It just goes to show... They ARE everywhere!

A long time ago (well, a couple weeks actually) in a galaxy far, far away (across the cube from me)...
Anastasia stands up and demands my attention.  She wanted my opinion on a rather irritating male experience she had just encountered.  I stood up immediately and ignored the work on my desk.

Apparently, she had this man friend, I use the term "man" loosely, who had recently become available again.  He had a child around the same age as hers and they had breakfast one morning.  I, of course, had to finger quote breakfast to make the nearby boy co-workers giggle.  Well, afterward this friend had asked Anastasia out for drinks later in the week.  Even though he seemed somewhat self-focused and collects records and had to live downtown to be where the "hipsters" are...
She thought "Why not?"  The Force was not with her, my friend.

All week she heard nothing from him.  At all.  No plans to be made, not a hi, not a how's it going.  Nada.  On Saturday, when they were supposed to meet Anastasia's plans changed around some and she texted him to see if later in the evening would work.  His response:

Dude: I have to work late and not sure I can meet.  Stay tuned...

She tuned in on making some alternate plans.  Hasn't heard from the guy since the incident a couple days prior...

Her question was: Was she stood up, or just merely blown off.
My answer: Both.  And by an asshole, so technically she was lucky.

This seemed to be the guy's MO.  When he was available he would want to hang out and then blow her off when he got with someone else.  She was willing to have drinks to see if he had changed, despite her better judgement that assholes NEVER change.

All was quiet until last week.  The guy had surfaced again and was texting her.  Wanting to know what her plans were for Friday.  Anastasia was blunt- she had a date.  This immature "man" had to pipe in how he had just met someone, and she was the most wonderful person ever and soooooooo beautiful.  He even sent Anastasia a picture of this new girl.  Really?  Are we in junior high?  My love life is better than yours, neener-neener-neener!  It was such a remarkable way to display his douchieness.  While this brought home Anastasia's belief the guy was an asshole she still could not believe his stupidity.

It gets better.  She rants again about his record collection.  This 40 year old man, started a record collection and purposefully talks about bands no one cares about because he needs some cool hobby to make him seem hip.  Not only does he refuse to shut up about these records, he says it with a Bostonian accent.

"Is he from back East?" I ask.

"New York, about half his life ago and before you ask, no.  He doesn't say any other words with any type of accent.  He spells it r-e-"

"Wait!  He spells it?  He has TEXTED it to you as a funny mispronounced word?"

"Yep.  R-e-c-i-d-d-s.  It is on purpose."  She is nodding with this look like she's talking about a suicidal maniac.  I am shaking my head in disbelief with the same astounded expression.  Then I laugh hysterically.  This guy is essence of douche!

"I am disappointed in you, Anastasia.  How could you even consider going for drinks with this guy!"  Although, I have been there more times than I like to admit. 

This morning I came into work and Anastasia popped up over my wall wanting to know if I'd gotten her Facebook message.  I shake my head.  She hands me her phone like it is the Holy Grail, eyes twinkling.  I had to read the texts that the guy sent her while she was on her date Friday.

Friday 10:42pm
How was your date?

Friday 10:54pm

I know this sounds shitty. But I am no longer in a relationship. I’m not feeling too good right now, but if you’d like to not sleep at home tonight, you can come on over.

 

My eyes are huge and I just stare up at her.

Friday 10:54pm

I don’t think you are cheap or anything. Far from it. I’d appreciate the company if you are up for it.

"What!" I break out laughing.  This guy asks her how her date is going and then when there is no response 12 minutes later he thinks it is acceptable to booty-call her because he's broken hearted?

 

She shared this with her date, who has been a friend of hers for a while.

 

Her date's response (but not sent): This is Dale. We are on our date. I suggest you jerk off and go to bed, douche bag.

 

I am laughing and doing a little dance.  Oh, she should have sent it!!!

Saturday 8:01am

I’m sorry about last night. She let me go and I was spiraling. Hope all went well. Text me later if you’d like.

