Shortie Pie Part 1

Sweet Shortie Pie.  His profile includes a photo of his short legs kicking into the air in a yoga headstand.  A sense of humor.  Check!   He's nice looking and in good shape.  Plus, he's into yoga like me.  Check Check!

For 3 weeks, his email languishes in my inbox, his handsome face popping up each time I log on.  Everything about him is dreamboat level, except for one biggie--his height.   At 5'7", he doesn't measure up.  I've dated short men in the past and I seem to lack the little guy chemistry gene. Attraction is a tricky thing that can't be manufactured, and believe me, I've tried to muster up the mojo.  There are many perfectly wonderful men of short stature and I wish I could feel the magic.  But, alas, it can't be forced.  But, maybe, it's different now.  Maybe, I'm different now.  I'll keep the email for the time being.

Then one day, during a momentary memory lapse, which happens far too often, I see that cute face in the inbox and respond to his waiting email.  Actually, truth be told, I mixed him up with another Mr. Maybe profile, also aging in my inbox.  Oh shit!  Within hours, I receive a response, "Would you like to meet?"    Well, okay....he's cute, educated, in shape, possible good partner material, and I'm not having much luck with the tall men.   I decide to go with,  "There are no accidents", and see it as  Divine intervention and go for it.  I'll meet Shortie Pie with an open mind and heart, and my sexiest flats.

It's a beautiful day, so we select a patio table at a lovely natural foods restaurant of his choosing.  We order lunch and commence the cha cha.  He's as cute as his photos, with stunning blue eyes, set off by his blue shirt, and a witty  conversationalist. Within minutes we are gazing into each other's eyes, and talking as if we've known each other all our lives.  He wants to take me to a special event out of town this weekend, but it's too soon for that--way too soon.  Things are going really well.  I like him and he's so sweet!  Yes, I'll see him again..in town.   I stop at the shoe store on my way home to check out the selection of flats.

The following week, we meet for dinner.  Sitting across from each other... laughing and talking and sharing our dreams,  holding hands, our first kiss....the minutes rolled into hours.   I am excited at the prospect of finding such a sweet, intelligent, thoughtful man.  Could Shortie Pie be Mr. Right? Am I over the short stature syndrome?  He walks me to my car and begins to dance with me in the parking lot.  Ah oh.....we are eye-to-eye and it doesn't feel good.  My stomach does a flip flop.  I quickly cut the dance short, jump in my car and say goodby.   Damn.

I'm not ready to give up on this man, just because he is my height.  We talk on the phone and exchange texts.  He's easy going and kind and a bit passive--the peace and love type.  Our next date is dinner and a movie.  

See Part 2 for the continuing saga....

http://datingmrmaybe.blogspot.com/2016/06/shortie-pie-part-2.html

Shortie Pie Part 2

Continued from Shortie Pie  Part One:

http://datingmrmaybe.blogspot.com/2016/06/shortie-pie-part-1.html

I'm not ready to give up on this man, simply because he's legs are lacking length.   I like him and he is gaga about me, and I can see potential for a good relationship--shortness and all.  We talk on the phone and exchange texts.  He's easy going, kind and a bit passive--the peace and love type.  Our next date is dinner and a movie.  Thoughtfully, he offered several choices of movies and theaters.  Such a sweetheart, he is just so nice, maybe too nice.  All goes well and we continue our courtship.  When we are sitting down, my heart is going pitter pat....and it's not so bad when we are standing.  

I invite him to attend a family party Saturday night.  That's a huge step to the next level, as I rarely invite a man to family functions.  He has to be really special for me to suffer the ensuing speculation that comes with the introduction.  "He seems nice.  Do you really like him?" "She brought some guy to the party she met online."  "So, what did you think of the man she brought?  Did you find out anything about him?"  

Shortie Pie picks me up for the first time (I'm a bit old fashioned.  Okay cautious.) bouquet of flowers in hand.  I gush over the flowers and he's very pleased with his gift and my response.  He has a nice bottle of wine for the host--generous, as well as sweet.  At the party, he sticks close to me in the sea of strangers, attentive and agreeable...kind of a puppy dog following me.  Whatever I want is fine with him.  I ask if he wants to leave and he says, "whenever you want."   He offers little to the conversations, just smiles and laughs at my responses.  Is it possible to be too nice?   

In the days that follow, he sends a flurry of mushy texts and calls to tell me he is thinking about me, he wants to see me soon, he is so thrilled to have met me, he is very happy, etc.  I'm on a super sweet man's pedestal and it doesn't feel good.  My halo will fade and I'll fall off the pedestal with a thud and disappoint this open-hearted, loving cutie pie.  I can't take the pressure to be perfect and I know in my heart I'm not feeling the magic.  I need a man that makes me feel safe and secure, a he-man, if not in stature, in decisiveness and confidence.  Women are attracted to the strength of the protector/provider, even if it doesn't look that way sometimes.  

After a couple of days of not responding, I think I'd better say something.  So, I text a photo of the flowers he had given me 3 days earlier, "The flowers are just lovely and they smell wonderful."    Shortie Pie texts back that he is using the flower photo as his screen saver "to remind him of us".  A man secure in his masculinity is good, but a man with flowers for a screen saver is too much.  

It IS possible to be too nice.   I let Shortie Pie down gently.