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The week following my sad Christmas was strange at work. I was doing yoga every day, which is the shit by the way, and feeling a lot better as a person. BP might be mildly interesting in me as a distraction but I don't see a future with some guy who has so little interest in me.
Work Guy's parting words "It's sad you don't know how to chase someone you love" kept echoing in my ears. Have I missed out on someone special because my pride was too great and kept me from pursuing love when I thought I would meet rejection? I always felt like if someone didn't want me, they weren't worth it to bend down, lift their ego up, and beg for something they weren't going to give me anyway.
I still stare at my feet when Work Guy crosses my path. He looks at me, waiting to be acknowledged, but I can't do it. I want to disappear.
Back to the evil internet dating. I browse, put some feelers out there, and actually found a guy I was remotely interested in. He lives near the slope, is a year older, went to Catholic school for 13 years and, according to his pictures, is hot. We've emailed a couple times but we'll see where that goes.
At any rate, I am feeling more ME again. Not needing anything, just going with the yoga flow.
Yesterday at work, the branch manager position gets posted again for Salt Lake. I couldn't contain myself! Maybe Work Guy would move and I would never have to see him again. My slow, slithering healing process would speed up and I would stop dreaming about him! I forwarded the email to him and asked if he was going to reapply. Unfortunately, he had promised with his recent promotion to stay in that position for a year... Hopes dashed, I plummetted back to earth. I would have to see him every day for another year. No speedy recovery in my future.
We ended up emailing back and forth. I told him about yoga, he commented something about my mich ultra (the guy had to have thought I was an alcoholic), I emailed back how I can't manage the beer and yoga, he sent me picks of his best guy friend doing yoga, which led to him claiming he could do the splits.. Today I told him to prove it. Friendly banter. Asshole probably didn't understand how much that hurt.
Finally, I did something I have forbidden myself to do at work. I spoke to him. As he passed by (like he does several times a day) I told him I wanted a demonstration of his splits. He hedged. I was making him extremely uncomfortable. I took hold of that and boosted my confidence like I haven't had in a looooooooooooooooooooong time. I remembered how I used to be able to tongue tie him and outwit the cleverest come back. I won, this time.
As he walked away, a little unnerved that I'd spoken to him, I was so hopped up on my insignificant victory that I misjudged my own power and knocked my water all over the desk. I spent the next ten minutes cleaning up. He didn't see. Thank God.
The day was wrapping up and my boss stopped by the desk to invite me to happy hour. Not everyone gets invited. I asked if my old boss was going to be there. Affirmative. Hmm. I really want to go to yoga. I brought my bag. But I need to play a little of the corporate game, right? This is how a person can swing coming in late and slacking off occasionally and get s promoted. It worked for Work Guy.
Then I was stupid enough to ask who else would be there. Another sales rep and Work Guy. Of course. I immediately started to sweat. If I went, I would have to pretend everything was hunky dory. If I didn't go I might lose out on future invites and it would be reported that I declined because my ex would be present. I had to be brave.
So, I went. I got there ahead of my boss. The sales rep was one from my training class, older guy and nice enough so he started talking away. I talked with Work Guy as if we had always been friends and nothing more. I was sweating so bad! It's cold outside but I was more nervous than a prostitute in church. I had resolved to have one beer, head home to drink copious amounts of water and go to yoga. My boss bought me another beer when I was hedging to leave. Work Guy had ordered two drinks, so I thought his girlfriend was going to show up any minute. I had to leave, had to, had to, had to. But they were both for him.
After a heated politically incorrect conversation I decided to have a cigarette. My boss joined me and I mentioned how I thought I had made Work Guy sufficiently uncomfortable by coming.
"Good! He needs that. The guy puts on a brave face but I don't think he's as confident as he'd like everyone to believe."
We segued into work stuff, I got the insider perspective and all was good with the world. Back at the table my old boss brought up the guy I sit next to who I call affectionately The Serial Killer in Training, mostly because he looks like Elijah Woods in "Sin City". Old Boss asked if we'd gotten up to any more antics this week. I felt Work Guy's ears perk up and his eyes dart in my direction. I laughed and simply told the story about our music fight. We were friends, he has a girlfriend. Nice Guy, not a lech like Work Guy. Didn't say that, but eluded to the fact that there was nothing there but a work friendship.
Work Guy left before I did so I wouldn't have to worry about walking alone in a parking lot where he had first kissed me with him watching and knowing.
It was like being a parallel universe. The one I should have stayed in before ever becoming involved with him in any way. The one where I would have kept on believing he was an entertaining lech who was fun to be friends with instead of my current domain where I fell in love with him even though I knew I would never be what he wanted.
So I drove home, knowing that after those two wretched beers I would be unable to do a standing bow pose which as what I would rather have been doing than drinking with those people. I missed out doing something I loved just to put on a brave face and show that I could still hang like the rest of them. That I am impervious.
I think this might be my problem. In my quest to not be That Girl, I block out any opportunities I might have with my stone cold frigid wall.
Friday, December 30, 2011
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Merry Christmas
This year my sister and brother-in-law were spending Christmas in Kentucky or Arkansas or Tennessee or some other backward country state. That left just my lovely mother and I. Sigh. I really am going to be that old spinster who gets stuck taking care of her mother while everyone else has a life of their own.
Monday before Christmas, BP texts
"What are you up to tonight?"
I respond
"Hot yoga at 4"
No response.
The next day he asks if I want to get a drink after work. I am chagrined to take a day off of yoga but decide I can swing it. We meet at a local bar I used to frequent at work happy hours with Work Guy. Meeting after 6 was ideal as I would not be running into the evil bastard who broke my heart.
What can I say? It was an uneventful evening where we sat over a couple beers talking, sort of, and were waited on by the same waitress who waits on my work people. BP had made it clear what he doesn't like to hear from women, ie cute anecdotes about their animals, how they shopped for wrapping paper with their mothers. I didn't know what to say.
At some point he mentioned how his friend had scored tickets to Guns N Roses. I had a heart attack! I love GNR, love, love, love them! BP goes on to say how he wants to get tickets. I dance around in my seat saying how I would , yes again, love to see them. No forthcoming invite. I wanted to kick him.
Later, BP says how he will have a lot of people at his house for Christmas Eve and Christmas, but he might be able to sneak away to see me. Ummm.. ok. What the hell? He can't invite me over or stop by my mom's place for an hour? I didn't push, I didn't ask. If this guy actually liked me at ALL he would stop making statements of maybes and start making some plans. Small plans. Like why don't we find a time to hang out for a little while during all the Christmas turmoil. Even if it doesn't pan out, it would still be nice to know he wanted to.
I asked what he plans on doing with his Monday off. Well, thought he might pick up some toys, meaning these off road things he sells for a living, and take out his friends. I mention how excited I am to have Monday off. No invite. Then, oh my gosh, maybe I could come along, we'll see how things work out. Can you say brush off?
We talked about people from high school, I made a couple comments about guys I had dated, which surprised him and I think he was beginning to feel like I was a used toy that too many people had played with. I really need to learn to keep my mouth SHUT.
The following day at work we got out two hours early. Work Guy was absent, therefore I was invited to happy hour with my old and current bosses. I went back to the bar I had been to the night before hoping that it was our waitress' night off. No luck. She artfully asked in front of people if the guy I was in with the night before was my new man. No, we were just dating. My old boss asked "Why, Miss Kate, are you dating again?" I felt so uncomfortable. This guy was good friends with the ex. I shrugged and said "You could loosely term it that way."
Christmas Eve I drove to CG with dread. I love my mother, I really do. But we have never gotten along very well. Here I am, destined to spend the next 30 hours with her by myself while she will be wishing that my sister was there. It went better than expected.
We ate dinner, watched a couple movies and went to bed. In the morning we opened a couple presents and ate breakfast. With the yoga DVD and mat I bought her, I pushed the idea of a little yoga before I got ready to clean offices. She muttered through out the entire thing that she couldn't do it exactly the way the bitch in the tape did,
A look at my phone had a text from BP. He stopped by the house an hour before, didn't want to brave the dogs (he had met before) in the front yard and left a present next to my car. Hadn't tried to call. Just texted when he left.
I was bewildered. One hand said "This is a nice gesture." The other said "Why would he get you a gift and not bother to say hello when he left it?" So I retrieved the holiday bag with my name written on it from beside my tire. It contained a bottle of perfume and his business card. Weird. The perfume smelled good but why did he leave his business card?
