It feels like a relevant time to say a bit about Henry. I don’t know if Henry and I will ever go on a date. I’ve thought he was amazing for nearly 8 years. And in the spirit of learning this year to acknowledge my heart, and let it set the agenda, I MUST honor this. I must at least try.

By tomorrow, I have an important decision to make: where to spend Covid Jan-Feb 2021. Argentina is suuuuuper high on the list (well, foreigners are currently disallowed from coming, but maybe if I wait it out in Colombia that will change). It’s warm, I have friend and professional connections, there’s US time zone, access to outdoor parks — all objective criteria for a tolerable covid winter for the location independent are clearly met. And oh yeah, Henry is currently there. Small bonus.

This requires another flashback to the dramatic rising-self-confidence story of Jan-Mar 2020.

In March, I had the opportunity to see Henry in person. He was one of my professors in grad school, and I periodically stayed in touch with him. I should mention he’s 15 years older than me. And divorced (I’m told), with grown kids. And a former Olympian. And I think I’ve been in love with him from the very first lecture he ever gave in my grad program.

“Waaaaay out of your league!!!” is the tangible ringing in my ears whenever the thought crosses my mind.

You can see why I never pursued anything with him. But, wait. Is he really?? I say to myself. I’m young, athletic-ish, healthy. Command a respectable hourly rate. Making waves professionally. Proven myself in multiple careers. Impress the pants off of him, apparently. Am an intellectual force, super creative and interesting. Worthy of him. Words I tell myself.

And could he be interested??? He is poor at responding to emails. But his body language when we talk is so clearly and visibly engaged. He’s positively charming and super thrilled every time I’ve come to see him. (He’s Argentinian– of course they are charming! Don’t be such a fool! It’s just them, this is not about you! That’s 99% likely correct. But the 1% likelihood still lingers on in my mind.)

So back to March. We are finishing our chat and departing, and I express I am so happy he looks good and seems healthy. He responds gratefully but expresses some fear of the looming 65 (a decade away), to which I quickly reply:

“Ah no worries, I have by now dated someone 57 years old, so you’re fine.”

His response to this:

“Oooh, so I am in your dating range!”

That 1% likelihood just doubled to a whopping 2%!!! This is now a number that commands respect. Worth risking exposing my inner core, being vulnerable, and having it all shattered.

Perhaps something I failed to mention is what compels me about Henry. Take any of my 25 dates so far on this 30d30d mission. NOT ONE comes even close to eliciting in me the type of reaction that Henry does when we talk. I am just putty when he speaks. Being in his presence brings me such great joy. Consistently. And that is it. I cannot explain it, and I will not defend it. It won’t likely change in the near future (It’s been 8 years! My god..), so the question is do I risk failure (Answer should always be yes!) and try something that is very unlikely to work out (Again yes!) for the sake of love?

After he said that ‘dating range’ comment, perhaps had I not been tired, newly jet lagged, or hungry-nervous, I might have retorted quickly, “Well I would totally date you! Are you available?” or followed the hug-goodbye with, “Perhaps next time better to do this over drinks!” But no, the stupid-brain is inoperable! Instead I talk about how fit the 57 year old is ;-P.

We end with a great goodbye hug.

Simultaneously elated and dejected, I soon formulate a follow-up plan for my return from California next week. I will find another excuse to soon come to Boston, and ask a mutual professor friend whether he knows of Henry’s status and interests, before taking the massive risk and asking him out. I egg myself on, I am ready, this is going to happen, yes yes yes.

And a week later. March 15, 2020. I am stranded in the Czech Republic.

That. Blessed. Pandemic.

Our sole correspondence since March has involved me sharing my first academic publication with him, to which he responded instantly with great support and encouragement and joy. His sign off “take care” though implied a lack of explicit ongoing interest, so here I sit confused. (I later ask an Argentinian friend about this. He says “take care” is a customary sign-off, not any implication of reduced ongoing interest.)

So, here’s to a 2% probability guy. Someone who I can’t get out of my mind, and absolutely love to be around, who is way out of my league… who may or may not be available or up for having round 2 of kids, and may or may not ever turn into a Date #27. Perhaps I’ve benefited from a year of 30d30d in maturing myself before proffering myself to Henry. Or, perhaps there’s no rationalization for a real covid-year loss, but I can still suck it up and try again.

Godspeed Henry.