Virtual Bandaid

I still hurt. I still don’t understand why. I am still startled and off balance over the whole thing. I am still wounded deeply. I still wish he would call, or write, or reappear. That we could talk. That this was all a bad mistake that we could go about fixing.

I’m tired. I will be sad for a while. Very sad. I don’t know how long. Probably longer than you think I should be. I will cry when no one’s looking.

BUT…

I’m done bleeding all over the internet. I have unlimited space and permission to do it, but it’s stopping now. This is me slapping a bandaid on it and pretending I can move on. I will fake it til I make it as that is the only option left.

I pulled him off of my IM list so I can no longer follow when he logs on and off. And, as badly as this hurt today, I deleted his contact info from my phone. I can no longer call or text or drive us both insane. If he wants me, he will have to take a step. I am here if he does, and I’m gone if he doesn’t.

As I grow stronger and the silence continues, I will remove him from other places. Until I can go for a day or two or even three without wondering, without looking, without seeking him out somehow. I will force myself to come around.

The stupid Tums are still on the counter though. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe.

Self Indulgence

I didn’t change the sheets last night after all. Instead I touched the empty space next to me and admitted I had not been ready to let go of that yet. I admonished myself for a while, then I slept. Mercifully, I did not dream. That I couldn’t have handled.

This morning I opened my eyes and bcame determined that today would be better. Once I got in the shower, I remembered him telling me how he was not all men. How he was going to prove to me that some men are different. And I realized he had failed. He had done exactly what men before him have done. Exactly what I actually trusted him not to do. I tried to get angry over it, but I couldn’t. So I tried not to cry instead. Also, I couldn’t.

Then it happened. I started finding the things he left behind. I must have looked at the spot a thousand times last night, but this morning I saw a bottle of his just laying there in that spot in my bedroom. There was no doubt, it was his. I picked it up to throw it out and got as far as the kitchen, but I couldn’t. So I set it on the counter and stared. A bottle of Tums. This is ridiculous. But there it sits.

I got down to my car and realized he was the last one to drive it. Everything was set differently. I had to take time to put it back. I tried not to cry. I saw the momento he had taken from the restaurant where we had brunch Sunday, sitting in my car. Not with him now, but with me. I remembered how he had talked to my friends while I was in the restroom and told them how he could really see himself with me. I wondered why that wasn’t worth at least a shot. A chance that this could be different, for both of us.

And yet the fear has made it exactly the same as so many things that came before it. Another reason to be broken. Another reason to hurt. And I am so profoundly sad because I truly believed this would not come to this. I haven’t been willing to believe like this in literally years. And if something in this doesn’t give it will be so many more before I do again. My friends insist this will come around, because there was so much there for both of us. I tell them I can’t afford to hope anymore. And yet I think we all know a tiny corner of my heart is still lit with exactly that.

I remember the crushed look on his face when he told me he never wanted me to have another night like I did two nights ago. When I fell asleep crying in his arms. What he never knew is that that night was so much better than last night. Where I ached and hurt and cried and there was no one to talk to or hold me. When I knew that he would not be there to do it again. Last night was infintely worse, and I wonder now if he’ll ever know that. If we can ever fix it.

This morning I remembered all the half formed plans I already had for us. Concerts, and conferences, and roller coasters. How I had already looked at my calendar to see when in the coming months I could go there to see him. How I had already thought out how we could make some events affordable for him to come and see me. How I was mapping things out carefully in my head to make it work, even though it broke all of my rules too. Even though.

But right now he is shutting me out. And there is nothing I can do. I’m helpless. And all I can think is that despite all hope and belief and promises, right now he is exactly like so many who came before. And I’m desperate for him to prove me wrong.

I could have

I could have fallen in love with him. Sometime in the middle of the day on Saturday, I knew that was true. I pushed it off into a pile of things I couldn’t deal with right away, but it was there. Right on the top. An undeniable fact.

I could have fallen in love with him. He was a great kisser. He could cook too. My friends ended up meeting him and loved him. Everyone voted yes. He’s a keeper. He is great for me. I knew all the reasons why I shouldn’t listen. But all those reasons, they’ve gotten me nowhere in life. I’m ready for changes on a huge scale. Ready for risks. Ready for happiness.

