An Un-romantic Getaway

Ahhh, home sweet home in New York City.

Somehow it was heaven crossing the Triborough Bridge, and once again seeing the skyline through the wintry haze. Last night, it snowed a record six inches.

Five days away with the pseudo-boyfriend and well what can I say, I’m bored, I’ve had enough. I’m sort of in a state where I feel like I’m in a fork in the road and not sure where to head next. What next? Who next? Next fling, next romance?

I remembered what the Buddha man said about ADDers. They are attracted to the superficial and not very good at the long run—relationships don’t work.

I remembered a fellow ADD woman who talked about being with her boyfriend. She’d been married once before. She said that the boyfriend was smothering; she needed space. At the same time, she was incredibly impulsive and controlling, and said that she wanted to strangle the boyfriend when he did what she thought was a haphazard job on the laundry.

The pseudo-boyfriend is getting boring to me, because he’s not, well, very romantic—or even very interesting when it comes to conversation. The chat as of the past two months has been about Obama and Hillary, the lesser of the two evils. Every time there’s a silence, it’s filled with banter about Hillary’s hair, her makeup, or how she’s messed up the campaign.

And he’s not very sexual either. The most sexual thing that we did, to my suggestion, was sit in the Jacuzzi together and give each other showers as we sipped cheap red wine. At my suggestion, mind you.

Perhaps the only time he perked up was when the ski trail was groomed. He’s a cross-country maniac, and I just sit here like OK, what’s new about this, next? However, on the flip side, the ADHD medication really hasn’t been working, as I’ve been acting wackier and wackier; I can be childish, can curse on a whim, can topic-jump faster than the weather. I can be petulant, can pout, can change orders at the restaurant on a whim, and can be very critical at the drop of a hat.

Case in point: One night at a nice restaurant, I looked at the menu, didn’t see the flavor I wanted in the ice cream section and asked the waitress if I could ask for something different and get another flavor. The date looked surprised and said, “What, I thought you wanted that flavor?” The waitress looked like she was ready to throw in the towel and quit, and probably wondered how she even got in the predicament in the first place.

On the down side though, I don’t think it’s meant to be: He was quiet during the whole ride home, doesn’t want to share anything about himself, and of my gifts, he just tore open the wrapping and didn’t seem to say anything nice about my giving them to him. That’s not very nice. In the end I deserve better.