Covenant

"The man who promises everything is sure to fulfill nothing, and everyone who promises too much is in danger of using evil means in order to carry out his promises, and is already on the road to perdition." - Carl Jung

Saturday night, my best friend Shiraz and I head downtown. It had been a while since we'd been out and about, and with everything that has been going on, I was looking forward to drinking a little too much and flirting with anyone and everyone. It's been a rough run, and frankly, I just needed some attention.

Shortly after we arrive at the first bar, we begin talking to three men. One is from Dallas, the others from New York. They invite us to go to a dance club with them and we do. It's fun talking to them, they are very different than the Austin crowd - we're actually having conversations and laughing and what not. At the end of the night, Dallas asks for my number and I give it to him. It seems like the easiest way to get away and I don't think much of it, I know I won't hear from him again.

He calls Sunday night, but I don't answer. I'm exhausted from the weekend and just not in the mood. Yesterday, he sends me a text message. The beauty of text messaging is that you have a record - you don't have to try to remember what someone said. This can also be a drawback if you lose your phone. ;-) I'm not proud of myself, I come across as a real snot in places.

D: Hey beautiful...you need to tell me your last name.

A: Y'right...so you can google me? You won't find anything interesting.

D: No silly, so I can buy you a plane ticket to come see me this weekend.

A: Y'right.

D: Seriously. Halloween weekend, we'll have a blast.

A: I can't. I have plans, but thanks.

D: When can I fly you up here? I want to see you again.

A: That's sweet, but we don't know a thing about each other. I'll pass.

D: I know I could dance all night with you again. ;)

A: Haha. How old are you?

D: 32

A: Married?

D: No!!! I want to get to know you.

A: You sure about that? Here's my story: I'm almost 36, I'm divorced and I have two young kids.

D: I love kids. How old?

A: My boy is 7 and my girl almost 4.

D: I could take care of you, and them, you know.

A: Huh?

D: I've made a lot of money in my 32 years.

A: I noticed. Your watch is worth more than many homes.

D: I took care of you Saturday night, didn't I?

A: You didn't walk me to my car!

D: OMG. You didn't really just say that to me. I tried. You said, "This is Austin, not Dallas." I even tried to put you in a cab and take you there. You were such a pain in the ass, but I thought the independence was cute.

A: Yeah, that was a mistake.

D: Why?

A: Nothing. I survived, mostly unscathed. So what do you do for a living?

D: I'm a venture capitalist.

A: What the fuck does that mean?

D: It means I developed a web company and sold it to AT&T. Now I don't really work, I just invest in other people's good ideas.

D: You know, there's nothing wrong with wanting to be taken care of.

A: Please don't pretend you know what I need. It's a huge pet peeve of mine.

D: It's easy. You decide to be with someone and then you make it work. They have what you need, you have what they need - you just make the decision and you make it happen.

A: Now I feel much older than you. Life isn't that black and white. People have dilemmas, situations to deal with. (Does anyone else find it amusing that this came out of MY mouth?)

D: I've never met a situation I couldn't buy my way out of.

A: Tell you what - next time you're in town, call me and we'll go have a drink.

D: Tell YOU what. We'll get to know each other a bit over the next few weeks, then you'll come to Dallas.

The following Monday, I tell Shiraz bits of the story. She says, "See, I told you he was really in to you. When you went to the bathroom I tried to dance with him and he wouldn't let me."

So, that's kind of cute. And really, he's very much my type, at least "on paper". He's tall, he's fit, dark hair, amazing blue eyes, dressed nicely, and he rolls like a rockstar. But, he's actually TOO pretty for me. He's a showy sort of fellow. The kind of guy that needs to be a high-roller - he needs to be in the limelight, the center of attention. Now, I have my moments of enjoying that, but for the most part, plant me on a beach where I can swim and snorkle and drink fruity drinks with umbrellas before throwing on a sundress for dinner and I'm a very happy girl.

While physically attractive, his face lacks character. While being successful, his career baffles me. Venture capitalist? That means nothing to me, literally - I have no clue what that means. While he seemed sweet and attentive, he's too airy - I simply can't see him possessing an earthy sexuality - he's not grounded at all. He even looks wispy and willowly despite his size. Hard to explain. He's the kind of guy that would be looking in the mirror while you had sex - at himself.

Po would have loved him - but only because it would have been the first time a ridiculous bar tab didn't land in HIS lap. Po would have hated him for me. Recently, after a long night of drinking with Po he said, "So what IS your type?"

The man that is right for me is solid and earthy. Grounded. Meticulous and methodical blended with a healthy dose of philosopher and dreamer. He likes nice things, but he's not reckless in acquiring them. He plays hard, but not at the expense of reality. He's strong and competent, the proverbial Alpha Male - but remains accessible and tender. He's a little bit of an imp, happy to challenge the status quo when the situation demands it. He's an optimist. He's the man that my father and children would adore. He has managed to find the perfect balance, the harmony between sexual and sensual, healthy and hearty, achievement and leisure. He's the man I can respect, he's the man that has what I need.

Dallas called again yesterday, but I didn't answer. My kids were having a meltdown, I had 8 million things to do and I was apparently very invested in becoming my mother because I sounded just like her.

I thought..."Wait a minute. Maybe he's right. Maybe he can buy me the solutions to all of life's challenges..." But no, that's not reality. He can think it works that way, and he may damnwell be right. But for a second I think, "Maybe he is good enough."

Then I remember that I settled for "good enough" once already and I learned a valuable lesson. This is MY promise: Good enough is not good enough.