First date

A near-miss first date with Harper.

I was admittedly a little concerned I hadn’t heard back from Harper. I get some people tend to reduce their communication pace after a date is booked, but to not reply to a text at all? While I told myself everything was fine, the cynical I’ve-had-the-worst-luck part of me was stomping her foot deep down.

I didn’t want to text again on the burner app, since if it didn’t work the first time there was no guarantee it would work the second.

So I went back to Tinder.

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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

Filling my time.

The first line I wrote for this post was “I’m much better than I used to be at not wasting my time with men.”

I stared at it. Erased it twice.

As much as its true that I don’t waste my time with bullshit online anymore – if I know a man doesn’t want what I want, I don’t bother – I could argue I wasted a lot of time with Tony. Continue reading

Thinking about Bruce.

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It’s become clear Bruce isn’t ready for the practical realities of dating. He thought he was. He’d taken almost two years before he took the online dating plunge: he said he wasn’t ready before that. I believe him. At his core, I think he’s a good man.

He’s not a Jack, telling women he pursues what they want to hear. He’s no Tony, emotionally incapable of truly leaving his marriage.

He’s Bruce.

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The kind of man Bruce is.

So yeah, I made a mistake and left a voicemail for Bruce on his ex-wife’s machine. I learned a lot about their marriage and separation. I also learned a lot about the kind of man he is. I have always said I don’t really know a man until I see him angry, and under stress, with his friends and how he treats his mother.

I got a few of those knocked off the list pretty early.

How you handle things when you’re angry with someone is very telling. Bruce and I had two conversations about “the incident”. His ex had stormed over the first night, and continued the barrage the next morning when they saw each other during the school drop off. He was really shaken up about the whole thing. 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

Claude.

He is #9 on my list. The only man who has had sex with me in three of my four decades – at 18, 24, and (spoiler alert!) 43. We missed my 30s due to marriage. My first and only serious foreign crush – one which went from desire to implementation after a few years of hoping.

We met in France the summer I was 15, on the cusp of 16. My father and step-mother had signed us all up for month-long language classes in a beautiful university town. We stayed in campus housing. In the classic style of my father, my class was supposed to be for age 18 and over, but he signed me up anyway. They never checked.  Continue reading

We spoke. It’s over.

After almost 36 hours of complete silence, Jack finally texted me back. I’d sent a text saying “good morning, when can we talk today?” and he replied with “We can speak around 4 or after 10 tonight. Have a great day.”

I didn’t reply with what I wanted to say (“Have a great day? Seriously?”) but simply said, “4 it is”.

It was difficult to focus at work and I resented him for deliberately (yes, it was) leaving me hurt and anxious.

And when I picked up the phone, this is what he said:

“Ann, I’m not over my last girlfriend.  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