 

"Didn't he just meet her?  How do you break up and spiral down in under a week?  This guy is an idiot!"  Maybe he sent new girl a text about his recidds and she bolted.

 

I ask this over and over again, but really!  WHAT IS WRONG WITH MEN?!? 

When did they ALL go over to the Dark Side?

All The Single Ladies!

After less than a week trying to date I threw in the towel again after the Cop.  What does this say about my endurance?  Pah!

But really, what is wrong with men these days?  They boast on their profiles about how much they love to camp, watch sports and are looking for a "drama-free" woman to share their lives with.  Didn't they stop to think that any woman would be much more drama-free if she wasn't bitching at him about how much money he spent on yet another camp stove thingy or if he paid attention to her during dinner instead of watching the game, texting about the game, Facebooking about the game, and checking his fantasy football/golf/baseball/hockey/soccer/basketball league?  It doesn't take a rocket scientist...

At work I haven't been working all that much as I have been organizing an all girls outing to the Dirty Girl Mud Run in support of the Breast Cancer Research Institute.  I hate my job, so this makes going to work more fun.  Well, tolerable anyway.  I have raised over $350 to help girl's get money to go, and it will be entertaining to see all of us computer lazy gals get dirty.  I'm already planning the next 5k!  Me, who hates exercise and prefers beer.. (well they have a beer garden for after, I do my research.)

This got me thinking while talking to Anastasia.  What more could I do while working at this lame company?  It came to me via Beyonce.  Before long, I was making silent plans to start a Single Ladies Club.  Not so we could all get together, go out and meet males, but so we could get together, go out and maybe discover what the hell we're all doing wrong.  And it would be fun. And it would help me get out of the house more often.  AND if I can get back into the swing of marketing and small talk I can get the hell out of my current job!  Now put your hands up! Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh!

The power of feeling good about being me is what I need.  If there is no Mr. Right out there, I at least want to have a good time for the next 30 some odd years of my life.  I want to make friends, find a job I love (at minimum don't dream will burst in to flame so I don't have to go in), and make some dough to travel with.  Maybe I'll move to Georgia with Ange if she gets the regional position there.  Maybe I'll move to Oregon.  Maybe I will never move, but finally find happiness.  I'm told here are all different kinds so it is probably time to start experimenting!

"I got gloss on my lips, a man on my hips
Got me tighter in my Dereon jeans
Acting up, drink in my cup
I can care less what you think
I need no permission, did I mention
Don't pay him any attention
'Cause you had your turn, and now you gonna learn
What it really feels like to miss me
'Cause if you liked it, then you should have put a ring on it
If you liked it, then you shoulda put a ring on it
Don't be mad once you see that he want it
'Cause if you liked it, then you shoulda put a ring on it
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh"

Yes, I sang and typed.  The dogs were very amused.

Meeting the Cop

So, after my brief reprisal of Match.com I emailed back and forth with the Cop.  We agreed to meet on Sunday when I was down home cleaning offices and would look like a bum.  I re-read some of the Work Guy stuff which made me realize how fucking crazy I had been at that time and felt relief that I no longer had that "find someone now who will love you, marry you and give you babies" deal looming over my head.

After some debate I agreed to meet him at his house.  A big Internet no-no.  He suggested it and I refused.  He claimed he wasn't a psycho and I reminded him that I read nerdily and the cop who always says he isn't a psycho killer usually ends up the psycho killer.  I texted my mom his pic so she would know where to send the ambulance should I go missing.

In person, he is taller than me which is a plus.  He decorates for Halloween like my Aunt Charlotte on crack, a plus I think.  Has fish, knows all about them.  Likes Harry Potter, huge plus.  Builds Lego cities, nerdy but I can relate.  Has a clean house, plus considering I don't.  Was NYPD.  Got a Purple Heart for a tour in the Middle East (which I assume is close to Mordor).  He seems like a good guy....

Bad parts: I admit I don't like guns.  Promptly shows me all his guns because for some odd reason men think that if you just hold one you'll not envision all the death and destruction they have the potential to create.  Oh, you don't like guns, let's go shoot some to make you feel better!  He's a Republican.  There really shouldn't need to be any follow up to that one...