I texted him thank you and sorry I had missed him. All I got back was "Your welcome" which made me miss Work Guy because I had always accidentally misused your for you're and he had claimed it was endearing. Lying bastard. After a few more dwindling texts I didn't hear from BP that evening or the following day. My house was silent and I felt like the holiday cheer had completely bypassed me, as if this year Christmas never really came.
Facebook revealed that BP had gone out with his friends and their toys, but he never asked what I was doing. The next day I read an article which said if a guy doesn't make the effort, or makes way too much effort, he's not into you. I nodded. This was correct. I tried texting BP, a few dwindling texts in response. I give up. This guy, who I have known for almost half my life, is a nice guy.
He's just not going to be the guy for me.
Monday before Christmas, BP texts
"What are you up to tonight?"
I respond
"Hot yoga at 4"
No response.
The next day he asks if I want to get a drink after work. I am chagrined to take a day off of yoga but decide I can swing it. We meet at a local bar I used to frequent at work happy hours with Work Guy. Meeting after 6 was ideal as I would not be running into the evil bastard who broke my heart.
What can I say? It was an uneventful evening where we sat over a couple beers talking, sort of, and were waited on by the same waitress who waits on my work people. BP had made it clear what he doesn't like to hear from women, ie cute anecdotes about their animals, how they shopped for wrapping paper with their mothers. I didn't know what to say.
At some point he mentioned how his friend had scored tickets to Guns N Roses. I had a heart attack! I love GNR, love, love, love them! BP goes on to say how he wants to get tickets. I dance around in my seat saying how I would , yes again, love to see them. No forthcoming invite. I wanted to kick him.
Later, BP says how he will have a lot of people at his house for Christmas Eve and Christmas, but he might be able to sneak away to see me. Ummm.. ok. What the hell? He can't invite me over or stop by my mom's place for an hour? I didn't push, I didn't ask. If this guy actually liked me at ALL he would stop making statements of maybes and start making some plans. Small plans. Like why don't we find a time to hang out for a little while during all the Christmas turmoil. Even if it doesn't pan out, it would still be nice to know he wanted to.
I asked what he plans on doing with his Monday off. Well, thought he might pick up some toys, meaning these off road things he sells for a living, and take out his friends. I mention how excited I am to have Monday off. No invite. Then, oh my gosh, maybe I could come along, we'll see how things work out. Can you say brush off?
We talked about people from high school, I made a couple comments about guys I had dated, which surprised him and I think he was beginning to feel like I was a used toy that too many people had played with. I really need to learn to keep my mouth SHUT.
The following day at work we got out two hours early. Work Guy was absent, therefore I was invited to happy hour with my old and current bosses. I went back to the bar I had been to the night before hoping that it was our waitress' night off. No luck. She artfully asked in front of people if the guy I was in with the night before was my new man. No, we were just dating. My old boss asked "Why, Miss Kate, are you dating again?" I felt so uncomfortable. This guy was good friends with the ex. I shrugged and said "You could loosely term it that way."
Christmas Eve I drove to CG with dread. I love my mother, I really do. But we have never gotten along very well. Here I am, destined to spend the next 30 hours with her by myself while she will be wishing that my sister was there. It went better than expected.
We ate dinner, watched a couple movies and went to bed. In the morning we opened a couple presents and ate breakfast. With the yoga DVD and mat I bought her, I pushed the idea of a little yoga before I got ready to clean offices. She muttered through out the entire thing that she couldn't do it exactly the way the bitch in the tape did,
A look at my phone had a text from BP. He stopped by the house an hour before, didn't want to brave the dogs (he had met before) in the front yard and left a present next to my car. Hadn't tried to call. Just texted when he left.
I was bewildered. One hand said "This is a nice gesture." The other said "Why would he get you a gift and not bother to say hello when he left it?" So I retrieved the holiday bag with my name written on it from beside my tire. It contained a bottle of perfume and his business card. Weird. The perfume smelled good but why did he leave his business card?
I texted him thank you and sorry I had missed him. All I got back was "Your welcome" which made me miss Work Guy because I had always accidentally misused your for you're and he had claimed it was endearing. Lying bastard. After a few more dwindling texts I didn't hear from BP that evening or the following day. My house was silent and I felt like the holiday cheer had completely bypassed me, as if this year Christmas never really came.
Facebook revealed that BP had gone out with his friends and their toys, but he never asked what I was doing. The next day I read an article which said if a guy doesn't make the effort, or makes way too much effort, he's not into you. I nodded. This was correct. I tried texting BP, a few dwindling texts in response. I give up. This guy, who I have known for almost half my life, is a nice guy.
He's just not going to be the guy for me.
Sunday, December 18, 2011
Work Holdiay Party: Year Two
Sitting on my patio with Mel some time in November I mentioned casually that I'd asked BP to be my work party date. I dreaded going it alone knowing that Work Guy would be there, probably with his newest conquest who would undoubtedly be thinner than me. She smiled and nodded. She gave me this look that said "Good, you NEED to have a date to THIS function."
I couldn't help it. My heart constricted. So he shall not be named has moved on. Mel is on a committee with Work Guy and hears all his latest exploits which she keeps from in hopes I will move on too.
"So he has a new girlfriend?" I sounded small and like I would cry. She immediately felt awful for telling me.
"I wouldn't call her his girlfriend, he just says they're 'seeing each other' very pointedly. The way he talks about her, man, he is a Douche. Who the fuck would want to date his fat ass anyway." I love Mel, she always says the right thing in the least eloquent way possible.
She changed the subject but I was breaking apart inside. It is so wrong to have to hear about your ex moving on, seeing it every day at work, when you're left a shadow of a person. NEVER date someone you work with. NEVER.
So, the Holiday Party rolls around and I have the unfortunate experience of dress shopping a few hours before. I need to look good. Not for Work Guy but for my pride. He will have some skinny little thing hanging off his arm whom he has probably told every gross detail of my inferior-ness to her beauty and I will have to walk around looking my absolute best knowing this.
I chose a strapless ruffled dress I hoped wouldn't make me look too chunky. I ran to Victoria's Secret to buy a strapless bra, having not owned an outfit which would require one in many a year, I was out of practice. No one would help me. I chose the only one I could find and went to the dressing room. It fit weird. I asked for help and had a toddler pick a few out that might work. When I asked for a larger size in one she told me "Well, that bra is made for younger women so it really doesn't go up into your size." I stared. I am not, by any means, a busty lady. Nor am I eligible for medicare for the next few decades. What the fuck does she mean by "younger"? I contemplated telling her that I had worked at VS before she even had boobs but in thought that would kill my whole age case.
I bought the bra I started out with and resolved I would never go back to that store.
I hurried home to get ready at lightning speed. BP showed up looking dapper in a button down shirt and tie. No cowboy outfit like he had threatened. When I came out in my dress, heels and red jewelry he gave me a very appreciative look. I blushed. However he did not tell me I looked amazing or take me into his arms to kiss me passionately. Deja vu reminded me, yet again, that I do not live in a romance novel.
Mel and her man met us at the house and we all took BP's truck to the party. I was a little worried about getting upset, but BP is fun to be around and I looked forward to dancing. I walked in, just like last year and Work Guy was standing in exactly the same place. There was eye contact for about a second before I looked back at my handsome date. I was determined to have a fun time.
And we did. Besides the fact that the lady who runs the whole party took my plus one to mean only one and gave me half the drink tickets I should have had and later had to be hunted down to get a poker pass for the whole casino playing thing.... We laughed, drank and were marry.
BP was the perfect date. Attentive but not grabby. Understood I had to schmooze a little and was content entertaining himself. We gambled, I line danced, he put up with loud Mel and her even louder boyfriend. He draped his arm around me casually, leaned in to talk, rubbed my leg affectionately. Told me I had to keep that dress on all night.
Some mutual friends of Work Guy came over to say hi. They were unintentionally sitting at the table behind us... with Work Guy and his midget date. I swear to God she was 5"3" in heels and walked like they were killing her. She was cute and petite in a simple black dress with her brown hair pulled half back. She was pretty, but not the bombshell I was dreading. They seemed newly dating and uncomfortable. I felt a little sorry for them. But not too much.
Mel told me later that she overheard them fighting. Apparently New Girl was ripping Work Guy a new asshole and he just looked in the other direction. Sigh, I remember that. Lucky lady. The rest of the evening I didn't see them much together and once caught her sitting at the table not talking to anyone, yawning. I hope he marries that one.
