I just had the third in a series of breakup calls with Older Navy. Why is it that when we decide to break up with someone, we are so gung ho about it until we actually get on the phone with them (or if you’re lucky enough to live in the same state, face to face)? I don’t get it. I mean, off the phone I can tell you a million and a half things that are wrong with my relationship with older Navy. Hell, you guys could probably tell ME everything that’s wrong. But I get on that phone, and I hear him accuse me of giving up on something beautiful and I crack. He breaks me heart as I’m trying to break his.

Anyway I should back up. I know it’s been a long time since I’ve written. I’m very sorry for that. I really have no excuse other than the fact that I’m lazy as hell. So here’s what is going on.

On Saturday, July 23rd I was invited by an old college buddy to his rooftop housewarming party. I had nothing else to do so I went, alone. When I got to the roof he greeted me warmly and hugged me. He introduced me to friends, his cousin and his roommate and offered to get me a drink. I had a nice time talking to him and his cousin. He (let’s call him the white Russian cause he’s Russian and I think it’s funny) was getting kinda drunk and very flirting. Keep in mind that I have only resolved to break up with Older Navy at this point, I have not actually done it. So the party rolls on and I find myself entangled with the White Russian. He is wrapping his arms around my waist, pushing himself up to me and almost kissing me in front of the whole party on several occasions. Now you have to remember that I’m not a big drinker. Other than the occasional night where I indulge, I usually have 1 drink and that’s about it. Such was the case this particular Saturday. Anyway I’m sober, he’s drunk(ish) but I’m still having a good time. Eventually he goes in for the kill. It’s a sweet kiss but it’s totally weird…

Why is it weird you ask. Well the obvious, “you still have a boyfriend dumbass!” and the slightly less obvious…as I said White Russian and I were college friends…sort of. He was one of my first friends at NYU. The first class I ever attended was Russian World Cultures and the White Russian happened to be in it. He was short and cute with an accent and kinda funny so we became friends. I was still dating my high school sweetheart at the time and honestly had no interest in other boys. Anyway, friends, we were friends. So after the semester ended my friend asked if he and another friend could come crash at my parents house in DC during winter break. They were going to be there for a convention. No problem. They came down, I showed them the town, introduced them to my friends, good times. After that, I don’t know if I saw the White Russian again for years. We ran into each other at a party or two but never actually made plans to hang out.

So one day my roommate comes home from his weekly bar night and mentions some weird connection where he feels like I might know this guy that he’s been drinking with for the past 4 years. I ask some questions and somehow determine that it must be my old college buddy. My roommate told me that he had invited the White Russian to an office party later that week and maybe I could run into him then. That I did. We ran into each other at the party and he invited me to his housewarming…which leads me to Saturday.

So there I am, halfway through a break up with Older Navy, kissing the White Russian on his rooftop. It’s 11:30 and I suddenly realize that I had promised to call Older Navy before it got to late. I tell the White Russian that I have a friend in need that I have to call before it gets to late but I had a nice time…blah blah blah. He tries to get me to stay but he’s a bit too gone to really stop me from leaving.

I call Older Navy about a block away from the party. We have the talk. Now, I never intended on this conversation going this way, and I certainly never meant to have it on the steps of a church in Gramercy Park. But I told him how he didn’t trust me and that was never going to work for me. I told him how we were, as much as I hate to admit it, in different places in our lives. He blamed me for the breakup. He said I was killing something wonderful and that I was cold and heartless and not willing to put in what it takes to make this work. I gave up and told him I would try.

Our next conversation was better but it still ended in that nebulous place where you don’t really know whether or not you are broken up. I had resigned myself to the breakup though which is why when the White Russian asked me out for dinner and a movie, I said yes.

My nice romantic dinner date with the White Russian turned into a completely awkward dinner with him and his cousin. Now I think his cousin is great, but the boy sure does love to talk. Considering this was sort of our first real date, it was weird to have family involved. But the White Russian had promised his cousin a night out before he went back to Chicago and our date night happened to be the night. I had tried really hard to find him a dinner date but I couldn’t find anyone until after dinner. My friend Hannah showed up for dessert where his cousin practically attacked her with flirting. Awkward!

After dessert he and I headed to his brother’s temporarily abandoned apartment to watch a DVD. We got through about 1/4 of it and we were done. We made out till 2am which is when we pulled out the sleeper sofa and fell asleep. We woke up at 6:30am when he scrambled to find work appropriate clothes and I searched for my bra. We hopped in a cab to go uptown and he got on his shuttle to work and I went home. He sent me text messages all day. It feels nice to be in this stage again…maybe I should just stay here.

Anyway things with me and the White Russian are not serious. We don’t seem to have too much in common or too much to talk about but it’s nice to have someone’s arms to rebound into. He’s sweet and attentive and doesn’t ask me a lot of questions about where I’ve been, what I’ve been doing and who I’m doing it with. It’s good and easy.

So all that, and I started my new job at MTV, which I love, and I’m in DC for the weekend, playing some shows and hanging with my parents. It’s a good old time.

So I promise to write more and I promise to keep you all posted on the Older Navy situation. Also, as soon as I figure out what the hell it is I do want, I’ll let you know that too. Older Navy had 99 percent of the things I want in a partner, trust is a big 1 percent.