Referring to two of the above-mentioned men, a friend commented yesterday that I “have a lot of serious contenders these days”. I snort-laughed and replied I wasn’t so sure.
Tony hasn’t yet moved out – he’s actively looking for an apartment but I am rather cynical when it comes to him, for very good reasons. Last weekend he mentioned he, his soon-to-be-ex (STBX), and their son had plans to go skiing together, and I was immediately reminded of the first winter we dated and that they did it every weekend.
It doesn’t mean they aren’t splitting up and it doesn’t mean they are in limbo. Intellectually I know all it means is they are still co-parenting a young child. Some parents still do stuff together during and after a split – I didn’t, but my close friend Maria did, and still does.
Shockingly, the date Bruce and I planned…happened. Having low expectations is sometimes a wonderful thing. And even though we met, I didn’t expect anything to continue afterward.
I’ve been surprised twice now.
We set a weekday night to meet when he was working in the city and I didn’t have Liam. Given past experience, I fully expected something to happen with his work schedule or children. In the past, sometimes he wouldn’t proactively tell me he needed to cancel – I would check in and he’d tell me he was already on his way home, having to now drive a colleague or some other thing.
A brief exchange with a fellow blogger got me thinking about this topic. It’s not about him in particular, but it was the final piece that mentally fell into place for me. Why do we have to be so afraid of articulating our interests and experiences that fall outside of what the world perceives to be mainstream?
I’d long forgotten about being “Freshly Pressed”, that coveted WordPress publicity that says to the blogging world you are not just a good writer, but you say something worth reading.
I remember when I first started blogging I would read those who were Freshly Pressed and notice with longing others who had that badge on their pages. I told myself I wasn’t a writer and would never achieve such a blessing from the blogging powers that be. It didn’t stop me from wanting it, however. It’s taken me a long time to get more comfortable with doing something knowing I won’t be the best at it. Continue reading →
I do feel quieter, mentally. It’s all relative, I suppose. I still wake up with thoughts of lost friendship and lost potential, but it’s the exception, not the rule. I don’t miss online dating. I’d left one app on my phone called Inner Circle – it’s new-ish and proved to be completely useless: only two men in my city on the app over the age of 38, my height or more, with a college education and children. TWO.
If I removed the “children” requirement there were maybe twenty.
A 28 year-old tall handsome professional reached out to me. He said he loved older women and I seemed to be exactly his type. He was interesting and articulate and figured I had nothing to lose by responding. We texted back and forth for a week. He flaked on a date we’d booked for tonight and I didn’t care one bit. Continue reading →
We arrived at my place, got inside, I took off my coat, and Gregory was on me instantly. Gone were the perfect kisses I liked. They were replaced by full tongue-down-my-throat action. I don’t know I can call them kisses, I don’t know what the hell they are. I usually end up not knowing exactly what to do.
Those kisses are gross, guys. I feel skewered and unable to react. There’s a difference between a momentary thrust of a tongue down a throat… but keep it there? A whole lot of NOPE.
He didn’t want wine, he only wanted me. We stood in the same place for a while – his hands all over me, his tongue down my throat – until we agreed to go upstairs. Once again, we didn’t spend any time on my couch.
After I’d heard from him that night, Gregory and I texted back and forth a bit. He was hosting clients for most of the day, including dinner. He said it was exhausting. He was complimentary about my talents when I shared a work-related issue. I told him I was off to bed (I was getting a cold and knew I needed to sleep) and asked him if the next night still worked to get together. He said it did.
The next day arrived. I didn’t text him at all during the day – and at 6:30 he texted saying he hoped I’d had a good day. I replied a half an hour later when I saw his text, and then asked if 9:15 pm would work for him to come over.
The morning after my first date with Gregory, I was excited. It was a nice change to have had such a great intellectual and physical connection, with a man who seemed to be on the ball and in contrast to some of my recent experiences, well-balanced. Lots of commonalities to explore.
Even my Mom hadn’t seen any red flags in her internet searches.
I told myself to chill out and take Gregory as he comes. Given what I had been experienced with John, I was keenly aware there is reasonable excitement at potential, versus the crazy-town reaction of expecting everything is going to work out. I was determined to not give any impression I was like John. Because I’m not. I had no idea what potential we actually had.
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.
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 →