After breaking so many hearts and not even giving some hearts a chance to break, I knew I’d get my payback someday. I just didn’t think it would happen with “M”.

First of all, he was way older than me. Like fifteen years old “older” – definitely too age-old to play games with me. Initially, I didn’t want to go out with him because of the age factor. And, he also had some other flaws I was willing to overlook at the behest of my better judgment, urging my inner self to “Shut the fuck up and give the older guy a chance.”

My sister was visiting from NYC that weekend and the two of us were poking around JDate, trying to fix me up with the next best match when we stumbled upon a guy who calls himself, “THE PIANO MAN”. While perusing the site, I got an instant message “Hello” which always intrigues me enough to go poking around a person’s profile for more details.

At first, “Piano Man” proved to be not all that impressive. Despite showcasing a beautiful, shiny grand piano in the background of his photo, this accompanied his not-so-beautiful existence as a person in the foreground. Lanky, silver-haired and nerdy overall – I wasn’t interested.

“Okay! Next!” I ordered my sister. And so she closed the dialogue box. Minutes later, another message from “M.” popped up telling me he just read my profile and noticed I enjoy the symphony. Then, he asked if I’d like to go to the symphony the following night – he had two box seats. Already, he hit my soft spot. I love the symphony as much as cupcakes, flying first class on international flights and any other luxurious offering in life. I love how hundreds of people play the very same piece of sheet music at the same time for an audience. Of course I wanted to go!

He picked me up the in the nicest car I’d ever been in – a Maserati Quattroporte. I was impressed and wondered what he did for a living. That, he kept secret and I didn’t want to pry too much either. I was quite sure this guy was used to gold diggers going after him like he was the California Gold Rush which is probably why he’s so secretive about how he got all the gold to begin with. I came up with this line of reasoning in my head while driving on the way to hear Mozart. “Lay off the questions,” I decided.

Once in our seats at the symphony, I wasn’t having the best time. In fact, I couldn’t remember not enjoying the symphony the way I didn’t with him. I spent the entire hour and a half analyzing “M.’s” features, trying to convince myself he’s not too old for me. Every time he looked over, I smiled, pretending to be moved by the music but instead, I was making quick transitions from squishing my eyebrows inwards scrutinizing him entirely. Luckily I have sharp reflexes.

At the end of our date, “M.” drove me home and it was like being dropped off by a regular friend but an older one. No kiss or stoic hug goodbye. Just simply, “It was nice to meet you.” And it was nice to meet him too. I thanked him and he thanked me and it was just so, unromantic and civil like an organized friendship play date for adults. And I kind of liked it.

On my way back toward my apartment, I chalked the whole thing up to a date gone “okay”. I also didn’t expect to hear from him again since there was no spark from either one of us. Relaying the night’s events to my sister, she thought my encounter with “M.” was strictly casual too and I shouldn’t expect to see him again. “It was probably a one-time thing,” my sister forecasted and I agreed.

“Maybe he was just lonely,” she suggested. But I highly doubted that. Really, how could a guy with such a nice car and symphony box seat tickets be lonely? Since there was no easy answer, my date with this guy became an enigma or sorts, impossible to figure out and so I abandoned all attempts at rationalizing this one-time event of a date forevermore.

My sister left back for NYC the following morning and literally, minutes after her plane had taken off and I couldn’t text for help if I wanted to, “M.” phoned and asked me for supper that evening. I had to make a quick solo decision. “Sure,” I thought. Another platonic friendship date? “Sounds great!” I told him.

Surprisingly, dinner conversation ended up being fun. “M.” was hilarious. He had an amazing sense of humor and had me laughing uproariously the entire time. He seemed to have loosened up overnight. Or, perhaps he’d grown more comfortable around me, enough to get out of his shell. All reason aside, age and looks were no longer an issue for me. I actually liked this guy for who he was and who he was, was great.

After dinner, he drove me home again. Parked in my driveway, “M.” asked if it would be alright to kiss me. I’d never been asked that before. This was a whole new realm of gentlemanly behavior I never experienced. It was a just-like-in-the-movies kind of “nice” that made me excited to kiss him. And it was a nice first kiss. So soft and gentle. Not wanting to push things beyond an innocent level, we both left at that – a simple kiss.

On my way back inside, I decided that going out with guys my own age or a few years older was overrated by society’s conventions. I’d never known such sweet a kiss from a gentleman existed in this day and age.

But then, much to my dismay, I didn’t hear from “M.” for days. And then, for days after that. I started to feel bad about myself. Was I a bad kisser? What didn’t he like about me? With a bruised ego, I didn’t even want to call and ask him about anything just in case he’d confirm my worst suspicion – that I, a young and attractive, fertile and effervescent woman might not be good enough for him in his mind.

Days went by and I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt such heartache over a boy. And this was a grown man! The worst part about it, we didn’t do anything but kiss. So why was I hurting like this?

I got my answer a few weeks later when “M.” called me out of the blue. He said he was out of town and he just got back. He also mentioned something about being distracted by the recent purchase of a new piano for his summer cottage. I didn’t quite understand the correlation but inquired, “A grand piano?” “But of course,” he answered. “Nothing less.” He wanted to know if I’d like to meet up with him for lunch in an hour. “It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other,” he reminded me.

After having hurt so badly over what now appeared to be a mere assumption on my part that he didn’t like me, I wanted to give him a little taste of his own medicine – to feel what it’s like to be inaccessible. I told him I had plans already but I’d call him back if it was possible to cancel and meet him instead. Truth is, I didn’t have any plans. And I didn’t call him back right away either. I took my time to make him sweat it. I took two hours to be exact. And then when I decided a considerable amount of time had elapsed, I phoned him to tell him I’d love to go out for lunch. But he didn’t answer my call.

Bored, with nothing to do that day, I went back on JDate to surf around. Then, I noticed he was online. Right there and then, in real time. Strange, I thought. I sent him a message but he didn’t respond to it. Was he ignoring me? I sent him one more message and he didn’t respond either. So I let it be. If he wanted me, he knew where to find me.

And that was that. It was the sweetest unfulfilled romance I’d had in a really long time and it made me realize that after being cautioned by the laws of karma for so long, heartbreak finally took its toll on me. It hurt. It hurt a lot, actually. But it made me think deeply and reevaluate things.

At first, I was resentful. I thought, “Here’s a guy with a beautiful car, box seat tickets to the symphony and several grand pianos – here’s a guy who figuratively shits pianos he’s so rich. He’s a piano shitter. Why am I hurt?” And then suddenly, it all made sense.

Here’s a guy who isn’t used to waiting for someone to say yes. It’s always yes to him. “Yes, I’ll have that piano over there!” or “Yes, I’ll meet you in five minutes!” This guy gets what he wants when he wants and I didn’t give it to him. Now neither of us got what we wanted from each other.

But I did get one thing out of the whole experience and that’s a major lesson: You win some and you lose some. You treat people one way and they’ll treat you another. Either way, as it happens, it’s unpredictable but it’s that very unpredictability that makes you feel alive and hopeful for the next one.

Do you think I took it too hard?