A SECOND DATE?

A SECOND DATE?

I sit alone, pondering the date.  He was a nice boy; and we did have a great time.  But, I was a just little uncomfortable, since it was his family reunion, and I was just his date.  The food was great.  And, everybody was so kind to me, almost too friendly.  It was like “look at ol’ Dean; he finally got a date!  But, she is a real catch…”

I worked hard to get my R.N. license.  But, after a few years doing hospital work, I just got burned out.  From what I hear, that it is quite common.  But, I did enjoy helping the patients, nursing them back to health.  Nothing is more satisfying than seeing somebody checkout with a new smile on their face.  But, it is such a grind.  But, there is such a shortage of nurses.  And, there are so many sick folks.  But, I am little afraid of getting back into nursing.  Agh!

Why did I ever try this internet dating service?!  It was all moving so fast.  One date is not a courtship.  But, long-distance dating is such a strain.  Sure, we were a great match, in so many ways.  I mean, his family runs the local hospital!  I could get a new job there in their small town.  And, it is a nice place, an idyllic sort of “Brigadoon” or “Xanadu”?!  But, there are problems, even in Shangra-La, to be sure.

So, what’s next?  I do not want to “lead him on” but I cannot seem to quit thinking about Dean.  It was overwhelming – the thought of pulling up roots, moving, starting over in a strange new place.  And, that county is so poor.  I have grown to like it here in the city, with so many advantages.  But, “it is not good to be alone” is the first negative comment in the Holy Scriptures?! 

I do enjoy my lifestyle.  I can come and go as I please.  I make decent money with my new job, even though it is not nursing.  But, how I miss the smell of a hospital!  And the chatter with other nurses in the break-room was stimulating.  Although, I am not sure that my back can take the stain of lifting those over-weight patients, again.  Some of them seem incapable of helping themselves even roll over, much less getting up and waddling over to the restroom.  But it is not all about the hospital.  His family would be fun to be around.

I hate second-guessing myself.  I had to make a decision.  Just a couple more years, and I can retire from this job.  Maybe I was too harsh?  Telling Dean that I did not think it was going to “work out” could have been mollified with something like “let’s stay in touch and see where this goes”?!  But, he has likely moved on and has several butterflies floating around him.  But, maybe I should drop him a note?  We could get a cup of coffee every once in a while?  But, his family probably hates me now.  Maybe I will just write poetry to myself; nobody wants to read it anyway.  And the muses visit so unpredictably.