Open to Love. Terrible at It.

An Unexpected Side Effect of Wanting

I froze. I was with my son, a friend and her son, my mom, my brother, and my soon-to-be sister-in-law. We were waiting for the ferry from town to Fire Island. My brother carried the surfboards. I got us there early to get our ferry tickets. On a beautiful day, the small ferry can fill up and need to shuttle.

And as people started to line up behind us, I spotted a handsome man with a surfboard, a daughter, and no ring on that ring finger.

Now, he’s going surfing. So maybe he left his ring at home. But if he isn’t a single parent, why bring his daughter, maybe 8, to hang alone for a little while on the beach while he’s in the water? That’s not the ideal setup. It gave single dad vibes. I could have read them wrong. But women have a spidey sense, and mine was on high alert.

I whispered to my friend. She acknowledged, a good wingwoman. We’ll get our kids talking. She chatted him up, offering his daughter free ice cream to play with our boys. There was consideration. My friend introduced him to me; I don’t even remember his name.

She opened an opportunity, and my body clenched. A huge lump in my throat, and all I could squeak out was a nice to meet you. The air suddenly felt heavy, like I was pushing through a thick fog. The world around me was silent except for his warm eyes looking at mine. It was too much, and I retreated.

Normally, I can ask about his board, how long he’s been surfing, what kind of swell he’s hoping to find. Offer up that I’m out of shape, keep an eye on me in the water. But none of that happened. He just got a stare and an awkward smile. Normally, though I have no interest in the men I’m talking to, no anticipation of possibility.

My mom even pointed out how sweet he was with his daughter. He was. It was cute. It felt like when I was 16 and had a crush on the Starbucks barista. Coming in, gazing intensely, hearing him call my name, cause it was written on the cup, and reading into every sideways glance. And when the barista asked me to a party, I ran away. It makes me wonder how many times I’ve shied away from potential.

At one point, my brother left my board where he wanted to set up. He gave me a thumbs-up silently, asking if it was okay for them to set up where my board was. I didn’t even realize I was spacing out in his direction. But I was, and I gave him a thumbs-up back. In the water, it was just him, my brother, and me. And there’s usually a little small talk, but he didn’t even acknowledge me. I felt like I may have made it awkward.

There was also some relief. This beach town of multi-generational families and beautiful gay men might have a single dad or two for me. When we decided to spend time in this town, I kind of chalked it up to a summer with family, and I’d start dating again in the fall. And I’m happy with kicking that particular desire up the hill a couple months. But when I saw him there, I saw exactly what I am trying to manifest. It was too good to be true, and I choked. Hopefully he’s out there for more weekends, and we see them again, and I don’t put so much damn pressure on myself.

But also, isn’t it weird when you want something, and it shows up? Sometimes the hardest part isn’t identifying the desire. It’s tolerating the possibility that we might actually get it.