While BP did not dance with me he sat at the table and watched, laughed at out antics. I won baseball tickets in the raffle due to his gambling. We went home with Mel and her man to build a fire, drink and laugh some more. I changed into sweat pants, to BP's disappointment.
At some point, after SEVERAL glasses of wine, Mel asked BP his intentions. It became very clear he didn't have any so I answered for him. "It's just sex." He laughed, but I gave up. That was all this is and it will soon go away.
I couldn't help it. My heart constricted. So he shall not be named has moved on. Mel is on a committee with Work Guy and hears all his latest exploits which she keeps from in hopes I will move on too.
"So he has a new girlfriend?" I sounded small and like I would cry. She immediately felt awful for telling me.
"I wouldn't call her his girlfriend, he just says they're 'seeing each other' very pointedly. The way he talks about her, man, he is a Douche. Who the fuck would want to date his fat ass anyway." I love Mel, she always says the right thing in the least eloquent way possible.
She changed the subject but I was breaking apart inside. It is so wrong to have to hear about your ex moving on, seeing it every day at work, when you're left a shadow of a person. NEVER date someone you work with. NEVER.
So, the Holiday Party rolls around and I have the unfortunate experience of dress shopping a few hours before. I need to look good. Not for Work Guy but for my pride. He will have some skinny little thing hanging off his arm whom he has probably told every gross detail of my inferior-ness to her beauty and I will have to walk around looking my absolute best knowing this.
I chose a strapless ruffled dress I hoped wouldn't make me look too chunky. I ran to Victoria's Secret to buy a strapless bra, having not owned an outfit which would require one in many a year, I was out of practice. No one would help me. I chose the only one I could find and went to the dressing room. It fit weird. I asked for help and had a toddler pick a few out that might work. When I asked for a larger size in one she told me "Well, that bra is made for younger women so it really doesn't go up into your size." I stared. I am not, by any means, a busty lady. Nor am I eligible for medicare for the next few decades. What the fuck does she mean by "younger"? I contemplated telling her that I had worked at VS before she even had boobs but in thought that would kill my whole age case.
I bought the bra I started out with and resolved I would never go back to that store.
I hurried home to get ready at lightning speed. BP showed up looking dapper in a button down shirt and tie. No cowboy outfit like he had threatened. When I came out in my dress, heels and red jewelry he gave me a very appreciative look. I blushed. However he did not tell me I looked amazing or take me into his arms to kiss me passionately. Deja vu reminded me, yet again, that I do not live in a romance novel.
Mel and her man met us at the house and we all took BP's truck to the party. I was a little worried about getting upset, but BP is fun to be around and I looked forward to dancing. I walked in, just like last year and Work Guy was standing in exactly the same place. There was eye contact for about a second before I looked back at my handsome date. I was determined to have a fun time.
And we did. Besides the fact that the lady who runs the whole party took my plus one to mean only one and gave me half the drink tickets I should have had and later had to be hunted down to get a poker pass for the whole casino playing thing.... We laughed, drank and were marry.
BP was the perfect date. Attentive but not grabby. Understood I had to schmooze a little and was content entertaining himself. We gambled, I line danced, he put up with loud Mel and her even louder boyfriend. He draped his arm around me casually, leaned in to talk, rubbed my leg affectionately. Told me I had to keep that dress on all night.
Some mutual friends of Work Guy came over to say hi. They were unintentionally sitting at the table behind us... with Work Guy and his midget date. I swear to God she was 5"3" in heels and walked like they were killing her. She was cute and petite in a simple black dress with her brown hair pulled half back. She was pretty, but not the bombshell I was dreading. They seemed newly dating and uncomfortable. I felt a little sorry for them. But not too much.
Mel told me later that she overheard them fighting. Apparently New Girl was ripping Work Guy a new asshole and he just looked in the other direction. Sigh, I remember that. Lucky lady. The rest of the evening I didn't see them much together and once caught her sitting at the table not talking to anyone, yawning. I hope he marries that one.
While BP did not dance with me he sat at the table and watched, laughed at out antics. I won baseball tickets in the raffle due to his gambling. We went home with Mel and her man to build a fire, drink and laugh some more. I changed into sweat pants, to BP's disappointment.
At some point, after SEVERAL glasses of wine, Mel asked BP his intentions. It became very clear he didn't have any so I answered for him. "It's just sex." He laughed, but I gave up. That was all this is and it will soon go away.
Date with Blast From the Past
Following week after having recovered from too much bedroom gymnastics with the Blast from the Past, I went to his house again after cleaning. I would not have sex with him. I would institute my boundaries. If this guy likes me, wants what I want, he will attempt to date me. If not, we go back to that see you every couple year's to make a bad decision in between relationships type of deal. I could live with that.
So we talked, watched some TV, then he tried to make out with me again. It started to get hot and heavy. He started to undress me. I restated my boundaries, he kept pushing. I strengthened my resolve, got dressed and left. It was a friendly parting that resulted in a date two weeks later.
BP came up to my house for the first time.
So, he got here. No plan. Dinner? Drinks? A movie or bowling? What sounds fun? Honestly, what would have been fun was if he had stayed home and I could go back to my sweatpants and brooding. It turned out to be a good night though. Inspiring, really.
Picking out a restaurant was like repeating myself. I eat meat, damn it. Just not beef or pork. Yes, chicken and fish are considered meat. Over Mexican food the conversation was strained for a bit. So I asked what the youngest age girl he ever dated. He looked sheepish, but was honest. Last year, a nineteen year old.
Immediately I fell over clutching my heart. Ouch! What the hell was he thinking? Oh well. So I asked how he liked the conversation with her. He laughed and said it was awful. They had nothing in common, he'd thought she was older, blah blah blah.
Then I got my first ever BP quote: "I've never been the type o date more than two while I'm sleeping with one kinda guy."
I immediately texted it to myself so I wouldn't forget.
He went back to talking about his daughter, how he was debating over a Barbie house of a puppy. I voted for the Barbie house. Less upkeep.
As we ate I asked again what he was looking for in a girl. My standard interview questions.
"I want someone who loves me, loves my daughter, who I have fun with and is happy to see me when I get home." I stared at him a minute.
"It sounds like you do want a puppy." He just laughed and shook his head saying I know what he really means. "Okay... so what are you looking for in a puppy?" He was stumped. I think he got the comparison. When I later told my guys at work about this they were all appalled and felt sorry for any man who braved a date with me.
We ended up bar hopping and drinking too much. I took him over to Mel's, she got on his case about how he should call me rather than text if he was really interested in me.
Back at my house, yes I gave in and had sex.n I was drunk and old and stupid. I thought, maybe it will be better this time... He started out trying to get creative and I just took his face and said "Gentle." And he was. He was so gentle I cried. Not because it was magical, but because I knew I should not be doing this with him. There was no love, no emotion between us. My body was used to that requirement now and it broke my heart so deeply to think I was never going to have it again. He didn't see me cry or know. But it happened all the same.
He slept with his arms around me all night on the wrong side of the bed while I cried silently some more. In the morning he rubbed that tender part of my back and broke my heart again with longing for another man. He left early and didn't ask me stop by his house when I was in CG that night.
I went back to my resolve that nothing can come of this. He may be trying date me CG style: Hooking up and spending down time with a person resulting in a potentially unsatisfying relationship that you endure simply not to be alone.
But I want more.
So we talked, watched some TV, then he tried to make out with me again. It started to get hot and heavy. He started to undress me. I restated my boundaries, he kept pushing. I strengthened my resolve, got dressed and left. It was a friendly parting that resulted in a date two weeks later.
BP came up to my house for the first time.
So, he got here. No plan. Dinner? Drinks? A movie or bowling? What sounds fun? Honestly, what would have been fun was if he had stayed home and I could go back to my sweatpants and brooding. It turned out to be a good night though. Inspiring, really.
Picking out a restaurant was like repeating myself. I eat meat, damn it. Just not beef or pork. Yes, chicken and fish are considered meat. Over Mexican food the conversation was strained for a bit. So I asked what the youngest age girl he ever dated. He looked sheepish, but was honest. Last year, a nineteen year old.
Immediately I fell over clutching my heart. Ouch! What the hell was he thinking? Oh well. So I asked how he liked the conversation with her. He laughed and said it was awful. They had nothing in common, he'd thought she was older, blah blah blah.
Then I got my first ever BP quote: "I've never been the type o date more than two while I'm sleeping with one kinda guy."
I immediately texted it to myself so I wouldn't forget.
He went back to talking about his daughter, how he was debating over a Barbie house of a puppy. I voted for the Barbie house. Less upkeep.
