the dashboard; an umbrella-like they serve in exotic drinks. \u201cWhat\u2019s up with this guy?\u201d I wondered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI can\u2019t get involved with anyone right now,\u201d he explained. \u201cMy dream is to be a cruiser – to live on a boat and sail around the world. Most people think it\u2019s crazy.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cSo far, I really like this guy,\u201d I thought. \u201cI\u2019ll date him for now and not plan any future with him.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Bruce and I saw each other often, usually in one of the many boat-related places in Southern California. He was obsessed with the idea of being a cruiser, talked much about it. I got seasick just looking at a boat. The idea of getting on one turned my stomach.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He respected my complete lack of interest. He understood that no woman would share his dream. Her home, her job, her kids, were too important. He knew no woman would go with him; he\u2019d go alone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I cared more and more about him. He had a twinkle in his eye and a warm smile. His dream was to get a boat and sail around the world. My dream was to find a caring man with a twinkle in his eye and a warm smile.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I began to love him; I wanted him in my life forever. I didn\u2019t want the boat part. But they were a package deal. How could this ever work?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Gradually, I began to think maybe his plans weren\u2019t so crazy. I was ready to stop working. My daughter wasn\u2019t around. So maybe, just maybe.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
At the age of 53, I married the man of my dreams. We bought a sailboat and called her Crossroads. I continued working as Bruce prepared Crossroads to take off.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Though I went through the motions, because I loved Bruce, I was scared of taking off. I didn\u2019t want to.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
One night, getting out of bed, I collapsed on the floor. \u201cSomething serious is wrong with me, really serious,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Bruce threw me over his shoulder and took me to the ER where I was hospitalized with a stroke.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYour working days are over,\u201d said my neurologist.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou can\u2019t go on a boat,\u201d said my cardiologist.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI\u2019ll give up our plans,\u201d said Bruce. He was ready to give up his dream, to live with me on land.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I\u2019d been ambivalent. I hadn\u2019t wanted to live on a boat. I was going along with the plan only because I wanted to be with Bruce. Now I had an out.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Being told I couldn\u2019t do this ended my ambivalence. I decided I did want to live on Crossroads, and I wanted her to leave the dock.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
My recovery continued as we moved onto Crossroads and took off for Mexico.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
For 15 happy years, we lived and traveled on Crossroads. I\u2019m so glad I overcame my fears to have the adventure of my life.<\/p>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
As I got ready for my first date with Bruce, I was so excited I couldn\u2019t even get my lipstick on straight or figure out what to wear. Okay, my […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":6,"featured_media":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"_tec_requires_first_save":true,"_gspb_post_css":"","_EventAllDay":false,"_EventTimezone":"","_EventStartDate":"","_EventEndDate":"","_EventStartDateUTC":"","_EventEndDateUTC":"","_EventShowMap":false,"_EventShowMapLink":false,"_EventURL":"","_EventCost":"","_EventCostDescription":"","_EventCurrencySymbol":"","_EventCurrencyCode":"","_EventCurrencyPosition":"","_EventDateTimeSeparator":"","_EventTimeRangeSeparator":"","_EventOrganizerID":[],"_EventVenueID":[],"_OrganizerEmail":"","_OrganizerPhone":"","_OrganizerWebsite":"","_VenueAddress":"","_VenueCity":"","_VenueCountry":"","_VenueProvince":"","_VenueState":"","_VenueZip":"","_VenuePhone":"","_VenueURL":"","_VenueStateProvince":"","_VenueLat":"","_VenueLng":"","_VenueShowMap":false,"_VenueShowMapLink":false,"_tribe_blocks_recurrence_rules":"","_tribe_blocks_recurrence_description":"","_tribe_blocks_recurrence_exclusions":"","footnotes":""},"essay_type":[46],"essay-category":[],"class_list":["post-19260","essay","type-essay","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","essay_type-features"],"blocksy_meta":[],"acf":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/sasee.com\/ro\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/essay\/19260","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/sasee.com\/ro\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/essay"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/sasee.com\/ro\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/essay"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sasee.com\/ro\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/6"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sasee.com\/ro\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=19260"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/sasee.com\/ro\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/essay\/19260\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/sasee.com\/ro\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=19260"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"essay_type","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sasee.com\/ro\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/essay_type?post=19260"},{"taxonomy":"essay-category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sasee.com\/ro\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/essay-category?post=19260"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}