I didn’t say “I love you” back.

When Fox told me he’d fallen in love with me, I wasn’t surprised. There were several moments in the last few weeks where I could feel and see those words shimmering just below the surface.

I’ve thought them myself, usually in the midst of or after sex. But when the phrase “I love him” popped into my consciousness, I dismissed it as partially due to that wonderful drug Oxytocin. Because it’s designed to bind us to someone in this very fashion. I wasn’t ready to say it and certainly didn’t want to be the first.

Why do I resist?

I am keenly aware I told another man I loved him just last week. Now, it was in the process of telling him I couldn’t see him again, but still. I know I will always have a place in my heart for Tony, even if I’m moving on.

All that to say, somehow it felt disingenuous in that moment to tell Fox I loved him.

I don’t want to say it just because he did. How often do we hear those words and feel compelled to respond in kind? You can’t take it back – can’t say “yeah I know I said I love you but upon further reflection I’m not so sure.”

But even more fundamental is my need to process how I feel in this relationship.

As I’ve said before, I feel calm. There is no anxiety. I know how he cares about me. He’s amazing to me. He’s steady and comforting. I’m fully embracing moving to a serious relationship with him. I like how he kisses me and the sex keeps getting better.


He doesn’t make me howl with laughter. His touch doesn’t instantly electrify me the way Tony’s did. He’s not high energy, or an extrovert. He’s a type “B”. He’s tall and relatively slim but not muscular. He’s never been to an Opera (okay the last one is true but irrelevant since he’s willing to go with me).

None of these particularly matter, but it’s not the type to which I’m usually drawn. He gives me so much and yet I worry about the relatively inconsequential things. In the past, I’ve taken chemistry over comfort. Muscles over maturity. Laughter over love.

These were not good decisions, but it’s a pattern I’m familiar with.

I worry as the first man to quench my thirst, I could be blind. I worry about being wrong.

After all, the Platters did say: “when your hearts on fire, you must realize, smoke gets in your eyes.

There’s no anxiety or drama. Is this how it’s supposed to be?

As wise as I may be about dating, human nature, and sex, I confess to being rather useless when it comes to actual relationships. I have lots of practice when it comes to everything else.

I can’t really count the two long-term high school relationships, right?

The first was a year with an egotistical, charismatic, and self-absorbed musician who later became a bona fide star. He was three years older yet I was his first lover. He broke my heart and I let him have sex with me for six months after he dumped me for another woman – to whom he’s still married. His band is still around and every time I hear his music I think – wow, dodged a bullet with that dude. Continue reading

What a difference a guy makes…

Do you remember the Tony drama about whether I was his girlfriend? The guy who wasn’t into “labels” and resisted (for reasons that became clear after the fact) using such a term, even though we were exclusive?

Let’s say I’ve been in a relationship desert for the bulk of the last seventeen years. When you don’t know what’s possible, you take what you are given. Coming out of a marriage desert, when a man gives you a sip of water, you feel like your thirst should be quenched.

But you wonder why you still feel thirsty. Continue reading

It's easy to be chill when you don't care.

A few months ago, I came across an article which had me saying “YES. This.” It’s called “Against Chill”.

I am decidedly un-chill. I am passionate and intense and feel deep and fall hard.

But I can cultivate chill. I talk the big brave talk about my dating rules, which 95% of the time I’m really good at following. Like I mentioned last week, I’m rather proudly blasé about not hearing from the Accountant or Mr. Fetlife. Hell, I even totally missed that Mr. Checklist and I hadn’t texted for three days.

Yup. I’m a badass chill cool cat.

Yeah, right. Continue reading

I'm not going to keep writing the same post over and over.

That’s a lie: I just might.

I haven’t broken up with Tony. I’m sure some of you are pleased to hear this and some of you just banged your head on your screen in frustration.

I know I don’t want to hang by a thread of hope for something to change. I know I don’t want to live off scraps of communication and affection. I don’t want to be constantly frustrated at wanting more, and not getting it. I know I’m worthy of someone amazing.

I also know Tony and I have a wonderful time together, he cares about me, and makes me laugh. He’s intelligent, passionate, and curious.

