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.

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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

John, the other poet.

I’m not too sure what to do with John. If I’d been less busy the past 10 days, I could have written many posts about him already. There’s potential – but for what exactly, I haven’t figured out. Writing about it will help crystallize my thoughts.

Based on his profile, I wasn’t expecting much from our first date. We had a 98% match on OK Cupid, which was something. His opening message was solid and he had some very deep questions to ask me (“are you ready for love?”) which were surprising and I presumed demonstrated depth of character. Continue reading

My Mom, Glen Campbell, and Vietnam.

“For you, who is gentle on my mind, but too hot to handle at times. Please never change, because you are beautiful. Good luck and safe trip, and remember all of our good times. Love, Rick. 7/31/69, Hawaii.

P.S. Remember the steaks and ice cream, because they make you sweet (smile).”

Did you notice the date? It’s not a typo: 1969. Those words, written in red looping cursive script, were for my mother. They are on the back of a vinyl record which accompanied her back to the mainland from Hawaii, Glen Campbell’s “Gentle on My Mind”. She got rid of the ABBA and the classical albums long ago, but a precious few remained packed away until her recent move.  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

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

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

Magic under the summer stars. 

Claude and I were together several times over the course of a few days. We spent one full day and four evenings together. It was frustratingly comfortable and easy to be with him. I wished often there could be a way for us to practically explore a relationship together, but it is not to be.

Liam is young, and jet lag took its toll the first couple of days. He’s also a very particular eater and was not about to try the delights of Barcelona. While I already liked Claude, seeing him in “Dad mode” made me like him even more. He was patient with Liam and handled him very well. I had a peek into what he was like as a Dad and couldn’t help think how nice it would be to be around that more.  Continue reading

Don’t be a hooded Kermit.

Bruce and I have been in steady contact since our first date. He sends good morning and good night texts, and has checked in a few times throughout each day.

He left for a short vacation with his children and some friends, and had very limited cellular service. But he still tried to call me his first night there and because my phone was on silent I missed his call. He then discovered he had data at the cabin so messaged me on WhatsApp. 

One night mid text conversation he video called me. I was in bed with no makeup on and my dark “nerdy girl” glasses. I answered anyway. 

I liked that he seemed to be thinking of me throughout each day. He would sign off with “goodnight beautiful” or “sweet dreams sexy”. 

There was nothing wrong.

He wasn’t making crazy declarations of love or devotion like HWSNBN. He wasn’t overly expressive about our connection or me or anything that would give me reason to think he’s enamoured with having someone, versus enamoured with me. In love with love, as they say.

On our last date he asked me out for the night he came back.

So what is wrong?

Nothing.

But it’s been difficult for me to just be excited and happy about it. My brain, as much as I’m trying to shut it down, cycles through a number of doubts:

Bruce is a tall, athletic man. He can’t possibly be attracted to my curves so as soon as he sees me naked it’s going to be all over. – Yes, I think this. I’m pretty sure is because at some level I wonder if my physicality was what turned Jack off. He had always dated dark haired small women. So yeah, this thought is unusual for me but it’s there in the background. And yes I my pictures are in my profile and he’s seen me up close. The man isn’t blind, but still. 

If I’m his first, first date he surely just is enjoying the attention and he doesn’t really like me for me. He can’t possibly be that into me if I’m the first woman he’s met online. – This is not based on anything he has said or done (or not done), it’s simply a concern based on the situation. It’s too close to comfort to what happened with Jack (I was the first woman he met online). 

Maybe he’s actually a player and he’s lying about his situation. He just wants to fuck me and then he will be gone. – Again I have no actual reason to think this is the case. Just general doubt. I like that he calls me “sexy” and “beautiful” but as much as I appreciate a man who is cool with terms of endearment, I also question whether it’s too early for such things. So naturally then I wonder if I’m being played.

Something is going to go wrong that’s beyond my control. I’m going to like him and find out he’s hiding something or he’s going to be a player or stop texting or something. – Yeah. I know why I’m worried, it has nothing to do with him. I think I’m so hyper aware that trusting and allowing myself to be emotionally vulnerable means on occasion I’m going to get fucked over. It happened with Jack and it’s been a while since I’ve been hurt like that. 

I don’t want the doubts whispered in my hooded Kermit brain. I want to be regular Kermit. Because the doubts breed anxiety which trigger behavior which will be contrary to getting what I want. No, I don’t need to ask Bruce endless questions about his relationship with his ex or if he’s talking to others on POF or did he really not meet any other women in the last two years.

I’m going to do my damnest to enjoy our date and see how it goes and focus on whether I think he’s right for me. The more I try to protect myself from hurt, the more I protect myself from love. 

And I really want the right love in my life. 

the universe sometimes provides what you need

I may be dropped, but I bounce.

So, Jack broke up with me. It’s been a pretty rare occurrence in the past four years, which I suppose makes me lucky. Not that I haven’t been heartbroken, but I usually do the ending it.

I have mixed feelings about it. On the one hand, I hadn’t fallen in love, and I appreciated Jack’s honesty and reasonably early recognition that he wasn’t emotionally ready for any form of relationship. On the other hand, I really liked Jack and saw potential with him, and am frustrated with how things played out.

Of course, I do wonder if he will come to a later conclusion that I also wasn’t the right person for him. I still don’t know if readiness can be forced, or overlooked, for the right person. Continue reading