We both admit we are nervous but the two hour meet up goes nicely.  We waive good bye, I fear I might shake his hand but make it to my car without that error.  On my way to cleaning he texts me "Honest First Impressions?"  What am I to say.  He was cute and nice.  I say that and he follows up with pretty much the same.  I am on fire!

Then he wants me to come back so he can kiss me.  Ummm... No.  I have known him for 24 hours and had a lovely meet up at his home.  I am not ready for first kissing after my sweaty cleaning job. He is persistent.  I am jokey.  My back hurts from trying to keep it light. 

Cop texts that he really likes me.  While that is sweet, he barely knows me so I don't think he has had time to develop any type of feelings.  I mean, I liked meeting him, but don't know if I like him, like him.  I sound like a fucking grade schooler.  I decide to let it roll and see where this goes.  Then he continues texting about how he wants to know if he can let down his walls.  Umm... What?  Not seeing any walls.  He says he has been hurt a lot in the past.  Dude may need some walls.   Really wants to get married and have kids.  Known you incredibly short amount of time....  Please stop sharing.  Must wait until after the 5th date to have sex.  We haven't even hugged yet!

The next day he texts me that he wants me to know he isn't a serial dater, he likes me, will just be seeing me and wants to see where this goes.  It is phrased like he wants to go steady and I begin my freak out.  1 day of communication and he wants me to know he's exclusive.  Chloe urges me not to blow him off.  Maybe he is sensitive, which would be a good thing.  Maybe he is making himself clear about his expectations and loyalty.  Maybe he is trying to be as honest and straight forward as possible.

I come back with "Maybe he is bat shit crazy."  Chloe shakes her head and demands I relax until after we have had another date and can clear the air.  More texts from Cop on how he really likes me.  Do I want to dress up in matching costumes for a party on Saturday?  Eh, no.  We could do something else?  Tell him about hot yoga.  He tells me I probably look beautiful after yoga, tell him he compliments me so much I may get a big head, responds that thinking of me sweaty after yoga is giving him a big head...  I can't help but feel uncomfortable.

Ange comes over on Tuesday, Cop keeps texting me even though he knows I am hanging out with her.  His night is busy.  I suggest he throw everyone in jail.  He would rather handcuff me.  Umm?  Yes, too soon for that type of banter.  I tell her all the same stuff I shared at work with Chloe and she tries to get me to look on the bright side too.  Doesn't every girl want to hear how much a guy likes her after the first date?  Sure... but there is something off.  I try to bury it, but it gnaws on my back like a rabid monkey.

Thursday we had agreed to meet for dinner.  We discussed the types of food I like but he claimed he didn't know any places around Chandler to eat and we could go where I wanted.  I hate that.  Please provide some input, some suggestion.  Did men forget that they should attempt to plan dates in the beginning?  Do they want to put in no effort other than paying?

So we meet at a pizza place for dinner and drinks.  I awkwardly hug him and try to smile.  I feel at ease even though he is staring at me like he knows some secret.  Where he plans on stashing my body?  I don't know.

Let me make this short and sweet.  Unlike our date.

He takes forever to order.  I am starving and pounce on the waitress for a beer and salad.  I tell him I don't like meat on pizza.  Instead of asking why, he tells me why pizza is meant to have meat on it.  We talk about him.  I ask questions about his life, work, family, past relationships.  Conversation starters which are designed to be volleyed back and forth.  He doesn't ask about me.  I try to tell him stories, but he interrupts with his own.  Example, he has fish.  When I start telling him about my disastrous attempts with fish (they die, I cry with heartbreak) he inserts all the things I did wrong, why the fish were destined to die, details about how the fish would have grown, their life spans, wanting to know the exact breed or whatever, before I ever got the entire story out.  I started to get irritated.

