Tuesday, September 12, 2006

How I Found A TrophyHusband, Part 2

First, a side note: my new running partner (let’s call him RP) had, in general, quite good taste in clothes … for a doctor. He did like to take some sartorial risks—hence the red jeans.

Our first run together could have been a disaster, because I was so full of my bad self after finishing my marathon that I went much farther and faster than I'm really capable of. I took RP on an eight-mile-plus loop and paced myself so poorly that I had to stop multiple times to keep trying to work out a painful stitch in my side. He was entirely good-natured about it, just mentioning that it was a bit farther than he'd expected. He didn't mock me for having to stop, either. I was sure after this that he’d decide I wasn’t worth the trouble, but he hung in there, and we settled into a much more comfortable 40-45 minute routine, every other day. Which is a lot of time to spend with someone you’re not dating, when you think about it. Especially if you spend it sweaty and nearly naked.

One of the first things I learned about him was, the man can talk. And talk. And talk. He was like a human ipod; I could bring up a theme and he could just expound on it for the next forty minutes. I didn’t have to say a thing if I didn’t feel like it. Maybe that sounds unappealing, but you have to understand that I adore being able to be silent with someone. I just don’t always want to talk, even if I’m happy to have company. And it wasn’t that he wouldn’t let me get a word in edgewise; I was simply free to hop in and out of the current of conversation as I wished.

So I learned a lot about him. I learned that despite having gone straight through college and medical school, he’d done a lot of interesting things—cycled halfway across the country, climbed mountains in Bolivia—and that he’d desperately wanted to take time off, but his mother had put up such a fuss that he decided it wasn’t worth the fight. I heard about his crazy family and his wild times at college. He adored movies, and could quote verbatim dialogue from something he’d seen once ten years before.

Still, he was one hyper, anxious dude. And he hated being an intern. As in, would probably have quit if he didn’t have so many student loans. I also learned that he was kind of a ho. He’d had a long-term girlfriend in college, but aside from that, he’d never gone out with anyone longer than a few months. And he’d gone out with a lot of women. A lot.

I started joking with friends that if I got desperate, I could obviously hook up with my running partner. Not as a serious thing, god no.

Then something interesting happened: internship year ended, and we became residents. The life of a resident is very different from that of an intern: you’re the one running the show instead of shoveling the coal. And RP seemed utterly transformed.

Thus it was revealed to me that the person I’d been working with—Intern RP—was almost nothing like the real RP. The real RP was charming, funny, warmhearted, cheerful, open-minded, generous, loyal—a mensch. He was also exceedingly smart, and tremendously fun to be around.

So we started hanging out. Movies, brunch, beers. Being stupid, I took a little while to understand what was happening. The first time I had an inkling I was out on a date with someone else, feeling bored and awkward, when I thought, I wonder what RP’s up to? I’d sure rather be hanging out with him … hmmm.

Suddenly I started to feel a little awkward with him. After all, I’d been pretty clear about the boundaries of our relationship, and I couldn’t blame him if he’d ruled me out. Then there was that classic not wanting to mess up a good friendship dilemma.

So I looked for clues that he might be thinking about me the same way I was thinking about him. And couldn’t seem to find any.

Had I blown it?

To be concluded.

23 comments:

Gallaudet said...

Oh, oh, keep going! I have to hear the end!

Hoping said...

oooooooooh this is like a day time soap opera, just when it gets good it stops - !

Greg said...

OMG I HOPE YOU DIDN'T BLOW IT!

Mignon said...

Now I feel bad for being all redjeansredjeansREDJEANS! Because he sounds wonderful. I don't think any of the guys I dated even knew what brunch with a friend of the opposite sex would look like. Can't wait for the rest...

Old MD Girl said...

I wonder if guys worry about the whole "messing up the friendship" thing as much as women do. I've only heard women say it. My sense (albeit possibly incorrect) is that men have decided whether they are interested in you as a potential gf within about 10 minutes of meeting you, hence the "messing things up" would never occur because they've already decided what they want.

I can't wait to hear how this story turns out....

MJ said...