As we ate I asked again what he was looking for in a girl. My standard interview questions.
"I want someone who loves me, loves my daughter, who I have fun with and is happy to see me when I get home." I stared at him a minute.
"It sounds like you do want a puppy." He just laughed and shook his head saying I know what he really means. "Okay... so what are you looking for in a puppy?" He was stumped. I think he got the comparison. When I later told my guys at work about this they were all appalled and felt sorry for any man who braved a date with me.
We ended up bar hopping and drinking too much. I took him over to Mel's, she got on his case about how he should call me rather than text if he was really interested in me.
Back at my house, yes I gave in and had sex.n I was drunk and old and stupid. I thought, maybe it will be better this time... He started out trying to get creative and I just took his face and said "Gentle." And he was. He was so gentle I cried. Not because it was magical, but because I knew I should not be doing this with him. There was no love, no emotion between us. My body was used to that requirement now and it broke my heart so deeply to think I was never going to have it again. He didn't see me cry or know. But it happened all the same.
He slept with his arms around me all night on the wrong side of the bed while I cried silently some more. In the morning he rubbed that tender part of my back and broke my heart again with longing for another man. He left early and didn't ask me stop by his house when I was in CG that night.
I went back to my resolve that nothing can come of this. He may be trying date me CG style: Hooking up and spending down time with a person resulting in a potentially unsatisfying relationship that you endure simply not to be alone.
But I want more.
Blast from the past
Every couple of years I reconnect with a guy who hung around my group of friends in high school. He had always been mean to me, like most of the assholes I grew up with. But at the same time, gave me a ride home from school everyday and made sure I had a ride at parties. The nice gesture was accompanied by his pulling my hair out of a ponytail because it looked better down or yelling at me for being an opinionated bitch or me yelling at him for breaking up with one of my friends.
At nineteen, on New Year's Eve I was drunk. I was thin and cute and was full of myself. Couple lines of coke later I realized I had been abandoned by my ride and there he was again, mocking me but offering a ride. He tried to convince me to come home with him. He didn't mind stopping to get condoms, haha. No thanks, dude. Parked in front of my parents house, all lit up from the still hanging multi-colored Christmas lights he asked again. Ah, what the hell. I went home with him. Remember making out on the floor and fairly aggressive sex, but other than that it was a blur. I woke up the next morning with a New Year's resolution that I was never going to do that again.
When he dropped me back at my parents house he asked for my phone number. I looked at him completely puzzled and asked why... So he could call me, of course. Still, I didn't get it. We were both young and drunk and stupid. It wasn't as if we actually liked each other. And he didn't have to put on this show for me. I get it. One night thing and done. I was good with it. (remember, I was young and dumb.) He called a couple times but I ignored him.
A couple years later we would run into each other at a party or when I went back to CG. He was in a relationship with a chick we'd gone to high school with who had never liked me, so there weren't too many times I heard from him. A message here and there on MySpace, then Facebook that we should grab lunch when he was in my area for work. About 4 years ago he had a daughter, but never married.
Two years ago, at the beginning of The Principal, BP asked if I wanted to get a drink after work to catch up. The Principal and I weren't serious, I wasn't sure we ever would be, and this was an old friend who I had more experience with as a friend than a lover so I didn't think it was a bad move. Just catching up. I even told The Principal about it. He never even asked how it went.
We met at a bar close to my house and had a couple beers. It was very platonic. He told me about his ex and their daughter, his work and life. I told him about my search for a job and the excitement of buying my house. He gave me a hug and I figured I'd see him again in another couple years.
BP asked if I wanted to meet up again about a week later for dinner while he was in town staying at his brother's place. Okay.... I told The Principal again, not that he cared. Again, not so quick on the uptake, I figured this guy doesn't get out much with a busy work schedule and a kid. He didn't show much interest in me last time so we were just old friends hanging out.
Romantic Italian place with a piano really didn't match my Chucks, but I wore a nice sweater I guess. I was getting nervous that I had read him all wrong, but still he was nonchalant about everything. We went to a bar and had a few drinks. I drove him back to his brother's. I parked, reached in the back to get left overs, and he tried to move in. I assumed we were car hugging good night so I laughed and reached over. Then he kissed me.
The nonchalance was gone. He was all going all out with this teenage front seat of the car making out. Inside my head was a war. I had been dating The Principal, but he wasn't acting like I was his girlfriend or calling me or even making out with me like this. Things weren't so serious that I should feel bad about dating another guy. On the other hand, what the hell was I doing with this dude's tongue in my mouth?
He moved into the back of my SUV and hauled me over the seat like a cave man. It shouldn't have been hot, but it was.
There we were, going at it like a couple of hormone induced children in the furry back end of my car. Feeling each other up, biting necks, losing our shirts.... I tried to break the mood by telling him we needed to stop. I am seeing someone else and this really wasn't right. His response was "Then why is your hand on my cock." Oops.
At long last, I got my control together and got him out of my car. I drove away feeling guilty and re-evaluating whether or not I should be dating The Principal. Should have stuck with that plan, I know.
BP kept calling me, talking about what he likes to cook, what he does to entertain his daughter. BP told me about this car show his neighborhood does, complete with BBQ and how I should come over next week for it. I felt like he was interested in me. I started to think I would rather date him than The Principal. Then the communication faded away and The Principal and I escalated.
I figured BP reunited with his baby momma and I went back in the friend bin, which was to be expected. I didn't hear from his until the following Christmas when I was dealing with The Principal and Work Guy. I was just too busy to be his friend again.
Right before Work Guy shattered my soul, BP Facebooked me that we should get a drink sometime. I responded that I have a boyfriend and we'd be more than happy to have a drink with him. It never panned out, obviously.
Weekend of Halloween, I met BP to pick out his costume. He'd lost weight and a bit of his hair, but still a good looking guy. I was a little nervous he would think I was fat... Oh to look like a teenager again! No wrinkles or body at all!
It was a fun outing where he chose a biker costume I picked out. Since he had a few hours before his party we decided to get a drink. I had a Margarita and a few beers which equals drunk Kate as I cannot hold my tequila. but it was platonic and I didn't worry. I drove over to Mel's house afterward and drank much more telling her my dating life story. She was gleeful to finally see me so unreserved.
BP and I texted mundane things. We met for a drink the following weekend when I was in CG. Platonic. Same amount of pointless texting. Platonic. Asked if I wanted to see his new house the following weekend. Sure, this is platonic, right?
I showed up at his house and he had been drinking most of the day (his only day off.) His friend was there too to see the new house. We all chatted easily, then BP stands behind me takes me in his arms and says to his friend "Isn't she beautiful?" Mind you I had just finished cleaning offices and was wearing baggy jeans and a ripped up ASU sweatshirt...
His friend departed soon after and I was left with drunk BP. He told me all about the antiques he'd acquired, how his mom loved decorating his house, how he planned to get a bigger TV. He joked around and said, "Now, when we get married you can do whatever you want with that" or some such drivel. I rolled my eyes. Apparently, at my age men think foreplay includes talking about marriage when that is the furthest thing from their minds.
He went on to say how he would move the current TV into his room. I decided to joke too. I said "Well, when we get married there will be no TV in the bedroom. I don't believe in it." I expected him to laugh like I had. Instead he turned around and pinned me to the wall in a full-tilt lip lock. We kissed passionately for a little while until I broke it up.
Sitting outside I explained what I'm looking for. I don't just want to make out with a guy anymore because it's fun. I'm no long that 19year old girl sitting in front of her parents house and decides to have sex with a guy for the hell of it. I am no longer young and dumb and stupid. i want a man who wants to love me, marry me, travel with me overseas to see all the things I've been too busy to see and eventually have babies with me. He said he was looking for someone who would love him and his daughter, who would be happy to see him when he got home.
Yes, I ended up having freakish circus sex with him. Why do men think they have to put you in every damn position in one bout of intercourse? It is just a waste. I ended up so sore I couldn't walk for days. He also bit my neck so hard I had bruises. Worst of all, he wanted me to stay the night. Sleep with him. Cuddle. Screw that.
I ran away, as I like to do after making bad decisions with men who think sugarcoating it with cuddling makes it all better. Again, I felt like I could wait a few years to see him again. I knew my body couldn't withstand another evening of torturous sex that made me miss my ex's more gentle approach.
