How did I end up vacationing to Florida with a near-stranger?

Tyler and I won a trip to Panama City Beach playing cornhole (I know, right?). Obviously, due to life circumstances, we would no longer be taking the trip together. I asked him if I could have the trip, and he happily agreed.

As the trip got closer and closer, I realized I had no one to go with me. There were parts of me that were excited. I thought this could be some type of "Eat, Pray, Love" sabbatical bullshit, where I could "find myself." Other times, I was determined to find a road trip companion. So much so, that I thought about asking my new massage therapist, but a guy I was casually dating at the time urged (okay, begged) me NOT to do that. "Maybe DON'T ask your massage therapist that you have met twice." Good call, T (that's what we will call him).

Okay, you may be thinking, "Why not ask T?" We had been seeing each other (non-exclusively) for a few months. I do not have enough kind adjectives to describe T. He was kind, respectful, genuine, successful, a great communicator, the list could go on and on. That said, spending a full week with him on vacation would have driven me MAD. I view myself as very Monica-Geller-esque, but he takes it to a next level. I need to live in a land where I can SPILL, you know? If I drop a piece of popcorn on the couch, I need to know the world will keep spinning.

So, it's mid-April, and I am leaving for Florida on April 30. I am planning to go by myself, and I am at peace with this (my mother, however, was NOT).

I had a first date with a guy named Brad on April 13. The date went wonderfully (maybe I will blog about that some other time). We really, really hit it off. We organically learned that our upcoming PTO overlapped a bit (annually, he takes time off for Derby festivities). He expressed that he was bummed that he had time off work but wouldn't get to spend any with me. The following weekend, we went on a mini camping trip. I said, "You are going to think I am crazy, but do you want to go to Florida with me?"

Seven days later, we were packing the car and on our way to Panama City!

About halfway to Florida, I was filled with dread and regret. "What the fuck am I doing with my life? This was a terrible decision."

At first, I was worried that we wouldn't have enough to talk about in the car for 10 straight hours. Then, I quickly realized the opposite. Brad. Would. Not. Stop. Talking. I, quite frankly, was exhausted. "I will not last a week. I will not last a week."

He finally said something like, "I know I am talking your ear off. I am normally a quiet introvert! But when I am with you, I just want to tell you everything that's in my head."

I communicated that I was experiencing fatigue from all the conversation and would love to have some quiet time. During that quiet time, I, naturally, became overwhelmed with my own thoughts. I was worried that I was leading him on. While Brad was dating "intentionally," I was not. To myself, I thought, "You told this poor guy you are not looking for anything serious at the moment, yet you INVITE HIM TO TAKE A WEEK-LONG VACATION WITH YOU?"

He had to rearrange time off work. Find dog care. He SKIPPED his traditional Derby festivities with his friends (that he had already paid for). To spend time. With me.

"I am a terrible person."

Much to my surprise, Brad chilled while in Florida, and each day, I became more and more smitten (smitfaced, if you will). We had a lowkey week in Florida, doing typical Florida things—swimming, collecting sea shells, grilling, napping.

The week was so lowkey, we actually left a day early. It was storming, and we were just ready to be home. But we spent the remaining "vacation time" having a "staycation" instead.

I had plans to grab a drink with a guy (we will call him 'C') when I returned home (he knew I was going to Florida with 'some random guy I just met'). After returning home, I waited a few days to settle myself emotionally and determine what my plan of action would be. I finally texted C and politely informed him that I was calling off our plans, because I wanted to pursue "the random guy" exclusively. His response was so sweet, genuine and full of gratitude and best wishes. If more people were like T and C (and Brad, of course), dating in your 30s wouldn't be the atrocity that it is. I have so many nightmarish stories, all the way from ghosting, to someone drafting a movie script about me ("his muse") after our FIRST date (only to not be interested in me two weeks later) to FAKING HAVING A DOG. I did some impressive investigative creeping to find out that "Teddy" lives in a whole different state with a whole different family.

I am clearly getting off topic. Do I recommend asking a person you've known for 16 days to take a week-long vacation with you? Probably not. Did my best friend tell me this was a terrible, terrible plan and would not end well? Yes. Did my therapist SEVERELY FROWN UPON this "marathon date" and encourage me to stop "marathon dating" Brad? She absolutely did. Did I listen to my therapist? Nope.

Not me over here paying $145 out of pocket each session to ignore the guidance of my therapist.

SORRY NOT SORRY, Joyce.