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

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. 

dating like teenagers

What are we, 16?

There was the epic makeout session that felt like the long-ago days of being in the basement, listening for parents feet on the stairs so as not to get caught with tongues down throats and hands down pants. The early days of dating can be so much fun.

There is the feeling of not being able to get enough of someone.

I’m not relationship dumb like I was at 16, but it doesn’t mean I’m not acting like a teen at times. Continue reading

He opened his eyes

He opened his eyes.

After a weekend with our respective children, Jack and I had a date. It’s a blossoming early relationship.

Midway through the day, we connected to finalize plans. He told me he was sorry but he wasn’t going to see me as early as expected: he had to go to the hospital to visit his parent. It was going to be 9 pm before he would arrive.

I was disappointed but obviously understood a critically ill parent took precedence, especially given he hadn’t been able to visit for a few days due to his move. I asked him what he wanted to do and he said he wanted to go for a late bite to eat, have a drink, and go back to my place. Deal. Continue reading

International Day Against Homophobia and Transphobia

I rarely get political here, but today I make an exception, since it’s the international day against homophobia and transphobia. That this is still rampant in otherwise “evolved” societies makes me very angry.

It’s easy to fear and hate from behind the comfort of our phone screens, and easy to misunderstand when we have no personal experience with the issues. But that’s no excuse for hatred, ignorance, and bigotry. Ask questions. Educate yourself. Practice empathy.

As a white cisgender woman, I have incredible privilege. I don’t know what it’s like to face discrimination daily. To know my body doesn’t reflect the gender I feel inside. To worry about being killed for who I have sex with or love.

But it doesn’t mean I won’t support my friends and colleagues and all the people out there I don’t know who face this every day.

Ann Continue reading

From theory to practice with Leo.

Leo and I booked a date after our big talk. A full-on dinner and activity weekend date. I was cautiously optimistic.

It was going to be a beautiful day so at the last minute we modified our plans. He came to my house just after lunch and we planned to do a day trip to a nearby wine region, visit some of the quaint towns in the area, and have dinner. If anything was going to be an issue, it wasn’t going to be our itinerary!

Continue reading

I’m not smitten.

I’m back from my beach vacation with Leo. Despite it being a relaxing time, my brain constantly buzzed. It’s still buzzing, cycling through thoughts of men, needs, past relationships, and what it is I really want.

I planned to write yesterday but instead stayed in bed most of the day catching up on social media and work emails. I spoke to my Mom for an hour and gave her the lowdown. She gave me lots to think about, as always, commiserating on the downside of our shared analytical nature.

Why do I have anything for my brain to be buzzy about? I’m not smitten with Leo. Continue reading

Wondering is worse.

I blocked Tony last night.

Originally I wasn’t going to. He’d ¬†promised to be in touch shortly after our last conversation “next week I will come see you; I will figure it out”. I knew it was unlikely he’d be in touch exactly when he said, but I wanted the opportunity to explain I couldn’t be his friend because despite everything, I’m still in love with him.

But he didn’t call. It’s almost two weeks later. I’ve learned he experiences time differently than I; my days tend to be packed full of life and therefore two weeks seems like forever. He isn’t on any jobs right now and his days just blend one into another. I often have to look at my calendar to remind myself not as much time has passed as I think.

I knew he would get in touch at some point and expected it would be this week. Continue reading

The reason Tony and I can’t be friends.

If you haven’t read about the recent “developments” with Tony, you can start with this post.

I know I’ve said it many times: this blog is extraordinarily helpful for sorting out my crap. I was in a good place with Tony, because I’d blocked him for weeks, successfully. I missed him but it was abstract, and I didn’t feel a pull to reach out or reconnect. When I unblocked him, I experimented with what it was like to be completely reactive – I let him call or text.

It was very minimal contact. It was platonic.

It was a fucking slippery slope.  Continue reading

The reason I reset my Tony counter.

I probably don’t need to explain too much how seeing that picture on Instagram made me feel. There was a lot going on in my head. I’d also been drinking and not that I ever use it as an excuse, but it absolutely reduced my impulse control.

I hadn’t contacted Tony about anything for a week after our last night together, nor had he reached out to me. We hadn’t texted, hadn’t even “liked” anything on Instagram (he’s on Twitter but neither of us are active there).

But in my hurt and anger, I did something which is now uncharacteristic – I sent a text in anger, something along the lines of:

“Wow, from my bed to “love birds” within a week? Nice. Makes me wonder whether I’ve been played the fool.” Continue reading