Out by the car, we have a couple cigarettes and talk more.  We discuss education.  He corrects the way I say elementary, while placing the wrong emphasis on the word.  I admit I use the slang in saying the word elemtry, kind of like a lot of people say probly instead of probably.  But really I was trying to make a point in the CG educational system, which he disagreed with and tried to prove me wrong at every sentence coming out of my mouth.  I got a little heated.  Again I attempt a subject that my workmates abhor, genetically engineered foods directly related to consumerism.  What should be a discussion turns into the Cop telling me how wrong I am about everything.  It's like I am out with Scotty again!  I am pissed.  I call the Cop out on it and he smiles indulgently.  He likes to debate.  It is not a debate when you just tell the other they are wrong.  This is not a fun date.

The conversation lags and he just stares at me grinning.  I know he is thinking about kissing me.  I'm not so sure I want him to kiss me the way he is just standing there staring.  Then he says "What?" and laughs.  Are we in high school?  Eventually he moves in and places both hands on the side of my face.  Faces come closer.  Oh God, he opens his mouth.  Tongues poke at each other and I think I might giggle.  I lean in, hoping it gets better.  It does, barely. 

I grab beer on the way home.  This feels absurd.  He texts me what a great kisser I am.  I can only respond "Really?"

I keep responding to his pushy overtures with the fact that we just met and I am a slow mover.  I want to take time getting to know him.  He understands but is really excited about me.  He doesn't know anything about me! 

Friday he wants me to come over to make out.  Too fast, I say.  He thinks that is funny.  He texts me more, I don't respond.  He texts me wanting to know what is wrong.  I reply I am on the phone.  He texts back that that is OK.  I know it is.  I can do whatever I want, I irrationally think.  We are now Facebook friends.  He texts me how I know certain people off my friends list.... Weird.  One old dance student of mine he dated briefly.... More weird.

Saturday morning I am really wigged out by him.  I stand exclaiming to my co-worker about his crazy.  Peggy shakes her head "I haven't heard you say one good thing about this guy.  You need to release him back into the sea."  My phone is buzzing all over.  He sends me 5 texts in a row.  One is inviting me to hand out candy on Halloween next Wednesday.  I am enraged that he keeps securing a date before having the next scheduled.  What if we don't get a long?  Isn't this the point of dating?  Go out, see how it is, then decide whether or not to proceed.  I share with Peggy and she agrees.

I text him, again, he is moving too fast.  He explains he isn't.  I reiterate how I feel.  He justifies himself again.  There is no "Sorry" or "I didn't mean to make you feel that way".  Just two polar opposites.  I say this isn't working for me.  He again justifies his attempt to ask me out four days in advance, but thinks I am just not that into him and wishes me luck.  Back at ya.

I felt kind of bad.  I mean, he is a nice guy and I sincerely believe he just wants to find that special someone to settle down with.  I'm just not that person.  His intentions were good, but the way he went about things was so strange.  If I hadn't ended things now I may have been breaking his heart a day or week from now when he sprinted into "Let's have sex" or "I love you" stage.

Peggy and I celebrate my freedom with the happy dance then proceed to scroll through Match.com making fun of 99.9% of the people.  We even get her signed up on another site and we both cackle and moan at the devastation of possibilities out there.

But my Saturday night is blessedly free.  Now I can go home and read a romance novel!

What About Me?

You ever get the feeling that you are talking to thin air?  Welcome to my life.
Sometimes I think my writing is a way for me to get it all out there without having to feel like I'm interrupting someone else's air time...

Sigh.  I have resigned myself to the fact that I am just one of those people who will not meet the love of their life, get married and happily spurt offspring.  I like my life coming home to a house full of animals that occasionally love me, reading, and not having to wonder what someone else is thinking all the time.

That being said, I was feeling content rather than depressed for a change.  I laughed at work and joked with people.  One of my work guys started openly hitting on me and if he wasn't such a Lech I would think he was joking.  He was telling me how he had been trying to avoid hooking up and really dating.  It had been 3 months since he'd done the dirty with some barely legal brainless bimbo.  The blank look in his eyes made him ask "How long for you?" and immediately I muttered "Almost a year."  He laughed at my quick response but it got me thinking.............

