I like wine and cheese. Along with kissing, they provide some of my life’s greatest pleasure.
I guess I served Alan some great cheese (not uncommon) because he’s used it as the rationale to reach out to me three times since I broke it off. Well, he used other methods as well to try to see me again, the most memorable being a naked mirror selfie of himself with a hard-on, wearing a Trump mask.
Well, he lasted 5 days. I knew it was unlikely he would suddenly change his behavior, but I did have hope there would continue to be progress. After all, he said our date last week that he wanted to see more of me, and that he’d try to be more communicative. But yet, another dating fail.
But really, what kind of person says that, and hears someone say “look I get that you’re busy but all I’m asking for right now is that you don’t ignore my texts“, and just 5 days later does exactly that?
Knowing he was likely in meetings all day, I didn’t bother trying to make plans with Kyle in advance. Despite a bad track record, we’d confirmed the previous day and we agreed to sort out the specifics the day of.
He knew I was going to see my personal trainer after work and I’d be free at 6pm. We’d agreed to meet in our neighbourhood (we live about 10 minutes apart) and to the time, so other than the place, there wasn’t much to confirm. Therefore I waited until I was leaving the gym to text, and we had the following exchange: Continue reading →
There’s been enough drama with Leo that I haven’t written about my injury and recovery lately.
The combination of a broken bone and extensive ligament damage means it’s been a long haul. Over two months in a non weight-bearing cast, then a month in a walking boot. I have a plate and several screws in my leg and I have a beautiful 5″ scar on the outside of my ankle.
I still walk with pain and with a limp, and because of that limp I have pain in my tailbone, which fucking sucks. My ankle and foot remain swollen and it could be the same for many more months. I’ve just been diagnosed with needing two months of physiotherapy, 3-5 times a week. How I’m going to find time for that I have no idea. Continue reading →
I hated how much the whole thing with Tony consumed my thoughts. Wondering what happened, how she found out, what their decision was (if any), and what was next.
I knew I may never get an answer. I knew the bulk of my interest was intellectual curiosity. Maybe most importantly, I knew that no contact with him was best for me. I wasn’t tortured at the thought of not talking to him regularly.
I was more upset with myself, at the time and emotional effort I’ve spent the last month or two seeing whether I could meet his need for us to remain friends. It wasn’t going to work, I’ve known it for a long time, but I tried anyway. Continue reading →
Tony and I have had two short conversations about his again-wife finding out about us (side note: yes, she’s his wife, again. I’m honestly afraid if I just call her his “wife” I’m going to get trolled like crazy, and the truth is they were separated when I met him).
In the first discussion, he told me she’d found out about Jamaica. I was confused because it seemed an odd “discovery” at this time, 14 months ago after we went. I asked how it was possible that us seeing each other after the sports game could possibly have led to that.
He was vague. He said “Ann, I don’t want to relive it again right now. There was a lot of screaming and crying.” Continue reading →
I haven’t been writing much about Tony these last many weeks, mostly because there isn’t much to say. I blocked him for a while to help myself break old patterns, then when I unblocked him he started calling.
I answered the phone when he called, and found our conversations frustrating – not because of anything he did wrong. I couldn’t find a happy medium where I could be his friend in a way meaningful to me. If he told me anything about the crap in his marriage, I would get (internally) frustrated because I thought he should be trying. Conversely, if he said something was going well, it hurt.
And bottom line is, despite all of his failings, he’s doing stuff with his again-wife and child that I wanted the opportunity to do. Continue reading →
I am writing this post fresh. Freshly angry. Apologies in advance for a lack of editing and shitty structure.
You’ll surely recall he (Tony) fucked me on Christmas eve, in the midst of family-oriented errands. He was fully ensconced in family time for Christmas and days afterwards. So naturally, he didn’t reach out. I am not part of that part of his life.
Which honestly down to my core was just fine – because it helped me put more nails in the coffin of what was left of our relationship.
Once my home computer’s ability to connect to the internet again I will reset my Tony timer. I could make an intellectual argument about intent and therefore it shouldn’t count blah blah, but why bother.
I was texting with Hy and mentioned ruminating about asking him to block me on Instagram – his account and Mary’s, if he could.
She said “just text him RIGHT NOW and ask”. Knowing he’d promised I would be unblocked, but that she could see his phone, I wanted to send a very neutral message. I simply said “I need a favor; can you let me know when you have a free minute. I will be available after 6pm.” I was heading to a session with my personal trainer and I didn’t want to talk myself back out of it.
I’m not really going to stop using social media or texting, but the aftermath of the “Tony picture” incident makes me think I should make some changes.
Because we are all friends here, I will admit to looking at a few people’s Instagram feeds every day. There is Kyle (yes, still) – who I texted a while ago after (surprise!) another near-miss date, telling him I was going to go silent for a while and perhaps reach out near the December holidays. Kyle and I still follow each other on Instagram; he posts very rarely and it’s usually non-threatening (sports, a trip with his Mom, his son).
I’ve gotten better about looking at the IG “following” feed and seeing who’s stuff he’s liked or who he’s following. It’s goddamned pointless and gets me nothing except curiosity at best and hurt at worst. Continue reading →