At nineteen, on New Year's Eve I was drunk. I was thin and cute and was full of myself. Couple lines of coke later I realized I had been abandoned by my ride and there he was again, mocking me but offering a ride. He tried to convince me to come home with him. He didn't mind stopping to get condoms, haha. No thanks, dude. Parked in front of my parents house, all lit up from the still hanging multi-colored Christmas lights he asked again. Ah, what the hell. I went home with him. Remember making out on the floor and fairly aggressive sex, but other than that it was a blur. I woke up the next morning with a New Year's resolution that I was never going to do that again.
When he dropped me back at my parents house he asked for my phone number. I looked at him completely puzzled and asked why... So he could call me, of course. Still, I didn't get it. We were both young and drunk and stupid. It wasn't as if we actually liked each other. And he didn't have to put on this show for me. I get it. One night thing and done. I was good with it. (remember, I was young and dumb.) He called a couple times but I ignored him.
A couple years later we would run into each other at a party or when I went back to CG. He was in a relationship with a chick we'd gone to high school with who had never liked me, so there weren't too many times I heard from him. A message here and there on MySpace, then Facebook that we should grab lunch when he was in my area for work. About 4 years ago he had a daughter, but never married.
Two years ago, at the beginning of The Principal, BP asked if I wanted to get a drink after work to catch up. The Principal and I weren't serious, I wasn't sure we ever would be, and this was an old friend who I had more experience with as a friend than a lover so I didn't think it was a bad move. Just catching up. I even told The Principal about it. He never even asked how it went.
We met at a bar close to my house and had a couple beers. It was very platonic. He told me about his ex and their daughter, his work and life. I told him about my search for a job and the excitement of buying my house. He gave me a hug and I figured I'd see him again in another couple years.
BP asked if I wanted to meet up again about a week later for dinner while he was in town staying at his brother's place. Okay.... I told The Principal again, not that he cared. Again, not so quick on the uptake, I figured this guy doesn't get out much with a busy work schedule and a kid. He didn't show much interest in me last time so we were just old friends hanging out.
Romantic Italian place with a piano really didn't match my Chucks, but I wore a nice sweater I guess. I was getting nervous that I had read him all wrong, but still he was nonchalant about everything. We went to a bar and had a few drinks. I drove him back to his brother's. I parked, reached in the back to get left overs, and he tried to move in. I assumed we were car hugging good night so I laughed and reached over. Then he kissed me.
The nonchalance was gone. He was all going all out with this teenage front seat of the car making out. Inside my head was a war. I had been dating The Principal, but he wasn't acting like I was his girlfriend or calling me or even making out with me like this. Things weren't so serious that I should feel bad about dating another guy. On the other hand, what the hell was I doing with this dude's tongue in my mouth?
He moved into the back of my SUV and hauled me over the seat like a cave man. It shouldn't have been hot, but it was.
There we were, going at it like a couple of hormone induced children in the furry back end of my car. Feeling each other up, biting necks, losing our shirts.... I tried to break the mood by telling him we needed to stop. I am seeing someone else and this really wasn't right. His response was "Then why is your hand on my cock." Oops.
At long last, I got my control together and got him out of my car. I drove away feeling guilty and re-evaluating whether or not I should be dating The Principal. Should have stuck with that plan, I know.
BP kept calling me, talking about what he likes to cook, what he does to entertain his daughter. BP told me about this car show his neighborhood does, complete with BBQ and how I should come over next week for it. I felt like he was interested in me. I started to think I would rather date him than The Principal. Then the communication faded away and The Principal and I escalated.
I figured BP reunited with his baby momma and I went back in the friend bin, which was to be expected. I didn't hear from his until the following Christmas when I was dealing with The Principal and Work Guy. I was just too busy to be his friend again.
Right before Work Guy shattered my soul, BP Facebooked me that we should get a drink sometime. I responded that I have a boyfriend and we'd be more than happy to have a drink with him. It never panned out, obviously.
Weekend of Halloween, I met BP to pick out his costume. He'd lost weight and a bit of his hair, but still a good looking guy. I was a little nervous he would think I was fat... Oh to look like a teenager again! No wrinkles or body at all!
It was a fun outing where he chose a biker costume I picked out. Since he had a few hours before his party we decided to get a drink. I had a Margarita and a few beers which equals drunk Kate as I cannot hold my tequila. but it was platonic and I didn't worry. I drove over to Mel's house afterward and drank much more telling her my dating life story. She was gleeful to finally see me so unreserved.
BP and I texted mundane things. We met for a drink the following weekend when I was in CG. Platonic. Same amount of pointless texting. Platonic. Asked if I wanted to see his new house the following weekend. Sure, this is platonic, right?
I showed up at his house and he had been drinking most of the day (his only day off.) His friend was there too to see the new house. We all chatted easily, then BP stands behind me takes me in his arms and says to his friend "Isn't she beautiful?" Mind you I had just finished cleaning offices and was wearing baggy jeans and a ripped up ASU sweatshirt...
His friend departed soon after and I was left with drunk BP. He told me all about the antiques he'd acquired, how his mom loved decorating his house, how he planned to get a bigger TV. He joked around and said, "Now, when we get married you can do whatever you want with that" or some such drivel. I rolled my eyes. Apparently, at my age men think foreplay includes talking about marriage when that is the furthest thing from their minds.
He went on to say how he would move the current TV into his room. I decided to joke too. I said "Well, when we get married there will be no TV in the bedroom. I don't believe in it." I expected him to laugh like I had. Instead he turned around and pinned me to the wall in a full-tilt lip lock. We kissed passionately for a little while until I broke it up.
Sitting outside I explained what I'm looking for. I don't just want to make out with a guy anymore because it's fun. I'm no long that 19year old girl sitting in front of her parents house and decides to have sex with a guy for the hell of it. I am no longer young and dumb and stupid. i want a man who wants to love me, marry me, travel with me overseas to see all the things I've been too busy to see and eventually have babies with me. He said he was looking for someone who would love him and his daughter, who would be happy to see him when he got home.
Yes, I ended up having freakish circus sex with him. Why do men think they have to put you in every damn position in one bout of intercourse? It is just a waste. I ended up so sore I couldn't walk for days. He also bit my neck so hard I had bruises. Worst of all, he wanted me to stay the night. Sleep with him. Cuddle. Screw that.
I ran away, as I like to do after making bad decisions with men who think sugarcoating it with cuddling makes it all better. Again, I felt like I could wait a few years to see him again. I knew my body couldn't withstand another evening of torturous sex that made me miss my ex's more gentle approach.
The Toy Theory
After 3+ months of being dumped, you’d think that I’d be over it. I would be looking forward to dating again, not at all concerned about the hairy bastard who dumped me. Especially when said hairy bastard feels the need to text me so I’m aware he’s moved on and will be bringing his new girl to the company holiday party. I shouldn’t have wanted to kick his ass, but I did.
I have realized lately that he is still all I think about. When it’s quiet in my house, when I drive past a place we used to go to, when I go to bed, when I wake up, even when I dream. It is like an ongoing conversation in my head that ranges from anger to wistfulness.
I feel like I have been asleep for a very long time, and finally woke up. A year ago I was in Disneyland, celebrating the last year of my twenties but it seems like a decade has passed. At the time I was in a relationship with someone who I loved. Someone who behaved as if I was inconsequential and I broke up with him little over a month later because I believed I would become so if I continued down that path.
There had been the silver lining of Work Guy, who behaved as if I was the light shining out of his darkness. The most blinding light he’d ever seen.
I struggled for months to see what he saw in me, only happy that I still had any pull to draw a man to his knees the way he had. That fairy tale longing that the right man would love me for me and crush me to him seemed to be happening… So I believed in magic. And like most kids, when you finally believe in fairies, you grow up. It all disintegrates. You see what the magic was shrouding and you become disenfranchised with the whole thing.
I have sat heartbroken and cast off for three months. Now, on the eve of my 30th birthday I see the true light. The blinding anticipation of his true love was to make me feel something he wanted. To win. Like a toy cast aside I was no longer interesting. Needed maintenance. Needed work. He won me. I loved him. But the game was over and he needed to move up and out. Any residual feelings I may have only strengthened his victory.
Somehow, knowing that our relationship and epic love was never really heading to forever, that he merely said he wanted to marry me to cast more of the magic, has replaced the confusion and anger with understanding. Work Guy did really feel that he loved me, at some point. Then, it was no longer fun. His idea of magic was getting everything he had dished out for me, no arguments no misunderstandings. Only perfection.
That is not the type of person I want to marry. I do deserve more than a self-absorbed toddler.
