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THERE'S SOMETHING ABOUT TIMMY

I hop on a couple of dating apps—Tinder and Bumble. It’s too soon to contemplate anything serious, but I want to see what the guys are like in Sunset Cay.

It’ll help to deal with my brain that’s racing to process my breakup. And what harm is there in a bit of window shopping, after all? Maybe flirt a bit, and have some connections before I arrive.

It’s a nice distraction from this horrible moment in my life. I can swipe through cute guys and have conversations with some of them. It takes my mind off the general shitness of ‘now’, and makes me focused on what could be. And, when the time is right, I’m hopeful I can find someone who wants me, someone who loves me and shows me in the way I need.

And in terms of where my heart is at, my relationship has been platonic for so long that I feel no sense of intimate connection with my ex. It’s almost like I broke up with him mentally and emotionally—and definitely physically—a long time ago, so I feel more ready than what might be considered normal after most breakups.

I chit-chat with a few guys, and it’s fun. It’s been so long since I’ve felt that someone has had any form of interest in me, that they might find me attractive. I’m very sure that most of the guys on here are fuckboys looking for hookups, but I found my long-term partner of six years this way, so there are some gems in there, too. Giving myself a head start in weeding some of them out before I get there will only help to save wasting time with a bunch of assholes.

There are a few guys that catch my attention early on. There’s Nate, a guy who’s ex-military and lives in town. He’s a foodie too, and likes exploring the local restaurant and bar scene. He responds scarily quickly to everything I say, and then is apologetic and defensive on the rare occasion when he doesn’t respond straight away. I get the impression he’s had a past partner who maybe expected instant replies.

“Hey, I don’t expect an instant response, by the way,” I say. He then ghosts me for a few weeks.

Then there’s Rex, a surfing instructor who promises to teach me. He seems like a straightforward, laid-back person who likes to spend his free time relaxing. Which honestly sounds like just what I need right now. I’m so tired of my work, laying people off and giving bad news, that the thought of someone who leads an uncomplicated life could be really nice.

Then there’s Michael. He seems to be some kind of millionaire businessman, always off on some exciting travel adventure but with a home base on the island. He has an ex-wife and a few kids, which isn’t something I’d considered before, but he has a similar passion for fitness and he’s quite witty over chat. His age doesn’t show up on the app, which seems weird as everyone else’s does. And the more I think about his success career-wise and his intense approach to life, the more I start to feel slight serial killer vibes.

And then I notice a new match. Timmy, 39. The first thing I think when I see his pictures is that this guy looks like a character. His bio is disarming, very non-threatening, and suggests he’s looking for friends and that he likes surprises. He sounds spontaneous and funny and low-pressure. His pictures are interesting, and he’s got the cheekiest grin like he’s up to mischief. He has a couple of photos that I find unusual–in one, he has what appears to be some kind of branch around his neck .

And I notice he’s sent me a message.

Timmy:

Omg hello Margaux. Your cute.

I resist the urge to write you’re*, and instead I take the compliment.

Me:

Thank you!.

Timmy:

Omg I was so hoping you would say hi.

Mmm hmm.

So, you do anything interesting lately?

I’m waiting for a new renovation job site to start.

Going bonkers. I haven’t worked for two days!!

His words resonate with me. I’m working, but in a dead man walking kind of way. It’s driving me bonkers. So I completely get the sentiment.

He messages again straight away:

Timmy:

Ohhh we have the same eyes.

I look closer at one of his pictures, and he’s right, we do have the same eyes! Blue, with a darker blue ring on the outsides. And flecks of hazel or green throughout our pupils, depending on the light.

But that’s where the similarities in our appearances stop.

Because I’m a pale-ass ginger on the short side, with freckles and a dimple, and he is one extremely cute surfer boy, with long brown hair that flows wildly around his face, and smooth, deeply tanned skin .

He has the cutest smile–cheeky and confident, and his eyes are kind.

He has tattoos, too, all over his arms, chest and back—my weakness.

And he’s muscular. Drool.

He looks like he’s having fun in every photo, genuinely enjoying himself.

So much better than the photos where guys pose with fish, or where there are so many people in the photo you end up playing Where’s Waldo to figure out which one is him.

I scan his profile. It says his interests are surfing, cooking, dancing, movies and beach bars. All things I like. Well, I don’t really dance much anymore, but I’m still into the other things.

It says he’s looking for new friends. Great, me too.

He’s a Cancer. Hmm, so was my mom, and she’s super problematic, but it’s more about the person than the star sign. I like astrology, but I don’t think it always tells you everything about a person, and can make it too easy to stereotype.

According to his profile, he has a Bachelor’s degree, he’s vaccinated, and his love style is ‘thoughtful gestures’. I’m not seeing anything bad here so far.

Pets: pet-free. Hmm, that’s okay. As long as he likes animals. And there’s a picture of him with dogs, and another with birds, so I have a feeling he does.

Drinking: socially on weekends. Okay, that’s good. Me too. Well, I also have a few drinks during the week while I relax. So it would be good to be around someone who keeps it to the weekends. He might even be a good influence on me!

Smoking: Non-smoker. Awesome, because that’s a bit of a deal-breaker for me. I can’t stand the smell of cigarette smoke, and it’s just such a waste of money, in my opinion. Cancer sticks.

Cannabis: occasionally. Great, me too.

Workout: often. Amazing! I need a gym buddy when I move to the island .

This sounds like someone I’d like to meet. Someone I could be friends with, if nothing else.

Timmy:

Where are you moving? Oh to Sunset Cay? You’re not here yet?

Me:

Yeah, next month.

I’d move sooner, but have to wait for my cat to get his rabies test so he can come too.