Nooooo. Not a 3-part story. I'm really not that patient. (Ask my children.) Obviously, I know how it ends but... Inquiring (idle?) minds want to know.

thumbscre.ws said...

Old MD Girl: I predict it turns out with happily ever after and an adorable if prone-to-apoplectic-rage toddler. ;-)

Return Of Saturn said...

I can't wait to hear the end of the story, DM! It gives me hope that I will actually meet my own Trophy Husband one day. No more Participation Ribbons. Boo.

ozma said...

I'm not even going to try and guess what happens next--although if you don't post soon I will start to bug you!

Isn't it funny that the very best way to know who you want to be with is to be with someone else who isn't right?

Menita said...

More! More! More!

Cecily said...

Grrr!!! Hurry up already!

Anonymous said...

Well?!

BTW, maggot master, I am now attempting to return to my old fit self. Three days this week I walked and jogged ever so slowly, for 30 minutes.

Susan Maggot

Orange said...

Aughhh! Post interruptus. Please don't leave us hanging for another six days! Did you jump him? Or did he jump you?

E. said...

I am appreciating your story, and so much more because I'm currently in the throes of writing the second part of my own and it's getting so long! But you always inspire me, and I think hmmm... there's no reason it cant have three parts!

And you've ended on a satisfyingly maddening and intriguing cliffhanger. You are a muse (if an artist can be a muse... If not, hopefully you are amused).

Kimberly said...

I can't wait for the next chapter!

Anonymous said...

awww...I feel sorry for you after reading this entire page (skimmed some parts) of many posts. You call your son Hellboy...ugg. You seem very unhappy and superficial, looking for attention..and full of self-pride. But, the good thing is this: your female doc just might be the cranky irritable bitch you peg her for...perhaps she calls her son Hellboy and her hubby TROPHY...she won him and displays him...just like she rushes home to display her life on the blogs for even more ego boosting. SAD SAD SAD. *hugs* And, yes, you should feel guilty for the bad things you do and no, you should not feel guity for non-bad things you do (like not blogging)...guilt is good...it makes you aware...if you have true guilt, go make amends (tell hubby: sorry I grouched out at you...I am so burnt out...tell your son, I am sorry I ever put into print that tag of Hellboy...you are nothing but heaven to me...my angel.) if you don't have true guilt, move on.

Best wishes on becoming that woman you want to be...

DoctorMama said...

Wow, I just stopped by to say I'm not trying to be a tease, I just have to many things in the air and not enough time to catch them all ... but I had no idea I'd annoyed folks THIS much.

Thanks for the best wishes, anonymous, but trust me, I'll never be the woman YOU seem to want me to be. You should probably quit your skimmin' and bitchin' and move on, or I'll just be annoying you more in the future, I promise.

(HellBoy HellBoy HellBoy! See?)

Old MD girl, my husband would disagree about the deciding in ten minutes thing, but more on that in the next post. (Not meaning to be a tease ... well maybe a little.)

Now since HellBoy is STILL AWAKE and my husband has a grant deadline, I will be back as soon as I can, I promise, y'all.

Menita said...

Your first troll! You must be so proud. I'm still upset you weren't called on calling all of us maggots. Fuming, actually.

Leggy said...

More, more, more. And a troll, how lovely. I guess you've arrived.

Anonymous said...

What I find fascinating is how this troll proves that you can read (skim!) someone's blog and not know them at all. I've had the privilege of spending time with DoctorMama, TrophyHusband, and HellBoy and your estimation could not be farther from the truth.

--Melanie

Anonymous said...

Hey everbody! Let's just up and quit running unless Doctor Mama coughs up the next installment. Grants? Non-sleeping child? We don't really care to read these excuses. Doctor Mama forces the maggots to run in humidity, sleet and snow, no excuses.

Fondly waiting for the rest of this terrific story,

Anon/Sharon

cluelesscarolinagirl said...

Huh? I think you're one hell of a woman, Dr. Mother of Hellboy and Proud Owner Of TrophyHusband.

Moxie said...

9 days we've been waiting!