Regardless of my epiphany, I think I would rather shove hot pokers up my nose than date again. All that trust shit and believing in someone else... Give me a break. At any given moment that selfish bastard can activate his exit strategy and leave me feeling like a schmuck who allowed goo-goo eyes to get in the way of existing.
Analyzing all the things I should have done, how I should have changed, how he didn’t want me anymore and trying to understand how he could have loved me like he claimed then shut the switch off. Was I really so terrible? Then I switch to the “Toy Theory”.
Work Guy was raised in a very wealthy family. In their basement they had a play room with tons of toys everywhere. But being the little super social butterfly that he is, constantly strayed from home to play with his friends and their toys. When his friends discovered the play room they were mystified. Here, in his very own home, he had stacks of toys, video games, arcade machines, etc. Why would he ever leave? Why wouldn't he have invited them over sooner? Work Guy shrugged, proud of his abandoned toys. They weren’t fun to play with any more. He went in search of other people and toys to play with. (this is a true story)
That is the Toy Theory. I was no longer new and shiny and exciting. There was nothing left to conquer, because I was his, loved him and wanted to be with him. Almost as soon as he felt comfortable in my constitution did he grow distant and I got anxious.
The biggest difference between us is how I value people and he does. It goes back to the toys.
When I was a kid, I felt bad for leaving certain toys out. I made the ones I couldn’t fit in my bed at night their own beds on the floor, toy box, closet, drawers. I wanted everyone to feel equally loved. I worried that some of my older toys would get jealous of the new ones I received on birthdays or Christmas, so I made sure I played with them on their own or incorporated them in the new games. All my toys are still in storage, I can’t bear to give me them away even though I no longer need them….
How does this relate to relationships? Work Guys parents have both been married 3 times. When things don't work, you move on. Like getting a new toy. They probably don't see it that way, otherwise things would be different. I'm sure Work Guy doesn't even realize how transient his feeling for women are. But in my family, we love for life. Regardless of what an asshole someone can be at the time, or even for years. You soldier on, and things work. You don't just replace your toys when they need maintenance.
This theory was designed to make me feel better. Instead it makes me sad. I wasn't fun enough to be played with half as long as some of his other serious girlfriends. I wasn't smart enough to see all the signs in the beginning when he bragged about what a womanizing prick he was. I wasted 8 months on a poser. Oh, the shame...
I have realized lately that he is still all I think about. When it’s quiet in my house, when I drive past a place we used to go to, when I go to bed, when I wake up, even when I dream. It is like an ongoing conversation in my head that ranges from anger to wistfulness.
I feel like I have been asleep for a very long time, and finally woke up. A year ago I was in Disneyland, celebrating the last year of my twenties but it seems like a decade has passed. At the time I was in a relationship with someone who I loved. Someone who behaved as if I was inconsequential and I broke up with him little over a month later because I believed I would become so if I continued down that path.
There had been the silver lining of Work Guy, who behaved as if I was the light shining out of his darkness. The most blinding light he’d ever seen.
I struggled for months to see what he saw in me, only happy that I still had any pull to draw a man to his knees the way he had. That fairy tale longing that the right man would love me for me and crush me to him seemed to be happening… So I believed in magic. And like most kids, when you finally believe in fairies, you grow up. It all disintegrates. You see what the magic was shrouding and you become disenfranchised with the whole thing.
I have sat heartbroken and cast off for three months. Now, on the eve of my 30th birthday I see the true light. The blinding anticipation of his true love was to make me feel something he wanted. To win. Like a toy cast aside I was no longer interesting. Needed maintenance. Needed work. He won me. I loved him. But the game was over and he needed to move up and out. Any residual feelings I may have only strengthened his victory.
Somehow, knowing that our relationship and epic love was never really heading to forever, that he merely said he wanted to marry me to cast more of the magic, has replaced the confusion and anger with understanding. Work Guy did really feel that he loved me, at some point. Then, it was no longer fun. His idea of magic was getting everything he had dished out for me, no arguments no misunderstandings. Only perfection.
That is not the type of person I want to marry. I do deserve more than a self-absorbed toddler.
Regardless of my epiphany, I think I would rather shove hot pokers up my nose than date again. All that trust shit and believing in someone else... Give me a break. At any given moment that selfish bastard can activate his exit strategy and leave me feeling like a schmuck who allowed goo-goo eyes to get in the way of existing.
Analyzing all the things I should have done, how I should have changed, how he didn’t want me anymore and trying to understand how he could have loved me like he claimed then shut the switch off. Was I really so terrible? Then I switch to the “Toy Theory”.
Work Guy was raised in a very wealthy family. In their basement they had a play room with tons of toys everywhere. But being the little super social butterfly that he is, constantly strayed from home to play with his friends and their toys. When his friends discovered the play room they were mystified. Here, in his very own home, he had stacks of toys, video games, arcade machines, etc. Why would he ever leave? Why wouldn't he have invited them over sooner? Work Guy shrugged, proud of his abandoned toys. They weren’t fun to play with any more. He went in search of other people and toys to play with. (this is a true story)
That is the Toy Theory. I was no longer new and shiny and exciting. There was nothing left to conquer, because I was his, loved him and wanted to be with him. Almost as soon as he felt comfortable in my constitution did he grow distant and I got anxious.
The biggest difference between us is how I value people and he does. It goes back to the toys.
When I was a kid, I felt bad for leaving certain toys out. I made the ones I couldn’t fit in my bed at night their own beds on the floor, toy box, closet, drawers. I wanted everyone to feel equally loved. I worried that some of my older toys would get jealous of the new ones I received on birthdays or Christmas, so I made sure I played with them on their own or incorporated them in the new games. All my toys are still in storage, I can’t bear to give me them away even though I no longer need them….
How does this relate to relationships? Work Guys parents have both been married 3 times. When things don't work, you move on. Like getting a new toy. They probably don't see it that way, otherwise things would be different. I'm sure Work Guy doesn't even realize how transient his feeling for women are. But in my family, we love for life. Regardless of what an asshole someone can be at the time, or even for years. You soldier on, and things work. You don't just replace your toys when they need maintenance.
This theory was designed to make me feel better. Instead it makes me sad. I wasn't fun enough to be played with half as long as some of his other serious girlfriends. I wasn't smart enough to see all the signs in the beginning when he bragged about what a womanizing prick he was. I wasted 8 months on a poser. Oh, the shame...
The Blood Drive
At work, I kept my distance from the douche bag who dumped me. I didn't look in his direction, made sure we no longer emailed. No texting. This guy no longer wanted me. Why continue to torture myself?
The week before Halloween I had gotten my hair done and was making a futile attempt to find a costume for our work party. When the hell did Halloween become the day of All Sluts? Where were all the Dorothy and Snow White costumes that looked like they could have actually been worn in the movies? No, now everything is tits and ass and then some. I needed something work appropriate!
As I approached one store I saw I had a missed call from Work Guy. Why was he calling me? This started a whole train wreck of thought processes. Is he mad at me because all the guys in my row hate him? Did I say something I shouldn't have and it got back to him? Does he miss me? Why, oh why, would he be fucking calling me? So I came up with the one idea that made sense. He mis-dialed. I sent him a text asking if he'd meant to call me. Yes, he just wanted to say hi. But why?
I told him I was out shopping and would call him when I got home. I tried, but he didn't answer. So naturally I proceeded to glare at my phone the rest of the night in vain. We texted on Friday during the Halloween party. I managed to find an Eskimo costume that was cute and, in my opinion, scary. Isn't the scariest thing imaginable living in a constant state of snow?? People didn't get it. Called me a build-a-bear instead. I needn't have worried about the propriety of my costume however, there was a female manager who dressed as a slutty nurse complete with see-through costume exposing a white thong.....
The deal with having a costume in the first place was so I could leave work early. My manager declared all who dressed up got a half day. So as I lay in bed, Work Guy texted me how Eskimos were sexy. I cried again and slowly began to hate him more. He had dressed as Oscar the grouch with see-through trash can. He asked what I would do if he showed up at my door with nothing underneath, the sun shining behind him. I wanted to reply something sexy, have him come over and re-kindle our fire. But I knew it would mean more to me than to him. I would say something stupid, like I love you, I can't live without you. I would have committed unspeakable sexual acts on a Sesame street character. I had to remind myself that he didn't want me. Didn't want me and had dumped me in a text. Had stalked me into dating him with the boldest declarations of love then found me lacking.
