It’s over before it really got started.

All the Harper posts are down, as you may notice. He informed me today that a friend of his told him about my blog. Someone who doesn’t know my real life identity, apparently. Which seems inconceivable, but given I seem to be insanely unlucky with ugly coincidences, I suppose it’s plausible.

He read a bit about himself. Not sure if he read anything else.

So that’s it. He “called it”. Said he needed his life to be simple. We’d only been on two dates, he just got out of his 25-year marriage, and was busy traveling in December… all said to impress on me that his ending it was no big deal.

There was nothing I could say to change his mind. I apologized via text after we hung up the phone and said while yes, we’d only had two dates, I felt a compatibility I’d rarely found and hoped at some point he’d reconsider.

Then I sat at my kitchen counter sobbing for a good long while.

Finally done with John.

It was Wednesday, and John did a decent job during the day of chilling out. He sent only a few texts about Friday’s plans. He said he was going to bring food, his guitar, and his favorite movie and I wouldn’t have to do a thing. It sounded pretty good.

He’d asked again whether he could come over that night, and I’d said I needed a quiet night. While it was true, it was also because I wanted – needed – to create some space between the two of us in the hopes he’d relax about things. I told him I’d chalked up the previous day’s texting debacle to temporary insanity.

I was putting Liam to bed and noticed a series of texts come in. John said “Fuck it I’m coming over to see you. I’ll just hop in the shower first.” Continue reading

The more John tries, the more I back away

John had promised to chill out and stop talking about being exclusive and where things were going with us. I wasn’t convinced it could happen, but I wanted to give him a try.

It was now Tuesday. He managed to keep the text traffic to a minimum that day. He knew things were very busy for me at work. He didn’t have a job. I told him when I got home: I had Liam.

He sent a list of all the dates we were going to have by the end of the week, saying I should be in love with him about 20% by Friday. I knew he was trying to be funny, but it only served to make me feel that he really wasn’t listening to my ask of him to take things slow.

Continue reading

John is romantic; I am irritated.

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Forgot in my prior post to mention that during the game, John had trouble figuring out how to set the lock screen on his Android phone. We figured it out and his choice for lock screen picture was…. the picture I’d sent him of myself. I died a little inside… it seemed WAY too much for me. He also Facebook friend requested me, and I told him I wasn’t accepting it because it was way too soon. But I let it go.

Monday morning he sent me a few song lyrics he wrote for me (hence my reference to him as a poet). It was nice, but I chafed a little at his over-the-top romanticism. Continue reading

The plumber, another poet, and the lumber guy.

I love the conversations I have with Hyacinth when we are confused about the male topics of conversation. “Which one is he again, Ann?” she’ll exclaim, “you know I can’t keep any of them straight!”

Admittedly, between the two of us, it is a little difficult. There are too many men with the same name or same characteristics.

And right now, I’m very behind. I could have written five posts about John already. Looking at the week ahead I know I won’t get caught up, so this is my attempt to do a round up to the current date (pardon the pun). My “men in the mix” page is proving very helpful for me, but not sure if anyone else is taking a look. I just updated it, if you’re interested.  Continue reading

The dirty poet.

The man who referred to himself as a poet peppered his texts with “you’re such a little sweetheart” and sunflower emojis. When we met at a downtown bar for an after-work drink, my first thought was he might be bisexual. He had that way about him.

He’s in his mid-fifties and after ending his 25-year marriage, he got a tattoo, a nipple ring, and earrings in both ears. He’s in the film industry in an artistic role.

When I departed that first date, he stayed seated on the barstool, we hugged and he gave me what I would call a quick peck on the lips. Later, he professed via text how excited that kiss got him. He said he felt a spark.

Huh?  Continue reading

Men who work with their hands.

I was fed up with the bullshit of recent events. It got so bad, my personal trainer, hearing a new disaster or story every week, asked me if I played the lottery because my luck was so bad with men it had to be good elsewhere.

So one recent night, bolstered with a bit of liquid courage, I said “fuck this shit”. If I really wanted someone in my life, I needed to seriously get back in the game. I had opened my Bumble profile a few weeks prior and it was lackluster so far – quite literally, nothing to write about.

I already had open profiles on Coffee Meets Bagel and the League, both which took about 5 minutes of effort each day to say whether I liked the one or two men they served up, and yielded absolutely nothing.  Continue reading

No, you’re not going crazy.

Edit: I removed the ability to make comments on this post. Given what was being said, it’s the kind of commentary I didn’t want my friend to have to read – one reason I didn’t post the whole story in the first place. I was angry, but I’ve moved past it. Life is too short and friendships are too valuable. I know you’ll understand.

::

Some of you may have seen a notification of a post called “Well that was a bad idea.” You’re not crazy. But it was published and taken down within a matter of minutes. It was a mistake.

It doesn’t happen often that I elect to take down posts – in fact, only twice in the history of my blog. When I was breaking up with fellow blogger Johnny Id I steadfastly refused to do anything but post it all here. We met as bloggers, he knew I wrote about everything, and I prioritized my need to keep this space as my own, with my truth, over keeping it private between us.  It was divisive and ugly.

There’s a difference between knowing the truth and seeing it shared publicly.

However, the story of Ali / Sevag / HWSNBN was removed because I was quite literally being threatened. My personal safety was in question and as much as I wanted to keep the story up, it wasn’t worth the risk.

This time, the thing that is a risk is a friendship, and ultimately, as much as I wrote a post that I think is balanced and fair, and is from my perspective, there’s a friend on the other end.

So what the fuck happened,? I met that guy for a coffee date. It was amazing: the aftermath wasn’t. Turns out I shouldn’t go on dates where there are blurred lines between the guy and one of my friends. I should have known better. So it’s done with him.

#clusterfuck

Am I the douchebag?

“At least I’m self-aware,” I say to my friends. But it’s no excuse, really. I’m conflicted about how to behave in the dating gray area I’m in.

I’m all about intention. Meaning, I care what someone’s intention is with me – their purpose for interacting with me and their end goal. I am dating Bruce (which I think I still call it even though I’ve only seen him once for 45 minutes in 5 weeks, yet talked on the phone almost every day) with the intention of seeing if he’s relationship material. I have told him that.

If I have sex with Lewis, it’s with no intention of developing anything deeper. He is the same. We are aligned and clear on the nature of our “relationship”. Jake and I each know we have fun together but mutually agreed we won’t ever be anything more than sex buddies. We are both cool with that. Continue reading

I’m back, with a few things to report.

I’m back from my 2.5 week vacation with Liam. It was a lot of fun, although my wallet was stolen by pickpocketers in Madrid which really sucked. I didn’t feel a thing and they got it out of a purse. Such is life.

It’s been a long time since I’ve been off for more than two weeks. It was a great break. I didn’t think about work (much), and I was able to get the hurt of Jack out of my system – which I didn’t really try to do but just realized one day I hadn’t been thinking about him. Perfect. Continue reading