Am I never going to have sex again?  The idea of not dating was welcome but never having sex again... EVER?  My mind started betraying me almost at once.  I started having little fantasies about a guy I noticed at Whole Foods, then a mystery man I would meet if I ever moved to Oregon and opened a book store that I could ride an ATV to through the glorious woods, then a hot baby I met in Iowa who was the friend of my baby second cousin, then even the Serial Killer at work (thank God that only lasted two days or I would never be able to look at him again), then Trey Parker from South Park, then Opie who got killed off Sons of Anarchy.  I am officially going mad.

The safety of these little fantasies is that they will never happen.  But what the hell am I supposed to do with my life if I never get to have sex again?  Inevitably, sex complicates things.  You can't just walk up to someone and say "Hi, would you like to have some sex tonight?"  Well, I suppose you can.  But then you are stuck with finding out what their name is and the whole should we kiss, should we cuddle.  It just leads to feelings which leads in two directions: Dating or Rejection.  I have had enough of both therefore I guess I was destined not to ever get my freak on again.

Perhaps I screwed myself out of the option by the copious amounts of sex I had in my 20's.  Pun intended.
Fate declared upon my 30th birthday that should I buy a cat, which I did, that the male species would no longer wish to get me naked.  Fate decided I had had enough orgasms and should now look forward to solitude and taking care of my mother in her old age, which she promises me is looming very near.

Ugh.  So after reading some romance novels, shut up Chloe, I went back online and looked at the prospects.  There had been an email from a cop in CG over ten days ago that I hadn't seen because frankly I never go on there anymore.  I emailed back.  He isn't chatty, this one, but responds pretty quickly.  I winked and emailed some others, not really caring about the entire ordeal. 

Cop states very clearly in his profile and again in email that he is ready to settle down, get married and have kids.  He'snot originally from CG so I don't know him.  After several emails he gave me his number, blah blah we text and he wants to see me tonight after I clean.  WTF.  Ok, calm down.  This isn't going to be like last time.  Meet him, in your baggy jeans and t shirt, see what his deal is, and go home.  The end.

However, he has a name like Herbert, that is not Herbert, but I can't imagine screaming it out impassioned in bed.  I would start laughing hysterically and as I have already discovered, men do not like that when they are trying to get it on.  But what would I say?  If he has manly last name, would I use that?  A nickname perhaps?  Future mothers, as sick as it may seem, please consider the dilema you would create should you name your future son something like Eggbert or Norville.

Normally I am so nervous I can't see straight.  I think after the non-feeling relationship with Scotty, discovering that the EX is happily married, and being dumped by Work Guy after discovering that the Principal who wanted to marry me would never have worked out..... I'm devoid of feeling.  Because if you can't feel, you can't get crushed into a million tiny pieces.  You CAN, however, have sex :-)

I'm ok with giving up on the idea of true romance with happily ever after, but I don't think I should give up on some nookie until I reach 40.  (I reserve the right to reconsider that at 40.)

Diabolical blow by the EX.

The Ex.  I keep him locked away as that poor unfortunate 7 years of our lives.  I feel guilt for being the crazy person I was.  I felt anger at the lazy unresponsive momma's boy he tended to be.  But all and all, I hoped he was happy, because he really was my first true love.