I simply texted him back the part where it would mean something different to us both. He agreed, and I swear to God my heart collapsed. He had just been trying to get some post relationship sex because he'd thought it would be easy.
Tuesday at work we were having a blood drive. I signed up and was waiting in the freezing bus for my turn. It doesn't make me nervous, and I have done this before, but for some odd reason I was shaking. As I lay there, pumping my life force into a bag I became detached. My breathing was shallow and my head light. I wanted to cry, every one was really staring at me. Not my sometimes imaginings that people are staring, they actually were. My friend Mel was at my side asking me to breath. In her words, I was "Butt-ass white."
I couldn't sit up, was sweating profusely under just my right armpit (that's the nervous one.) An hour later I was out of the bus and walking drunkenly back into work. I told Mel I would be fine. An hour until I went to the chiropractor then home, she looked doubtful. I sidetracked to the restroom to pee and collect myself. When I came out, Work Guy, his boss and Mel were all staring at me. I waived them off, I'm fine.
In the break room Mel and Work Guy followed me to get water. I was so totally on edge I gritted my teeth and tried to walk straight. Mel told me I should have someone drive me home. Work Guy peered over her shoulder. I ignored him. I do not allow myself to look at him. I walked past him with her trying to ingrain the belief that I would be just fine into both of us, even though I was fairly certain I might faint if I didn't put my ass in my chair soon. She stared at me, pointed over her shoulder and said "I think he wants to talk to you..." Ugh. My day was fast getting worse. I do not allow myself to look at him at work. Speaking is unmentionable.
I went right up to him swayed, and smiled. "Yes?"
"Do you want me to take you home?"
"No thank you. I'm fine."
I turned around and stumbled to my desk. A few minutes later he came to me and set down a bag of peanut M&M's, like he used to get me along with the morning after pill. Such an asshole. And a lemon-lime Gatorade. I drank the beverage and tried to focus on my computer while acutely aware that he was watching me from one side of the room and Mel from the other. Work Guy texted he would follow me home if I needed. Grrr. Why couldn't he disappear? Why had I been so stupid by dating him?
After 15 minutes of trying to type an email I decided it was probably best not to see the chiropractor, cancelled my appointment, and only because I was afraid of passing out consented to allow the "Douche" as Mel calls him, follow me home.
I drove carefully. I really didn't understand how I had gotten this light headed. I drank plenty of water, ate sturdy food for lunch. I had been prepared. As I pulled in to the garage I expected to see the Prius drive by the house and head straight back to work. There was no reason for him to park and come inside. He walked up to me and asked if could come in. He wrapped me in his arms and stroked my back the way he knew made me melt. The first time we had been intimate, he had touched me there so gently I thought I would cry. He rarely repeated that gesture in our relationship.
It was because of that touch I let him in. I was weak, and vulnerable. He let the dogs out while I changed into my sweats. When I came out he hugged me again. I had to press my lips together so hard to keep from saying something stupid. We sat on the couch, me trying look like I felt normal while I really just wanted to crawl into his arms and curl up in a ball. I wanted to lay my head on his chest and play with his hair. I wanted to go home..
He left after only a few minutes, saying my color was better. I didn't get up, for fear of hugging him again and possibly crying. Before he went to the door he reached over the house and patted my arm. Then he reached down again, tenderly put his hands on both sides of my head and kissed my hair. Then he left.
"What the fuck?"
I went to bed. It was only 4pm, but I was so tired and heartbroken the only place which made any sense was the solitude of my room. It didn't last long. Mel came over with beer and yelled at me for crying again over the Douche.
A week later I texted and asked why he had kissed my head. He was worried about me, but didn't want me to get the wrong idea. How sweet. I wish he would have had that notion a year ago when he was filling my head with all his temporary romantic bullshit.
The week before Halloween I had gotten my hair done and was making a futile attempt to find a costume for our work party. When the hell did Halloween become the day of All Sluts? Where were all the Dorothy and Snow White costumes that looked like they could have actually been worn in the movies? No, now everything is tits and ass and then some. I needed something work appropriate!
As I approached one store I saw I had a missed call from Work Guy. Why was he calling me? This started a whole train wreck of thought processes. Is he mad at me because all the guys in my row hate him? Did I say something I shouldn't have and it got back to him? Does he miss me? Why, oh why, would he be fucking calling me? So I came up with the one idea that made sense. He mis-dialed. I sent him a text asking if he'd meant to call me. Yes, he just wanted to say hi. But why?
I told him I was out shopping and would call him when I got home. I tried, but he didn't answer. So naturally I proceeded to glare at my phone the rest of the night in vain. We texted on Friday during the Halloween party. I managed to find an Eskimo costume that was cute and, in my opinion, scary. Isn't the scariest thing imaginable living in a constant state of snow?? People didn't get it. Called me a build-a-bear instead. I needn't have worried about the propriety of my costume however, there was a female manager who dressed as a slutty nurse complete with see-through costume exposing a white thong.....
The deal with having a costume in the first place was so I could leave work early. My manager declared all who dressed up got a half day. So as I lay in bed, Work Guy texted me how Eskimos were sexy. I cried again and slowly began to hate him more. He had dressed as Oscar the grouch with see-through trash can. He asked what I would do if he showed up at my door with nothing underneath, the sun shining behind him. I wanted to reply something sexy, have him come over and re-kindle our fire. But I knew it would mean more to me than to him. I would say something stupid, like I love you, I can't live without you. I would have committed unspeakable sexual acts on a Sesame street character. I had to remind myself that he didn't want me. Didn't want me and had dumped me in a text. Had stalked me into dating him with the boldest declarations of love then found me lacking.
I simply texted him back the part where it would mean something different to us both. He agreed, and I swear to God my heart collapsed. He had just been trying to get some post relationship sex because he'd thought it would be easy.
Tuesday at work we were having a blood drive. I signed up and was waiting in the freezing bus for my turn. It doesn't make me nervous, and I have done this before, but for some odd reason I was shaking. As I lay there, pumping my life force into a bag I became detached. My breathing was shallow and my head light. I wanted to cry, every one was really staring at me. Not my sometimes imaginings that people are staring, they actually were. My friend Mel was at my side asking me to breath. In her words, I was "Butt-ass white."
I couldn't sit up, was sweating profusely under just my right armpit (that's the nervous one.) An hour later I was out of the bus and walking drunkenly back into work. I told Mel I would be fine. An hour until I went to the chiropractor then home, she looked doubtful. I sidetracked to the restroom to pee and collect myself. When I came out, Work Guy, his boss and Mel were all staring at me. I waived them off, I'm fine.
In the break room Mel and Work Guy followed me to get water. I was so totally on edge I gritted my teeth and tried to walk straight. Mel told me I should have someone drive me home. Work Guy peered over her shoulder. I ignored him. I do not allow myself to look at him. I walked past him with her trying to ingrain the belief that I would be just fine into both of us, even though I was fairly certain I might faint if I didn't put my ass in my chair soon. She stared at me, pointed over her shoulder and said "I think he wants to talk to you..." Ugh. My day was fast getting worse. I do not allow myself to look at him at work. Speaking is unmentionable.
I went right up to him swayed, and smiled. "Yes?"
"Do you want me to take you home?"
"No thank you. I'm fine."
I turned around and stumbled to my desk. A few minutes later he came to me and set down a bag of peanut M&M's, like he used to get me along with the morning after pill. Such an asshole. And a lemon-lime Gatorade. I drank the beverage and tried to focus on my computer while acutely aware that he was watching me from one side of the room and Mel from the other. Work Guy texted he would follow me home if I needed. Grrr. Why couldn't he disappear? Why had I been so stupid by dating him?
After 15 minutes of trying to type an email I decided it was probably best not to see the chiropractor, cancelled my appointment, and only because I was afraid of passing out consented to allow the "Douche" as Mel calls him, follow me home.
I drove carefully. I really didn't understand how I had gotten this light headed. I drank plenty of water, ate sturdy food for lunch. I had been prepared. As I pulled in to the garage I expected to see the Prius drive by the house and head straight back to work. There was no reason for him to park and come inside. He walked up to me and asked if could come in. He wrapped me in his arms and stroked my back the way he knew made me melt. The first time we had been intimate, he had touched me there so gently I thought I would cry. He rarely repeated that gesture in our relationship.
It was because of that touch I let him in. I was weak, and vulnerable. He let the dogs out while I changed into my sweats. When I came out he hugged me again. I had to press my lips together so hard to keep from saying something stupid. We sat on the couch, me trying look like I felt normal while I really just wanted to crawl into his arms and curl up in a ball. I wanted to lay my head on his chest and play with his hair. I wanted to go home..
