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

Train delay due to flirtation at track level.

Shortly after my split, I got a tattoo to remind me to live a life of no regrets. It’s highly visible and I’ve used it at times to help make that “oh just go for it” decision. My decisions are all mine now; I don’t want to look back years from now and think “if only…”, especially when it comes to a pickup.

You know those moments where you see someone who sends electric shocks through your body, yet you let them pass by without a word spoken? I remember every time it happened to me, and decided I’d do my best to never let it happen again. I don’t want to have “missed connections” anymore. Continue reading

Sorry Ann, I need to get my shit together.

Bruce’s eventual response to my text suggesting he stay overnight to avoid having to drive back and forth tonight:

Ann

I don’t know how to say this … so I’m just gonna say it 

I can’t see anyone right now 

I’m too stressed 

I need to get my life together before I add people to it.

I am depressed … anxious… don’t feel like being around anyone right now. 

Sorry Ann

I need to get my shit together

Sigh. Continue reading

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 put my own oxygen mask on first.

This topic has been rumbling around in my back of my head for a few years, but I didn’t know how to articulate it until now.

How do I prioritize my life? What is my life made up of? Friends, family, my child, work, and my own needs, including dating/sex.

I’ve said many times that since my split, rebuilding relationships with friends and family has been a priority. I can confidently say I’ve made it happen, and of this, I’m very proud. Continue reading

Bruce under stress.

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Whether I thought she was being reasonable was irrelevant. It was also not the time for me to give Bruce a hard time about not looking harder for his phone. It was my time to apologize and to listen.

And talk, Bruce did.

He told me more about the breakdown of their marriage. How he left after years of asking for intimacy. They didn’t have sex the last two years. They didn’t talk about anything other than her work and the kids. He said all she did in the evenings was sit on the couch and drink wine. He says he wants to be with someone who is as interested in him as he is in them, and who does more with their life.  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

When attraction is timeless.

Claude rang the buzzer many flights down in our apartment building with no lift. He’s fit but it still took him a while to get up all of the stairs. He looked exactly as I expected. Yes, twenty years older, but the man I remembered. We greeted with kisses on each cheek and a lingering hug.

He said hello to Liam, who was distracted with his iPad. Claude and I went upstairs: he’d brought snacks and drinks. He was a good caregiver the few days and evenings we spent together. As independent as I am, I like a man who has the right balance of respecting me as an equal and knowing when I need water or proactively ordering me a glass of cava.  Continue reading

Bruce… he of the magic (2)

I hit “publish” by mistake on the previous post. Whoops. I wasn’t going to create a cliffhanger, but those of you who follow me on Twitter already know what I was going to say.

Bruce and I decided to leave my couch and go for dinner. As he moved to stand up I said “ummm can I kiss you before we go?” and he immediately said “yes”, shaking his head to himself as if to say “Bruce you are such a dummy” as he leaned in to kiss me. At least, that’s what I’m hoping the reaction was.

It was as good as the first kiss on our first date. Perhaps better, because it lasted way longer. Continue reading