Timmy:

Yay, welcome! And good morning to you!

Later in the day, he messages again.

Timmy:

How’s your afternoon going?

Me:

Good. Getting my apartment sorted out so I can move.

Where’d you drive to?

Timmy:

Running errands.

At home relaxing now.

What are you up to?

I don’t see his message for a while, and he follows up with another.

Timmy:

Can you surf?

Me:

I took a lesson a few months ago.

I really enjoyed it, but I’m not very good.

When I had my lesson in December and they had me practice on the sand. I fell off.

ON THE SAND!

I still think of my surfing lesson often, even though it was a few months ago. I felt invincible, soaring along the water, propelled by the sheer power of the ocean, and I can’t wait to do it again. To live in a place where I can even make it part of my daily routine!

Timmy:

We can fix that!

My stomach does an excited flip.

The thought of this guy teaching me to surf makes me smile.

How fun!

I’m sure if I practice a few times a week, I’ll get my confidence up fairly quickly. There’s nothing quite like the feeling of zooming along a wave, and that’s when I don’t even really know what I’m doing! Imagine being good at it, being confident about making turns and riding bigger waves. Bliss! And practicing my roller skating can only help with surfing, with both being so good for your balance and core.

He bombards me with a series of funny GIFs of people surfing while sitting on deck chairs and playing electric guitar. I laugh.

Timmy:

I’ll call you a little later. I’ve got to go see a friend.

Me:

Lol, I’m not much of a phone call person.

I’m really not. I’m much better at texting than talking. Especially with people I’ve never met. Especially in my current anxious state.

Timmy:

I’ll just have to wait to see you then… I’m really easy to talk to .

His simple response brings me comfort. Not pushy, just waiting until I’m ready for him.

I respect and appreciate his patience. I don’t want to be with someone who pushes too hard. I want someone who accepts me for who I am and who is willing to accommodate my timeframes.

His patience is soothing.

A couple of days later, he messages again.

Timmy:

Hurry up.

Me:

Working on it! My cat was officially approved for my apartment today.

He sends me several cat GIFs.

A man who sends cat GIFs? Be still, my heart.

Timmy:

Check out my special hat and my crazy sunglasses!

When I put my special hat on, people look at me like I’m Miss America!

It’s an interesting thing to say, and it makes me laugh. He sends me a picture of himself in said hat, and some very unconventional sunglasses. He looks like quite a character. This guy must be like five-foot-two, for sure, I think. One of those short, extra funny, flamboyant types of guy. There’s no other explanation for it.

But he says he’s looking for friends, and he seems like he would be fun to maintain a conversation with and go out for a drink or something with when I get there. He seems kind of like a low-threat, high-fun type of person. And that’s definitely what I need in my life.

The days continue to creep by slowly, and I find myself getting more agitated. I’ve started to pack, and having suitcases splayed around the apartment that I used to share with my former partner is depressing and… well, weird .

All I can do is continue to skate around and force myself to eat from time to time.

Work has become almost unbearable by this point, and I’ve already said most of my goodbyes.

My anxiety is peaking, and I start having intrusive thoughts that keep me up at night.

I’m second-guessing myself on everything, and in constant panic mode.

On impulse, I reach out to the leasing agent at my apartment in Sunset Cay. “Is there a possibility of moving sooner?”

“Yep, we can get you in a few weeks earlier if that works for you. Just let us know the exact date.”

That’s one of the good things about a brand new apartment. You’re not waiting for someone to move out.

I check things on the San Francisco end, too. “Any chance I can end my lease sooner than expected?”

“Well, you’ve technically started your notice period, so you need to wait that out or pay a fee.”

I check my airfare, and I’m able to change flights at no extra cost.

I weigh things up. Staying here feels like torture. I’m a mess, and I’m starting to worry about my mental health.

The move is so close, yet so far.

Even though paying a lease break penalty fee for my current apartment seems like a gigantic waste of money, I decide to prioritize my mental health and I bring the move forward.

The one logistical thing I still have to figure out is my cat and the quarantine situation. His rabies test is stuck in the backlog somewhere in Texas or wherever. Worst-case scenario, he’ll have to stay at the quarantine facility for a while, which gives me cause for concern, but is something I figure I’ll work through.

Later that day

Timmy:

Wassup. You moving on the first?

Me:

Well, I did a thing today.

I was meant to be moving on the 23rd of this month.

But now I’m moving 2 weeks from today!

Timmy:

Yay. That’s awesome. You’ll be surfing in no time!!

Me:

Hopefully!

He moves the conversation from the app to text pretty quickly, and I’m fine with that. Every time he texts me, I get butterflies.

He chats about his day, what he’s doing. Running a lot of errands and working a lot on renovating condos around the coast. His work sounds interesting, and he gets all excited about it, which is cute.

Job? Check.

Excitement for life? Check.

Cute? Check.

Surfs? Check.

Funny? Check.

He’s checking all the boxes.

He insists on a phone call, and by this point, I’m ready for it.

“Hey Margaux! I’m so glad you wanted to speak on the phone with me!”

His voice is deep, resonant. He sounds hot as hell. And the way he says my name… my god, I’m instantly wet.

And he has this quirky speech pattern that’s ultra-American combined with ultra-surfer boy, ultra-outgoing.

His laugh makes me smile.

He has a quirky sense of humor, just like me.

He seems adventurous and carefree and fun .

Everything about this guy makes me smile from ear to ear.

I can’t wait to meet him in person.

Of course, I’m not putting all my eggs in one basket, and I’m going to continue chatting with other people.

But there’s something about Timmy that makes me smile a bit wider, makes my heart beat a little bit faster.

Timmy gives me butterflies that I haven’t felt in years.