Trying to relax with Bruce.

Thankfully, it wasn’t over after sex with Bruce on the second date. We exchanged a few texts as he drove home – an almost hour-long drive – and he called me “sweetie” when he texted goodnight. But I still had dating anxiety.

The next morning I sent a good morning text and we had a brief exchange. Mid-morning he checked in to say he hoped I was having a good day. We had another exchange at the end of the day. All consistent with the days prior.

That night I was at a sporting event with a close friend. A man who reminds me a bit of Bruce, actually, and Bruce and I bantered off and on throughout the game. I asked whether he was used to a woman squirting since he seemed pretty chill about it. Continue reading

Bruce: he of the magic…

Bruce and I had our second date the evening he came back from a vacation with friends and family. Because he didn’t know exactly what the drive would be like, we didn’t have an exact time set.

He kept in touch with me though and I found it quite courteous. He called the moment he had steady cell service – with his kids in the car – to give me an update on the rough time. He also called when he finally got home, and then when he was about 15 minutes away.

Such a stark contrast to Kyle, where I was left wondering whether our dates were still on, hours before they were supposed to occur. 

Bruce and I hadn’t talked about what we were going to do, so the default was dinner somewhere in my neighbourhood. He knocked on my door and didn’t greet me with a kiss.

I wasn’t fussed – he seems ever so slightly awkward in these situations. After all, I had to ask him to kiss me goodbye on our first date. He was super game once I broke the seal, but he seemed rather clueless until then. 

He said as much to me on our first date – that he doesn’t know when women are hitting on him. It’s hard to believe a tall, handsome, and muscular guy doesn’t have good game, but he genuinely seems to not.

Or he’s a player and he knows exactly what playing dumb does to a woman. But that’s a hooded Kermit thought right there.

I offered him a beer and after he checked out my main floor and I poured myself a drink, we sat on my couch and talked. After our second drinks, we decided it was time to go eat – it was already 9:30pm.

whoops! I hit publish instead of “save draft”… so I’m gonna leave this here but I didn’t mean to write a cliffhanger!

He’s a lying sack of shit.

Jack and I spoke last week midweek. I’m not sure I will ever speak to him again.

He’d asked for a copy of the dating story about us I’d written for a local paper. We’d had a brief text exchange in which he said “you can text me anytime”, to which I replied given he was so bad at responding with any speed it didn’t make me want to text him. He said he was in therapy and was learning that not replying was a form of control for him.

I called him because I didn’t want my reply to be spread out over the course of several days. I said my issue was that a lack of response was inconsiderate and disrespectful. He sounded like crap. I asked if the therapy was helping and he said he’d had only two sessions so far. He said he’d talked to his ex-girlfriend which helped him process things, but she had little time for it because she had already worked through it. Shocker. Continue reading

The world is small, the dating world, smaller.

Two of my friends are freshly separated – less than a year. They are in the midst of negotiating settlements and getting used to their new normal. Both have recently started dating and we have an ongoing three-way text chat to share our highs and lows. And dick pics.

The first friend is looking only for casual sex. She’s on Adult Friend Finder. One guy she met had the same name as someone I went on one date with, perhaps three years ago. It’s not a common name but not rare, either. She shared a picture (as we tend to do) and I didn’t recognize him.

They went on a date a week or so later. She mentioned they went back to his place, where it was located, and that he had some erection trouble. My spidey sense tingled. “Hey, can you share a pic?” I asked, via text. 

Oh good lord.

It was the same guy. The first pic he had sunglasses on but the second was his LinkedIn profile.

The hilarity ensued. I don’t think I wrote about him – if I did it’s buried in a text about dating fails – because as nice as our date was, he was weird when we got back to his place and he wasn’t able to perform. Hence why he’s not on my “men I had sex with” list.

What we both found funny is we are polar opposites in looks – I’m blonde, fair, and curvy, and she is a dark-skinned, lithe athlete. He has good taste, that’s for sure.

They had a rather chill fuck buddy situation for several weeks. She never told him we knew each other lest it freak him out. 

Then yesterday I was hanging out with the other friend. She’d had a good first date with a man named Leo who was from the same country as my Leo. But not the same guy – we checked. I asked her if she had any more dates lined up.

“Not really,” she said, “but there’s another guy from [foreign country] who is there right now but I may see him when he’s back”.

Hmm. Same country as someone I used to date. But that’s common. Still.

“What’s his name?”

“Sevag.”

Ummm. 

“Hey do you have a picture?” 

