Michael and I met on August 12, 2012, then didn’t speak to each other for 15 months. Attempts were made but successes were few.
- We arranged (via MeetUp.com) to car pool to a hike but he canceled the night before.
- He then wrote (via Facebook) that we should get together otherwise. I told him to let me know his schedule, then never heard from him.
- Three months later (again via Facebook) I wished him a Happy Birthday. “Hope you’re doing something fun,” I wrote. He replied: Thank you. It was fun.
I got the hint. Though it didn’t really matter to me. In my first few months in Asheville finding men to date was not a problem. It was during this time that I learned how complicated life can get when you schedule three dates with three different men all in the same week. It was a feat I would never attempt again, nor recommend.
So I went on with my life, writing blog posts almost weekly for BustedHalo.com. In August, 2013 I published a post titled, “Motherhood? No Thanks.” And within 24 hours Michael, whom I had not had contact with in nine months, wrote a response. He said he felt the same way–he doesn’t want children either–but that men don’t face the pressure that women do on the subject. Like me, he loves having nieces and a nephew. Then added, “I’m living in Central America right now. Could I do that with kids? Sure. But . . . ”
Whoa. Wait. What? Living in Central America? And he doesn’t want children? The heavens opened. A man who doesn’t want children and likes not just to travel but to live in other countries? I immediately went to his Facebook page to see what this was all about. There I found pictures of him on an island, then in scuba gear under water.
I wrote him a note thanking him for sharing a male perspective, and complimented him on his photographs. He said he’d be back in Asheville in October and was “sure we’ll bump into each other.”
So I invited him to my birthday party. I told guests not to bring gifts for me. “Unless he’s between 30 and 50, single, doesn’t want children . . . “
In the days before the party, Michael posted pictures on Facebook of desserts he had made in the past. “Lucky for you, you know someone with a birthday coming up,” I wrote.
He showed up with a homemade key lime pie. And a flugelhorn, on which he played Happy Birthday. I was impressed, but a little clueless. Luckily, the husband of a college friend was in town and at the party. When it was over he said, “Michael Weston. That’s your guy.” Turns out he was right.