Some of the experiences I’ve had since my split from Will almost five years ago have helped me understand that relationship better. As you may recall, after falling quickly and deeply in love with him, after we named our first born and I practically moved into his tiny apartment, he broke up with me. Callously.
I didn’t realize it at the time – or couldn’t face it – but after we got back together our relationship was never the same. Perhaps if I’d been more self-aware, I could have fixed it. But I wasn’t, and I didn’t. My core feelings for him, my trust in him, my attraction to him all changed. We went from a lively and exploratory sex life to an almost dead bedroom.
He wounded me more deeply than any other man has. I had fully given him my heart and trust, and months later he told me he “wasn’t feeling it.” Continue reading →
Referring to two of the above-mentioned men, a friend commented yesterday that I “have a lot of serious contenders these days”. I snort-laughed and replied I wasn’t so sure.
Tony hasn’t yet moved out – he’s actively looking for an apartment but I am rather cynical when it comes to him, for very good reasons. Last weekend he mentioned he, his soon-to-be-ex (STBX), and their son had plans to go skiing together, and I was immediately reminded of the first winter we dated and that they did it every weekend.
It doesn’t mean they aren’t splitting up and it doesn’t mean they are in limbo. Intellectually I know all it means is they are still co-parenting a young child. Some parents still do stuff together during and after a split – I didn’t, but my close friend Maria did, and still does.
This built over over time, piece by piece. Moments of clarity, frustration, solitude, and heartbreak in the last four-and-a-half years have culminated in the place I am today. As someone said to me recently, we are, after all, the result of the good and bad decisions we’ve made.
Regardless how I got here, I’m here. And it’s pretty awesome.
I am, at present, without romantic yearning or expectations.
Thursday night was the “date night” Tony referred to in a conversation earlier in the week. We had no date-like plans, which was fine by me. I took some more of my freedom back today, but ended up trapped anyway…on the couch.
It was an awesome day, to be honest. I herded cats real hard at work, had a coffee date with a man I haven’t seen in over a year (more to come), and continued my journey of speaking my truth and closing doors.
I’ve maintained the burner phone number app for many months – I got it first to communicate with Tony, but then used it primarily for online dating. I’d recommend it to anyone. Continue reading →
I’ve decided to write my book. Enough people who didn’t want to get into my pants told me I should, so I figured I’d put my fear of failure aside and go for it. What do I really have to lose?
I know nothing about publishing, so I’m asking friends for information and guidance. A successful author said to me, “write the book people want to read, not the one you want to write,” which gave me pause. I’m not sure I know what people want to read.
Expectation management: it’s a thing. Having no or low expectations means they are more likely to be exceeded. Hope is the enemy of expectation management. But what is better? Regular dating disappointment with occasional glimmers of excitement, or never having the pain?
In investing, we talk about risk-reward. High-risk investments are those more likely to provide higher gains. But they could also wipe out your savings. Conversely, advisors will tell you the earlier you can get in the market the better, even with small amounts and low-risk investment vehicles.
Given my experiences this year, I’ve been thinking about the number of dating disasters I’ve had. It occurred to me it could have more to do with the volume of men I’ve met, than consistent bad choices or inherent bad luck. In other words, if I’ve met one hundred men and had twenty crap experiences, it’s not a worse track record than someone who meets ten and has only two to speak of. Continue reading →
Last Friday, I came home in the evening from some international work travel. It was one of those trips where I leave one afternoon, stay overnight, have an intense work day, then fly home. A booty call was not what I was hoping for.
I had made plans to see a girlfriend that night and canceled. I was exhausted emotionally and physically and wanted to cocoon in my own house.
Dan (the plumber) and I had earlier discussed I could possibly see him after I’d seen my girlfriend. I texted to tell him I’d canceled those plans and why, and if he wanted to come over and hang out he’d be welcome. Continue reading →
Gregory told me once he didn’t believe in fate or things happening for a reason. It was a happy accident the Tinder algorithm decided to show my profile to him. I don’t know what I believe – is it true you get what you put out into the universe? That the universe sends you signs all the time, the key is being open to them?
Could it be someone or something cares enough about what I do that Gregory finding out about my blog is the universe punishing me for any perceived misdeeds with Tony?
I don’t know. I’m a practical sort: I actually don’t spend a lot of my time thinking those big universe type thoughts. I’d like to believe in karma and reincarnation. According to a noted psychic, in one of my past lives, I was a very powerful healer. Dunno. But I do live my life as if it’s the only one I have. Continue reading →
We arrived at my place, got inside, I took off my coat, and Gregory was on me instantly. Gone were the perfect kisses I liked. They were replaced by full tongue-down-my-throat action. I don’t know I can call them kisses, I don’t know what the hell they are. I usually end up not knowing exactly what to do.
Those kisses are gross, guys. I feel skewered and unable to react. There’s a difference between a momentary thrust of a tongue down a throat… but keep it there? A whole lot of NOPE.
He didn’t want wine, he only wanted me. We stood in the same place for a while – his hands all over me, his tongue down my throat – until we agreed to go upstairs. Once again, we didn’t spend any time on my couch.