It was him. He Who Shall Not Be Named. I told her the highlights of our story, which are removed from the blog – the intense first few dates, his third date declaration of love, his stalking my social media which led to his finding my blog, his descent into crazy jealousy, the threats and the police getting involved.

She isn’t going to keep in touch with him. I hated being the bearer of bad news, but she doesn’t like what she now knows he’s capable of.

Oh, and she used to be best friends with Tony’s again-wife, and she’s work friends with Jack’s ex-wife.

I live in a big city and continue to be amazed at how small it seems to be. I suspect this will keep happening. 

Dream, and make it real.

I dream, but I rarely remember them. It seems to happen only when I wake up for a few minutes, then go back to sleep.

Last night I slept the fitful sleep of someone who had two wine dates with girlfriends in the same evening. At 3 am I drank lots of water and took ibuprofen to avoid the inevitable over-imbibing headache.

I dreamt I was traveling to Faraway Lover’s town. My hotel room phone was missing the handset, so I went to the lobby and asked for help to make a phone call. I ended up in a call center, where I tried to call his number. It didn’t work: I couldn’t get through.  Continue reading

dating Jack

Starting to settle in: dating Jack

The conversations with Jack are starting to meld together. It’s the problem when living my life outpaces my ability to write about it. I’m going to try to get caught up with this post with our dating status.

We had the kind of fourth date made necessary by single parentdom: a late night visit. It was a three-act play similar to the third date: a drink on my couch with lots of conversation, moving to my bedroom for some good sex, and then talking far too late into the wee hours of the morning.

This time, instead of waiting for me to suggest it, he asked to take me upstairs. I liked it.  Continue reading

dating communication and exclusivity

A communication hiccup, followed by exclusivity

Previous Post

Unfortunately, Jack and I experienced a hiccup in our early dating communication. Well, to be specific, he didn’t realize a hiccup occurred, but it did.

He didn’t reply to my text, but over lunch, he called. Even better. He told me his parent had taken a turn for the worse in the hospital – he’s been there every day for a few hours. But he went on to tell me his ex-girlfriend (with whom he is still sharing a house, but imminently moving out of) called the police on him to say he had assaulted her.

Wait. What? Continue reading

after the first dinner date

After two dates: first, the excitement

After kissing him goodbye at my front door at the end of our epic first dinner date, I floated up the stairs and texted him to say thank you for the amazing night. I also gave him my real mobile number so we could get off the sluggish burner app.

He replied with a simple “good night, text you there tomorrow”. 

The next morning, the other man I’d agreed to meet from POF cancelled our date. He too is moving houses and he said while he wasn’t normally this flighty, he really needed more time to deal with the house and his children. It was fine by me, I was exhausted.

As promised, Jack texted. He asked how I slept then remembered I was supposed to be at brunch (I didn’t tell him who with) and I replied that it was blissfully cancelled and asked him how he was doing. He didn’t reply.  Continue reading

chemistry and sensual sex

A dinner date for my history book: Part 3

Previous Post 

It didn’t take long after sitting on my couch before we started kissing again. We’d had almost four hours of talking and there was no need for any more.

Luxuriating in a kiss is truly one of life’s great pleasures. There’s a time and place for moving quickly, but this wasn’t one of them. Jack and I had amazing kissing chemistry. I’m a responsive lover: I will often match someone’s pace and style, which is likely why I’m told I’m an great kisser. In this case, we were already well matched.

Jack was slow to take things further. This was not a five-minutes-of-kissing-then-shove-a-hand-down-my-pants experience. He took his time to explore.

Continue reading

when online dating brings you a good match

When the others fall away.

[Part 3 of our date is coming, but I wasn’t in the right head space yesterday to write it – Jack and I have had a slight communication hiccup (I’m sure that’s all it is) – and I knew it would affect my accurate depiction of the rest of our night together. So here’s a post I’d scheduled originally for tomorrow.]

:::

It’s the difference between “sure, this is okay” and “FUCK YES”. I haven’t felt this way about someone in a long time. I did about Kyle, but his unresponsiveness killed it.  He was a “fuck yes” for me, but I wasn’t for him. (And if you haven’t read the Mark Manson article on it, check it out here). Online dating sometimes serves up a great potential match.

When the intellectual and physical chemistry is truly there, all others fall away. And if they don’t, that person isn’t doing it for you.

I hid my POF profile on Sunday. I told the two men I was having conversations with that I was going offline because I’d met someone I wanted to focus on, but if I came back I would reach out. They both replied they appreciated the message and wished me luck. Continue reading