catfish

Anatomy of a Liar Pt. 2

Part One

Bryon and his family’s’ social media accounts showed a very affluent family. He lived the places he said he did. There were pictures of his wife and him together, with and without their adult children, but nothing since year-end 2016.

The conclusion I drew was he perhaps was single, perhaps, but there is no way he’d been split for six years unless they had an unconventional relationship. And if that was the case, if he was actually seeking a new relationship he would be smart enough to say “yes my ex and I are very close, we still do things together blah blah.”

It occurred to me much later that he was so arrogant he didn’t think he needed to do so. He didn’t think anyone would check out his family’s profiles or didn’t care what it showed if they did. Perhaps most women didn’t see the red flags or were blinded by his luxury lifestyle and fancy parties. Continue reading

catfish

They aren’t catfish, Part 2

Part One – being catfished

A couple of days of texting later, I asked whether he wanted to meet for a coffee or drink. He said yes, but he didn’t “really know” where I was. When I said my precise location didn’t matter, he called me “miss spy”. We made plans to meet after work that Friday, and our texting for the next day was perfectly normal.

That was Tuesday.

He didn’t text again.

On Saturday, the day after our supposed date, I texted “what happened to us going out yesterday after work” and he replied the next day “I don’t know, I never heard back you disappeared for two days.” He said he wanted to try again. Continue reading

catfish

They aren’t catfish, but are just as bad.

This may need a new dating term – someone who uses their actual pictures, but who lies about their purpose for being online. They may actually be single as they profess, but they aren’t seeking dating or a relationship. Here’s another story of my being catfished.

The only thing they want is to get off on pictures and a sexually-charged chat.

Some may be willing to speak on the phone, but most aren’t. Some are very clever at how they present and interact, and it’s hard to realize they are not-quite-catfish.

This has happened to me three times in two weeks.  Continue reading

The time I created serious drama with Bruce.

Previous post.

My heart sank. OH FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK I thought. I texted back immediately “Oh shit. I’m so sorry.”

I was standing in my bathroom and steadied myself on my doorway as tears welled up. It’s over, I thought. I fucked up, doesn’t matter if it was an honest mistake. He’s going to think I’m crazy and now I’ve caused drama.

I took some deep breaths.

He replied: “No, my bad, don’t know phone numbers…”

“I was really worried about you.”

“Thanks for the concern, talk soon.” Continue reading

Where my brain went when Bruce disappeared

Bruce evaporated Friday night. His radio silence was highly unusual. I’ve tried to recreate the mental paths I went down during this time, so my actions are contextualized. My Mom and my friends generally concurred with my analysis and helped me figure out what to do. One friend was convinced he’d ghosted or was lying about being single, but she was the exception. I promised myself if either of those were true, I would take a real break from dating. I was 90% sure he’d lost his phone, but that remaining 10% thought something serious had happened. 

7am Saturday

Hmm that’s weird he hasn’t texted me yet. He said he was going to sleep early, so not replying last night is feasible. But he always sends good morning texts.

Let me check Whatsapp.

Oh, he hasn’t been online there since last night 6:20pm. Guess he did crash early. Continue reading

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

Alan is still in the picture.

It may have sounded from my last post that I’d fired all the men in my life. Not true.

While I’m not overwhelmingly excited about anything at the moment, those I’m still engaging with do provide some pleasure. And some is better than none, right?

I haven’t seen Leo since the date I wrote about. Partly because of bad timing on both our parts, but also because he doesn’t take priority. He’s lovely, and patient. I don’t want to take advantage of that. But I saw other lovers the last week I was free. The next week I’m free I’m seeing Alan one night, girlfriends the next, Clark the night after, and then I’m away on business, returning the day I get my child again for the week.

It’s easy to not stress about dating when I have a few nights alone which I welcome, a busy social calendar with friends and family, a couple of casual lovers, and a couple of romantic men willing to take whatever spare time I have. Right now I need alone time more than another date. Continue reading

There’s something going around.

Several years ago, when I was still married, my Mom told me she was concerned I didn’t have a close-knit group of women in my life whom I could count on to be there for me no matter what.

Of course I argued with her, saying I had a couple of close friends who fell into that category.

But of course, there was real truth to her observation. One of my goals since becoming single was to build back up the friend relationships I had let go during my marriage, and build new connections as well. Freed from the restrictions of a judgey spouse who didn’t want to “take new friend applications” (yes, he said that), I could meet new people I like and invite them for dinner. I could spend quality time with existing friends and deepen or connection.

I’m rather proud of myself for doing just that.  Continue reading

What I think about when waiting for a lover.

On my stereo: Little Fluffy Clouds by The Orb. A trippy song I used to listen to in college. Next is Cat Power’s version of Dark End of the Street. It’s an odd mix on my phone tonight.

I’m waiting for Lewis. He was supposed to be here now but texted to say he’d be a half an hour late; his work event keeping him longer than he thought.

Sitting at my kitchen island, I’m drinking Chardonnay while unsuccessfully trying to decimate the fruit fly population. The little fuckers must have an hour long incubation period.

It’s late but the work emails are still trickling in; they never stop. Continue reading