I completely forgot about the old retired lawyer from Chicago who took me to see Shakespeare at the Old Globe (I'll have to adjust my number scheme accordingly). He bought me a rare edition of Midsummer...the text of the First Folio, with Quarto insertions, from The Collector's Library of Famous Editions, commissioned in 1938, edited and amended where obscure by Herbert Farjeon and illustrated from water colors by Arthur Rackham, and bound in genuine leather by The Easton Press...as a memento. He also got my car in at a mechanic friend's of his who owed him some favors, and took me to brunch about 20 times so we could have "highly intelligent" conversations, and so on and so forth. Of course, he stopped contacting me a month ago when I told him The Propane Truck Driver might have given me herpes (for the record, it appears that he didn't, from what I can tell, but I'm still grateful for the incentive to fucking stay away from men).
His name was Deniro. I had questioned his motives outright and out loud. He was really pressing me to go see Shakespeare with him, once he found out that I was considering writing a paper on Hamlet's ghost for my History of Literary Criticism and Commentary class. He asked me about seven times over three months, before I finally said, "Fine, I'll go." And he assured me, repeatedly, that his intentions were good; he enjoyed my company; he just wanted to see a single mom stay sober; he appreciated my "joie de vivre;" he thought my intellect refreshing; and he wasn't interested in "a relationship" or..."anything else".
Note to self: Guys from recovery meetings are like cars at the shop -- they're broken, and need a lot of work, and sometimes, no matter how much work gets done, you really just don't know how reliable they're gonna be. (But I guess that goes for me, too.)
My hope is just to have better standards when it comes to letting someone of the opposite sex into my sphere (in other words, I really need to learn how to firmly use that highly under-rated word, "No"). When I'm ready to date again (which I'm not letting myself do until I've completed this exhaustive inventory of all my relationships), I should make myself ensure that the guy exhibits certain qualities, other than "is male," before I let myself be with him...like, he: isn't just trying to fuck me (not sure how I'll discern that, but maybe it'll come to me)..................oh, and, supports himself, is educated/enjoys learning, lives by spiritual and moral principles, cares for children and animals, has compassion, helps others, takes time to get to know himself and share himself honestly with others, takes responsibility for his choices and actions and makes adjustments as needed; is positive, grateful, humble, respectful, patient, tolerant, forgiving, loving, kind, balanced, rational, not afraid to be vulnerable; weighs decisions, asks for/takes advice, makes a God of his own understanding his higher power instead of other people or himself; is a leader in the spirit of God's will; and, cares about me as much as I care about him (assuming that once I learn to care for myself, I'll have the capacity to truly care for someone, too). I'm sure I'll add more to the list, the longer I don't let myself be with just any man that comes along and tells me I'm pretty and smart just so he can take me somewhere and...well, you know.
So for now...it's Jesus. Hey, if a girl needs a man, it just don't get any better than this guy.
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