My new nickname is Cactus. Continue reading

Part Three | What not to do when you are planning to break up with someone

Part One | Part Two

Tony couldn’t come back to my place with me. He didn’t have a car and had to take his son to school the next morning. So the conversation was pretty much over when we left the bar. Being in public the whole time, we barely even kissed on our date.

My heart was yelling at me to not break it off with him, and my head was yelling that nothing would change in the short term. But his comment about being “everything he’d ever wanted” was what I kept coming back to. Of course – it was what I wanted to hear. I also kept replaying his comment about his ex – thinking for crying out loud, could he not just make that decision?!

I forget when it happened, but at some point he was telling me that he still hadn’t gone to pick up some packages that were delivered to a town about 90 minutes away from where we live – and his accountant said he was “retarded” (yes, knowing that was a terrible word to use) for not even getting that done. I had only one meeting the next day so asked him what he was doing…  Continue reading

Part Two | What not to do when you are planning to break up with someone

Part One

I looked him in the eye and said (not verbatim, and not a monologue):

I am confused and frustrated. I feel that you are not emotionally available. You are not ready to be someone’s boyfriend. I’ve spent a lot of time trying to figure out why. I believe you feel about me the way you say. Perhaps you just aren’t ready – you have a lot of stuff to sort out. Perhaps you don’t know how. Perhaps you don’t realize that what we have is hard to find. The reasons, however, are irrelevant. 

New relationships need care and feeding. I don’t just know how you feel – you have to tell me. I get more “good morning beautiful” texts from exes than from you. My ex husband called me to see how I was doing with my job loss, yet I heard nothing from you. I feel as if you are here for me when it’s convenient, but if it really takes an effort, it’s too much for you. Continue reading

What not to do when you are planning to break up with someone (Part One)

With apologies to Rodgers & Hammerstein, sing with me: “how do you solve a problem like To-ny“…

While he had been even more silent than usual after coming back from his vacation, Tony agreed to come with me to a concert on Thursday night. We had a little bit of text communications and a phone call leading up to Thursday night.

I have been very sad this week. Although not because of anything new, or any one incident, it felt like suddenly all the things I’ve been dealing with had managed to come to the surface. Any discussion about work, Tony, or dealing with Will and Liam, had me on the verge of tears. Sometimes, I cried. Hard. It was not pretty. Continue reading

The farmer I wanted to f*ck, and other stories. 

It was a jam packed weekend, and I’m glad for it. Tony’s silence and arrival tomorrow is starting to weigh heavy. Friday night I spent with a close friend and her next-door neighbour, and it was an alcohol-fueled hilarious and very detailed conversation about men and sex. It’s great to have good friends with whom I can speak openly, and I’m grateful for them.

Saturday after a sports practice for Liam, he and I drove to my father’s town which is about 90 minutes from my house. My half-brother, who is 16 years my junior, was having a birthday party. I hung out with him and his fiance, some other family members, and his friends.

When I came inside to get dinner, there was a very tall, blonde, and handsome man sitting on a bar stool already eating. I had never seen him before, and didn’t catch his name right away when I introduced myself. Turns out he’s a friend of my brothers from a theatre production they did together. He is Dutch. And a farmer. Literally, yes, a real farmer. A young, handsome, tall, Dutch, farmer.  Continue reading

I’m not even sure how to title this post | Where my head’s at.

There’s good and bad in my life right now. And as I’m busy getting my shit in order, I’m not writing. The thoughts are just roaming around in my head, aimlessly.

A brief update for those who care:

The Party & The Comedian

  • The party on Friday night was great fun. I hadn’t heard from the Comedian and figured he wouldn’t show up. But he did. Out of the blue. It was a nice time with him, and weird to be with someone who other guests (and their children) immediately recognized.
  • The Comedian decided to leave a little early. After he gave me a hug and the kind of kiss that meets delightfully partially on ones lips, my drunken friend the host pushed me out the door after him, insisting – out loud – that he must simply make out with me on her porch. He muttered something to me about his life being up in the air, and walked away.
  • In some ways I’m glad he didn’t try to kiss me, because I had planned to tell him about Tony. But on the other hand, I was irritated that there was obviously something going on with him and he didn’t tell me about it. Nor has he contacted me since.

Continue reading