Too Busy for Love?

His friends think I'm married.

I mean, I got a good tongue-lashing last night from one of my male suitors. I'll call him Dean:

"I always have to call you. I'm always asking you to go out. It's always on your time and when you're available. You won't let me pick you up for a date. You never let me come over. I feel like I'm the female in the relationship," he said, frustrated.

We've been seeing each other for about a month and I do enjoy his company. But I'm a Southern Belle. Aren't men suppose to call you? Aren't they suppose to plan the dates?
What's his problem?

He went on:
"You won't let me pick you up because you say you're in D.C. and you're not suppose to let people know where you live. But then you tell me you're from Mississippi and men are suppose to call women. Which one is it? You can't have it both ways."

Why not? I asked.

He continued:
"I'm trying to figure things out. I want to spend time with you. I want to get to know you. But something always comes up. You never have time to do anything. You're never available. I don't know if you like me or not."

He wasn't finished:
"I don't know what I'm doing wrong. It's harder and harder to get you to do stuff. When I want to spend some quality time with you, something always comes up. Like I said, I feel like the female in this relationship. I always have to initiate everything. I'm always chasing you."

Again, isn't that what men are suppose to do? Women aren't suppose to chase men. Men are suppose to do the courting.

Finally he said:
"Look, I like you - a lot. You're smart. You have your own sh%t. You're cool to be around. But it's like you have your own thing going on and you don't want me to invade your space."

I was silent. Since I've been single I've filled my days with "stuff." Jazzercise six days a week, some yoga or Zumba, a little volunteering, a little traveling and whatever else I can find to do: a play, an exhibit, a festival, a book talk. I mentored for five years and for the past two years, school projects filled my time.

But I've also wanted male companionship: someone to have dinner with or go to a movie, a nice walk in the park on a warm sunny day or a drink on a rooftop during a cool summer night; and a little male affection wouldn't hurt — a hug, a kiss, someone to hold my hand.

Then Dean asked: "Do you want a boyfriend? Do you want a man?"

I do. But maybe I've gotten so used to making sure I'm busy that I've forgotten how to date. Or maybe: he's not the one?

What are your thoughts?