Posted April 6th, 2004 by Michelle

A few weeks ago, my crew and I saw the Italian Saxophone quartet. Just two days ago, I finally got the CD that Marco, the sweet alto sax player, left for me. Inside the cover was a short note. “Alla bellissimo Michelle”, it read. Such sweetness. Just now, here at work, I had a visitor to my lonely office. It was the baker in his chef whites, a guy who I’ve hung out with a couple of times this past week. He came to say hello, gave me a quick hug, and I turned back to my computer to work. I looked down and saw that my shirt was covered with flour. Sometimes, it’s the little things that threaten to break my heart.

I’ve been wondering if I’m ready to date. I know I’ve been saying that I’ve been single for three years, but it’s been much longer than that. My ex and I were broken up a couple times during our years together, and it’s a well-documented fact that most of the time we were together, I was still alone. Singlehood defines me. I really know nothing else other than random dating and short time spent.

Marco, the sax player, was one of the kindest, funniest, most gentlemanly men I’ve met in years. I only spent a couple of hours with him, at a wine bar with 100 other people, and nothing but a chaste kiss goodnight, but he reminds me that there are good ones out there (that hopefully don’t live in Italy). My baker is adorable- sweet, silly, passionate, filled with wonder and conviction. He’s also 24 years old. Distance can be measured in a number of ways, and 24 is almost as far away as Italy. Also, when you are 24, your heart is much more delicate, infinitely more capable of loving and breaking, and I do not want to hurt this good man. As my mom always told us, a touch is also a promise, and I’m not sure I can casually date this man because he’s already nuts about me.

And date at all? It seems so funny and weird. What constitutes a “date”? What is the difference between hanging out and dating, dating and “boyfriend”, boyfriend and lover? I’ve never inhabited the dating world. It’s never interested me. Friends become lovers and boyfriends. That is how it’s worked. And I’ve always dated men older than me, without exception.

So I’ve never been much of a “dater”, and I’ve always fallen in love with older men. I’ve also chosen rather badly and had a largely crummy love life. Hmm. Maybe it’s time to follow my brother Kent’s advice and do this wrong differently. Maybe it’s time to start dating, and maybe I need not be so arbitrary in my choices. Maybe it’s time.