He left after only a few minutes, saying my color was better. I didn't get up, for fear of hugging him again and possibly crying. Before he went to the door he reached over the house and patted my arm. Then he reached down again, tenderly put his hands on both sides of my head and kissed my hair. Then he left.
"What the fuck?"
I went to bed. It was only 4pm, but I was so tired and heartbroken the only place which made any sense was the solitude of my room. It didn't last long. Mel came over with beer and yelled at me for crying again over the Douche.
A week later I texted and asked why he had kissed my head. He was worried about me, but didn't want me to get the wrong idea. How sweet. I wish he would have had that notion a year ago when he was filling my head with all his temporary romantic bullshit.
Thursday, December 15, 2011
Damn You Internet Dating
In a moment of stupidity I signed up for Match. Actually, it wasn't stupidity, it was defiance.
The night Work Guy shattered my heart I paid $75 to meet a man online. My broken thought process was that I had fallen off a horse, and everyone knows the best remedy for that is to jump on another one. For a couple weeks I browsed. Laughed at the idiotic profiles that said "I want a woman who takes care of herself- does her nails, works out to keep her body nice, gets her hair done.." Men bitching about what they don't want and how they're tired of "games" or "drama" all stated beneath a profile picture of him cropped so close to his face you can see his ex's hair against his shoulder. Loser needs to find a picture where he's not obviously attached to another woman.
After some emails back and forth I gave my number to a guy. He called me, we talked about the general things. Believe it or not he's more into his dog than I am into mine... Seems all we talked about were dogs. He does real estate and sighed mournfully that he gets by, the market has been rough but he hopes to survive it. Eluded to the fact he lost his house and bought a condo. I mentioned I own a house, stay away from all those pesky neighbors who try to talk to you. "Don't you talk to your neighbors now?" I laughed. "No, that's why I bought a house in the first place. They can do their thing and I can do mine." He seemed unable to respond to that. Kept saying "huh."
In order to end the conversation I told him my dinner was ready and vowed never to talk to him again.
A week or two later I told my guy friends at work that I was going on a date with an Internet dude, different one. They were all up in arms about wanting to accompany me. Work Guy seems to stand up a lot at work and was watching us. Jeffy glared at him. As I left for the day, grumbling about how dating sucks because I had to go home, wash my hair and attempt to look pretty.
We met up for a drink. He was witty, nice, fun conversationalist. Unfortunately he had horrible teeth. Not like Hugh Grant, more like someone who had spent too much of his life gnawing on chew. I felt bad, but I was never going to kiss him, so this wasn't going anywhere. He later texted me that my eyes were mesmerizing. More guilt.
Next Internet date, different bar. Again with the freshly washed hair and casually applied makeup. On this one's profile he'd said he was 5'10"... I was in my Uggs, flat on the ground and I towered above him. I proceeded to talking about all of my animals, my mom's, my sisters. i really didn't care. Call me the honey badger.
Conversation via email regarding a 1st date with dude from the Internet:
J: So…..how did it go? Was he cute? Conversation? Connection?
Me: First of all, in his profile he said he was 5’10”. So not true. I was in Uggs and stood taller than him by like two inches. No spark. Ok conversation. I talked about my animals way too much because I really didn’t feel like we had anything to talk about. And they had a special on the giant mugs of beer for $2.99, only issue was my arms are so sore from hot yoga I could barely lift it. It was torture…..
J: So do you think he’ll contact you to go out again? Do you think he was into you? Was he attractive?
Me: I hope not, because then I have to tell him thanks but no thanks. I don’t really know if he was into me.. Told me I looked nice at the end of the evening, so at least I got that out it. He was attractive for a Christmas elf…
Sent to my sister:
Meghan: Ha – so mean :-)
Me: He was really short. And petite. If I hadn’t been so sore from yoga and had more beer I might have asked if I could try to pick him up…
Meghan: literally I suppose
Me: I bet I could have gotten him up over my head.
Seriously, this guy looked like he was barely breaking the 5’5” mark. I had a minimum of 20lbs on him. There would be no need for pepper spray in my future.
Inserts from my guys at work on dating:
“We hear your voice so often sometimes we just need to hear our own.”- Serial Killer in Training on why men like to hear themselves talk.
“If you want to pick up a man, wear that purple dress with the tights and boots when you go grocery shopping.” - Football Junkie
“I could probably do without sex if I had around the clock sports and beer. Yeah, I could do it.”- Serial Killer in Training
“I don’t need a guy to be super tall, he can be my height. I just feel like if I broke my leg hiking or something he should be able to carry me to safety.”- Me
Damn you Internet dating. If you were more like Google I would spend less time searching.
The night Work Guy shattered my heart I paid $75 to meet a man online. My broken thought process was that I had fallen off a horse, and everyone knows the best remedy for that is to jump on another one. For a couple weeks I browsed. Laughed at the idiotic profiles that said "I want a woman who takes care of herself- does her nails, works out to keep her body nice, gets her hair done.." Men bitching about what they don't want and how they're tired of "games" or "drama" all stated beneath a profile picture of him cropped so close to his face you can see his ex's hair against his shoulder. Loser needs to find a picture where he's not obviously attached to another woman.
After some emails back and forth I gave my number to a guy. He called me, we talked about the general things. Believe it or not he's more into his dog than I am into mine... Seems all we talked about were dogs. He does real estate and sighed mournfully that he gets by, the market has been rough but he hopes to survive it. Eluded to the fact he lost his house and bought a condo. I mentioned I own a house, stay away from all those pesky neighbors who try to talk to you. "Don't you talk to your neighbors now?" I laughed. "No, that's why I bought a house in the first place. They can do their thing and I can do mine." He seemed unable to respond to that. Kept saying "huh."
In order to end the conversation I told him my dinner was ready and vowed never to talk to him again.
A week or two later I told my guy friends at work that I was going on a date with an Internet dude, different one. They were all up in arms about wanting to accompany me. Work Guy seems to stand up a lot at work and was watching us. Jeffy glared at him. As I left for the day, grumbling about how dating sucks because I had to go home, wash my hair and attempt to look pretty.
We met up for a drink. He was witty, nice, fun conversationalist. Unfortunately he had horrible teeth. Not like Hugh Grant, more like someone who had spent too much of his life gnawing on chew. I felt bad, but I was never going to kiss him, so this wasn't going anywhere. He later texted me that my eyes were mesmerizing. More guilt.
Next Internet date, different bar. Again with the freshly washed hair and casually applied makeup. On this one's profile he'd said he was 5'10"... I was in my Uggs, flat on the ground and I towered above him. I proceeded to talking about all of my animals, my mom's, my sisters. i really didn't care. Call me the honey badger.
Conversation via email regarding a 1st date with dude from the Internet:
J: So…..how did it go? Was he cute? Conversation? Connection?
Me: First of all, in his profile he said he was 5’10”. So not true. I was in Uggs and stood taller than him by like two inches. No spark. Ok conversation. I talked about my animals way too much because I really didn’t feel like we had anything to talk about. And they had a special on the giant mugs of beer for $2.99, only issue was my arms are so sore from hot yoga I could barely lift it. It was torture…..
J: So do you think he’ll contact you to go out again? Do you think he was into you? Was he attractive?
Me: I hope not, because then I have to tell him thanks but no thanks. I don’t really know if he was into me.. Told me I looked nice at the end of the evening, so at least I got that out it. He was attractive for a Christmas elf…
Sent to my sister:
Meghan: Ha – so mean :-)
Me: He was really short. And petite. If I hadn’t been so sore from yoga and had more beer I might have asked if I could try to pick him up…
Meghan: literally I suppose
Me: I bet I could have gotten him up over my head.
Seriously, this guy looked like he was barely breaking the 5’5” mark. I had a minimum of 20lbs on him. There would be no need for pepper spray in my future.
Inserts from my guys at work on dating:
“We hear your voice so often sometimes we just need to hear our own.”- Serial Killer in Training on why men like to hear themselves talk.
“If you want to pick up a man, wear that purple dress with the tights and boots when you go grocery shopping.” - Football Junkie
“I could probably do without sex if I had around the clock sports and beer. Yeah, I could do it.”- Serial Killer in Training
“I don’t need a guy to be super tall, he can be my height. I just feel like if I broke my leg hiking or something he should be able to carry me to safety.”- Me
Damn you Internet dating. If you were more like Google I would spend less time searching.
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