In comedy, they say, timing is everything. In romance, and dating, I say timing may not be everything, but it may prove more important than a charming smile or sexy T-shirt.
Last year, I dated a guy we'll call Steve, to protect the not-so-innocent and highly litigious.
By our second week dating, Steve had pledged undying devotion to me. Charming, right? He talked engagement and marriage, and while I basked in a rose-colored glow, it felt too soon to get that serious.
By week three, I'd fallen in love and gave in to bright thoughts about my sparkling future as Mrs. Steve.
We took a whole day off to spend indulging in the joy of each other's company. On the drive home, Steve announced he had some things to tell me. Smiling, I encouraged him to share. My smile grew stiff, brittle and forced as his laundry list of by-the-ways rattled on.
FALLING SHORT
His résumé included two ex-girlfriends who had filed suit against him. One alleged broken promises; another demanded child support after a court-ordered paternity test showed Steve fathered her nearly grown child.
He assured me he had a great lawyer who'd give those exes a trouncing. After all, the lawyer was handling Steve's lawsuit for negligence against a former landlord. When he won that suit, Steve chortled, we'd be able to really kick back and enjoy life together.
Shocked, I sat unable to verbalize a single question. Steve's dismissive attitude made my sense of horror feel overblown, and I questioned my values.
As for my heart, it beat a hasty retreat. Any falling I'd been doing stopped short, and my feet hit terra firma with a bone-rattling smack.
THE BAGGAGE AND MISMATCHED BAGS
Would Steve had done been better to dump this mess on me gradually and earlier? Is there any way to present certain subjects - unacknowledged children, STDs, police records, psychiatric commitments - without jeopardizing or completely torpedoing a budding romance?
I've looked long and hard at the subject, and I realize I don't know.
We all have luggage - especially full-grown, adult singles. I'm facing 40, and I'd be extremely hesitant to date a guy who still lived at home, never had so much as a traffic ticket and assured me he'd never dated another woman.
I don't expect guys I date to shut themselves away in vacuum-sealed protective wrap until I stumble into their path. I haven't.
I have my skeletons in my closet, and I'd already navigated mine-infested waters as I'd shared them with Steve. A mention here and there, treading water in between and the delicate work got done.
I give Steve credit: He didn't lie. No time is good to admit to lies. Better not to, or admit the relationship is over the first time a lie feels necessary.
I have luggage, and my heart has sustained a few bruises accumulating those mismatched bags. I know love is not destructive, and I retrieved my battered heart from Steve, fully intending to return it when convinced we'd be able to build a constructive and healthy future together.
After all, the influence of a wise and caring woman (me) could make him see his duty to his unexpected off-spring.
The lawsuit(s), however, were another matter.
DIFFERENT VALUES
When wronged, Steve sued; when wronged I prefer a Don Corleone approach - a significant difference in values. While I'd never actually be so vicious and cruel, a horse head in a bed is effective and necessitates fewer lawyers.
In the end, Steve and I parted ways when our values proved too diverse. I took my heart and quit that field with another anecdote to share - or not.
I'd also gained a lesson in timing and another argument in favor of dating - and not marrying the first guy I meet who looks good in a T-shirt.
Sofia lives in North Seattle. She can be reached at needitor@nwlink.com.[[In-content Ad]]