	true love
	A feeling where you cannot bare to be apart from a certain person for long, where you can clearly picture their face in your mind, where you know you can tell them anything and they will listen, where you don't need to have sex or alcohol to make a night special and just being in each others company makes you forget your troubles. True love is when the person you love unconditionally feels the same way about you, where you know you can trust each other and never want to be with anyone else ever again. It can be instant 'love at first sight' and can also grow over time. When i first saw you i knew you were special, not i know i have found my true love. http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=first+true+love   Start at the beginning.   I was working at a strip club as a waitress/concierge.  Get your mind out of the gutter, it was fairly clean.  Anyway, the EX had worked there before me and was still friends with the bosses.  He taped shows for my manager and came in to hang out a few times.  To me, at 19, he looked old.  I mean to any 19 year old a 24 year old dude looks old.  He would come in, stand as far away from my concierge desk as possible and chit chat.  I was a bit keen for my age and knew what he wanted.  My manager used to watch me on video and make fun of his attempted flirting.  Well, one night he brings me a king sized Snickers with all the innuendo and I just go blunt, as I am less want to be than now.   "So, are you going to ask for my number or hang out against the wall all night?"   He did, and we got together.  It was sad really.  He didn't know how to date, I wasn't patient enough to teach him.  The only thing we had going was sex after hours, and I was getting really sick of only knowing how to be sexual with a guy.  At that young, stupid age I thought love was possible.  I went back to my Air Force Guy who had that air of being naughty but devotion to who I was, rather than my sexuality.  I wanted connection.  I wanted sustenance.  I was a drowning girl who needed to be loved.   Shortly after Air Force Guy demolished my heart (don't feel bad for me, I get revenge later) I reached out to to the EX as friends.  We went down to the new Tempe Town Lakes and there next to the water he told me in the most laid back way possible, that he would be friends with me and that would mean so much...   And we were friends for a couple months.  We played the card game War, at which point I lost and showed how much like my lovely mother I can be about losing  I believe at one point I stood on his neck, but definitely pinned him to the ground by both arms with my feet and made him cry mercy.  Whenever it would start to get tense, I would call a friend to pick me up.   Eventually I said "what the hell" and started sleeping with him again.  I made it very clear we were not dating.  Then I got him a husky for Christmas.  Fucking dog was awesome, but hell on earth. I might as well have given birth for all the blood and grief she brought us.  But we loved her.  Together.  Before saying we loved each other.  He calmly waited.  Then it got irritating to say he was "the guy I was seeing" so I called him my boyfriend.    And what became a normal January moving forward, I couldn't bare it any more.  I felt like I was settling and getting nowhere.  My life had gone from dancing to college drop out due to panic attack.  Life as a waitress at a strip club

 days a week, working at a Lube Shop during the day, back to college and dance, teaching kids and feeling like I was too fucked up to be a role model.......  It came pouring down on me, 

Air Force Guy was back in town and that definitely made me go crazy.

I dumped the EX. 

I was so exhausted buy my 80hour work week I would come to the crap apartment I shared with pothead who had an affinity for black guys you could pick up at gas stations after dark, and pass into a coma.  I could not open my eyes if the brick shithole had been on fire.  Then, there he was sitting over me.  Shaking my shoulders that we needed to talk.  All the caffeine in heaven could not have made me respond.  He told me he love me.  Wanted more than anything to be with me.

Messed up pattern after messed up pattern we kept getting back together.  He would fuck up, then me.  It was all that youth drama pouring out of us.

Last weekend I went to LA to visit my sis and her hubby for her birthday.  I haven't actually seen Meghan on her birthday in years, maybe decades.  I have been feeling more depressed at my life than I have since I was 19, having panic attacks and driving off roads because I couldn't breath.  It is different but the same dark cloud of uncertainty.  Where am I going?
But being with them always helps.

At Disneyland, I tried not to think about my last two trips there with the Principal, or the one before that with the EX.  Unexpectedly, Meghan asked about the EX.  I told her he moved to Colorado, and joked about my stupid phone call to him a few months earlier.  He adored our dog Cutter, as anyone in their right mind would.  I had been rubbing Cutter's belly and instinctively called the EX.  He responded the next day in an acerbic text, but relented a few days later with questions on how everyone was doing.

Meghan laughed, it was so Ex to be that way.  I recalled how I had wanted him to be more well read when I was 20, so he bought a book of love poems for us to read in bed- completely oblivious to the fact that reading them aloud mortified me.  The one time he had taken me to a restaurant where they had fine diner and dancing, but he couldn't dance to save his life.  How he made dinner at his place and selected the romantic channel so we could dance after desert.  Or how he used to let me climb him like a monkey in my early dancing days so I could show him how a partner had to react on stage.

