Anonymous Alcoholics.

I went on a second date with a guy I actually like last night. He's a 30-year old world traveling RN who lives as the "house mom" at a sober living home for recovering addicts and alcoholics. He's got 3 and a half years of sobriety, is a huge fan of AA and lives "one day at a time." I happen to like the drunks. I like that they have lived life hard, have wrestled with themselves and with others and with God and have finally come to a place of surrender. I like that they have no illusions about themselves; "I am flawed" is a central idea to recovery. I like that they have to stay self aware and go to meetings and talk about the stuff of every day because, for an alcoholic, the stuff of the every day is what tries to kill them.

I can relate to all of this.

He sent me an email before our first date telling me that he was a recovering alcoholic and that he understood that this might scare me away. Oddly enough, it seems to pull me closer. Even more odd is that the last guy I dated and liked was a world traveling RN and addict in recovery.

It's weird to date a guy in recovery because it's weird to not drink on a date. It's inconvenient to not be able to get drunk and accidentally end up making out on the couch. Also inconvenient is that, in the case of me and second date guy, we had no place to go back to... I live with my parents and he lives with a bunch of dudes in a sobriety house that has very strict rules around bringing some girl home. So our first kiss was sober and awkward and with a bar between us meant to keep the (not in recovery) drunks from sleeping on the harbor benches.

The stark sobriety and alertness that was a part of the first kiss continued in the super-ridiculous make out session we had in the front seat of my VW beetle (this time e-brake and stick shift creating havoc between us). Everything about this was just so high school, including the fact that he would come up for air every few minutes and check the time as he has a strict 11:00pm curfew every night. And the sober part. And the hands groping body parts over clothing. Oh, so high school.

I didn't want to be doing this with him, and I couldn't figure out why. I have no problem having sex with men I don't know and I usually have a great time. Why was I not enjoying this? Was it because I was sober and all in my head? Was it because I was rammed up against my car door with an e-brake stabbing my thigh? Was it because the creepy guy in the van parked right next to us was watching us with bemused delight? Maybe. But what I discovered, after driving him home in a furious rush (he was 5 minutes late... a HUGE no no) is that I want him to care about me before I let him touch my body. I want to know that he likes me, is interested in me, and is pursuing me. I'm not convinced that he wants to do anything but get into my pants and this brings up a rage and anger that I know is not just about him.

A few weeks ago, this same rage came forward in a conversation with my married friend, Mark. He was whining about the fact that I wouldn't have sex with him and telling me that my standards and values were too black and white and didn't make sense to him. "How is it that you can go home with a guy you met at a bar but won't have an affair with me," he would ask. Because, Mark, I love you. Because I want you to love me! Because I want to be more than just a piece of ass to you that you get to fuck and not be invested in. Because I want you to be able to commit all of yourself to me, Mark. And you don't want that. You want your wife and you want me, too. And I am not willing to share. I deserve a whole man.

A whole man. A man with whom I can share deep connection, intimacy, and commitment with. I've been told my whole life that to ask for all three of these things is to ask too much. Mark and I have the connection and the intimacy but he is (clearly) unable to provide the commitment. My second date, it seems, may also be lacking in one of these three departments. Both want to have sex with me without partnering with me and I'm done not getting my needs met.

I told Mark I couldn't be in any kind of relationship with him anymore because to do so means reinforcing the belief that men are incapable of being whole. While growing quickly disillusioned, I still believe that men are capable of intimacy, connection and commitment. It just may be that I'm not attracting these kinds of guys.

Yet.