Or how after the final time we broke and he moved out and hadn't spoken a word in 3 months he stepped out of a busy bar to take my frantic phone call about how my dad had almost died and I was so sorry I had never asked him how it felt when his father had gone through triple bypass when he was 19.  How in the declining months of my father's health, the EX had taken the animals when I needed to focus on work and family hospital visits.  Visited dad at the hospital when he was dying.  Had fed me my favorite Mexican food while I cried in his lap after my dad was given his last rites.  Had made love to me, with no expectations of rekindling, but because I needed it.  Came to see me at the condo where our relationship met its demise, to comfort me by caressing my head and telling me my father loved me.  Coming to the funeral, too hands off for my liking.  For taking walks with me as I tried to exercise more.  For taking me into his arms that last time and kissing me passionately, though I was too far gone, and telling me to take that into consideration.  He said he always pictured, some day, walking down the street we would run into each other and it would happen.  We would be together again.  Then months later, watching my dog and cat and my mother's animals while we went to Iowa, coming to jump my car at the airport when I was hysterical and couldn't cope.  Giving me his car to take to work the next day so he could get mine fixed for me while keeping all the beasts.  For picking me up at a bar some months later with just a call saying I needed him, and holding me all night long without trying for more......\

No, I did not say all of this to my sister and brother in law, but it got my mind thinking.  Meghan said she always thought we would have worked if we had met later in life, after all the crazy days had been worn out of us.  Instead, we had endured that together.  I rather thought we had inflicted it on each other.  I told her I felt like such a shit girlfriend, all the things I did to him.  All the things I took for granted.  But she just laughed, it was meant to be at the time.  Wrong timing.

I told her I hoped he was happy.  I hoped he had found love.  And I really meant it.

For some stupid, unfuckingthinkable reason I looked at his Facebook a week later.  On his timeline it said he had gotten married a week ago.  My whole world shifted.  I was punched in the gut by an invisible gremlin.  I couldn't think beyond texting my sister and Ange.  I was sobbing uncontrollably.  It was mostly disbelief that I had to acknowledge that this very long timeline had come to an end.  He was forever out of my reach.  Guilt at all I had put him through.  Despair that I had not been the one.

But beyond all of that, I was happy that he was not like me.  Not stuck in a pattern, but could find true happiness.  I didn't envy him.  I was thankful he was finally appreciated as he should be.  When you truly love someone, you wish them that even as your heart breaks into 84,000 pieces.

The next day at work one of my guys told me I looked good, like I was tired and didn't care but it worked for me.  I told him what I learned the night before and he hit on me.  I may not care, but I still can shoot you down.

The weeks following this painful revelation have taken its toll on my liver and I am ready to move on. 

One word of caution:
To you who have married my EX.. Make him happy or I will return to my 19 year old persona of going ape-shit crazy.  I am bigger and stronger now.  I am completely capable of ripping every strand of hair from your homely assed head, beating your face and I will make sure your teeth are so broken when you swallow them that your ass will bleed in reminder of the pain you have caused one of the nicest men I have known in my entire life. 

And that is all I have to say about that.

Deaf, Dumb and Blind?

I get it that women are the ones who over-analyze, pick things apart looking for a deeper meaning.  But men can't be completely oblivious.  Can they?

I have explained my situation with Scotty to Chloe, who was dumbfounded by the fact he would invite me to meet his family when I have cooled off considerably.  We haven't discussed any feelings or relationship equators.  By the end of September, when he plans to take me to meet parents, we will have been non-exclusively dating for 5 months.....  It makes no freaking sense.  Here I am, wanting to bring things to an end and he thinks we should plan vacation? 

Chloe shared my head scratching at this puzzle.  There is something rotten in the state of Denmark.  Is he turning a blind eye because he wants someone to hang out with?  Does he just not see the signs?  Can he believe this is really how relationships progress?

Last week when we drove to Payson for the day I was talking about age and feeling like I have come to the realization that it is all ver for me. I have reached the age where there is little to no hope of getting married, having a family...  Those options are fading away.  Scotty scoffed, tried to reassure me that I had plenty of time.  I kept waiting for him to put two and two together- I'm talking about not finding anyone while I'm travelling with you!  Alarm bells!  Talk about the future.

That would have been too easy for me.  I could have segued into my flawless monologue about how we haven't gotten closer.....

With our empty, repetitive texting and run of the mill conversation.... (I talk about the fucking weather!  I hate when people talk about their own weather like they can't just walk outside and figure it the fuck out on their own?  No, I need a male to text me about it?  Should I just say I don't care when weather comes up.  It shouldn't b this hard. Sigh.)

...There aren't any emotions other than friendship developing.  (If he was only my friend I could tell him how much it irritates me when he baby talks to his cat.  Or over-annunciates my cat's name because I corrected him after three months of him not getting it right.  He would text "How is drago?" and I would respond "Draco is an asshole." Yet he would continue to spell it wrong an pronounce it sharply "Dra-Go".  So now, he says Dra-CO very, very pointedly and  I want to choke the living shit out of him right after I rake my eyeballs out.)

But no, Scotty doesn't seem to notice he is bothering me.  He doesn't see we are not swooning over one another.  He doesn't hear my monotone side of the conversation, or understand when I do not laugh at his not funny attempts at humor.  This cannot be beneficial for him in anyway...... Yet, there he is.  Still texting me.  I think the guy just needs something to do.

Another one bites the dust

After much strained communication with Scotty, it is finally over.  A few weeks ago I had strengthened my resolve to throw that fish back in the sea, even role played with Chloe on how to say it right.

"I don't feel like this is working for me.  We shouldn't see each other anymore."  And other such stuff.

I invited him over for dinner, planning to have the talk but he pushed it back to the weekend.  I was irritated that I would have to endure 3 more days of worrying about it, not to mention all the same texts over and over and over again.

Friday night arrived and we went to dinner at Pita Jungle again, because he knows I like that place and was trying to be accommodating.  I talked non-stop about all the documentaries I had been watching, so it wasn't all that awkward....  Back at my house he pinned me against the refrigerator and was trying to passionately kiss me.  I kept pushing him back, but he was forceful.  I shoved at him and said I didn't want to make out.  He insisted that he did.  He didn't understand why I never wanted to kiss him any more.  We sat down on the couch and I started.

"When we would make out before, you would take it as far as you could and I would have to be the one to keep things in check.  It was exhausting and frustrating.  I got to the point that is was much easier not to make out with you than to have to over think it constantly."

"We should have talked about that."

"We did.  It didn't change until I felt I had been mean enough about it."

"Well, I don't want you to feel that way.  You were never mean.  I'm sorry I wasn't doing my part."

"It's ok.  I just don't feel like we're where we should be emotionally for having dated four months."

I kept feeling like it was closing but apparently he felt like we were opening up.  This guy just wants to be with someone. 

Our texts died away over the weekend and after an entire day without any I thought he may have finally realized what I was talking about.  As much as I hated to do it, I texted him.

Me: This isn't working, is it?

Scotty: Doesn't seem that way.  I have just kind of given up.

Me:  I'm sorry it didn't work out.

Scotty: No need to be sorry.

Now all he is concerned with is getting his pressure cooker back.  He offers to come pick it up, I offer to drop it off.  He has to control where the stupid pot is exchanged.  For two weeks the when and where of getting rid of this thing resulted in a text asking me to place it behind my garbage can and he would pick it up after work.  Was it so terribly awkward that he doesn't ever want to see me again?  This was a bit ridiculous.

So I texted him that I understood if he didn't want to see me but this was feeling a little weird.  I would drop it off at his place, and if he wasn't home I would put it in the alcove by his door.  Of course he texted back immediately that it wasn't that he didn't want to see me, was just trying to make things easier.  On who?

Whatever possessed me, I checked Facebook and sure enough he had de-friended me.  Apparently, it was to make things easier on him.