I could have fallen in love with him. I was already three quarters of the way there. It was terrifying and beautiful. Are there things wrong with both of us? For sure. Lots even. I am tired and bitter. He is dark. We are both a little broken. But somehow that doesn’t mean we can’t both find happiness, right?

I could have fallen in love with him. But the truth is, now I’ll never have the chance. This One Date Wonder asked him to believe and he said no. So there is no nickname. There are no plans. There will be no future entries. He left early today and he won’t come back. And in the middle of that moment, the best I could do was to tell him not to leave anything behind. You see, I can’t afford to find his shirt or his sock or his toothbrush and have that particular breakdown. In fact, in a few hours when I stop weeping, I will have to change the sheets so I can’t smell him when I’m curling up alone, again. And again. And again.

I could have fallen in love with him. But instead I have another reason never to hope again. Another reason not to believe. Another life I’ll never have. Just another dead end and another chink in the armor I’ve never worn. There is another brick in my wall that no one will get through. My life has become just a series of reasons to believe that it does not actually get better than this. And, as it turns out, it doesn’t matter if I believe or not. Life really is just that hopeless. That’s a lesson I really wish I hadn’t learned.

So I could have fallen in love with him. But, as it turns out, I won’t.

Indecision

I am at an impasse. See, the beauty of this blog is that no one knows who I am. So I can rant about dating disasters or wax poetic about my latest crush. Freely even, because they’ll never know. So what then happens if I meet someone as an indirect result of it? I mean, you know, someone who reads the blog?

See, if I go on about developing a school girl crush on him, he’ll know. And if I get the slightest bit optimistic, he’ll see me breaking all my rules. And if I end up being kind of excited about a new possibility, he’ll know I’m not as guarded as I seem.

It breaks all the rules in more ways than one. I have never attempted to use the qualifier “too” so often when describing one person. Too young, too far away, too impossible… and yet. Last night for the first time in I can’t even remember how long (except I can and the truth is even worse) I stayed up way too late talking on the phone just hoping not to hang up yet. And when we finally did, I may have seen him in my dreams.

So he asked what I would call him here and I said I didn’t know. I still don’t. Like I said, I’m at an impasse.

Home again

I’m home and exhausted. But I wanted to at least say that I had an amazing time. QTMama and I had a total blast and I’ll tell you all about it soon. Just as soon as I get some more sleep, that is.

Karma

Karma is a nasty little mistress, isn’t she? I fear she has come after me and nipped me soundly in the behind this time. And there is just no way for me to get out of it. I am now going to pay full price for my laugh at the Tragic Sundae. Oh yes, yes I am.

Here’s the story. I like geek guys. I like them a lot. I don’t care what you think of me, I think they are instantly hotter and they win points with me. Now I do of course have limits. We must be looking at the reasonable geeks here. But still, geek guys do it for me.

So when this relatively sane looking geek guy started emailing with me, I was kind of interested. He’s 28, lives nearby, and is well spoken. He got quickly to the business of exchanging phone numbers, then asking me out. He took the proper initiative. And he has a very lovely very deep voice. He’s even tall. If this guy is even reasonably attractive, I’m thinking he is my type and then some. So when he called me last night, we made a coffee date for tonight right at the beginning of the conversation. Then we proceeded to chat for close to 2 hours.

And it was around the hour and a half mark that he revealed he’s a virgin. That’s right, gentle readers. I have accidentally made a coffee date with a 28 year old virgin. Karma is kind of a bitch.

Cradle Robber

Time to lighten up.

The last email I got on an online dating site? Was from a 19 year old. I am 30. What was he thinking? How could I seriously date a guy who couldn’t go out for a drink with me?

My guess is he was angling for beer. But whatever.

Without a Fight

Now I see it again…. the consequences of two divorces and 30 years of failed relationships. What happens when you don’t have a single good example to look to in your life. The natural reaction of someone who has watched all of her friends settle into happiness while all she could ever settle into were some broken dreams.

It’s not that my life is so bleak. It’s not that I’m so unhappy now. I mean, I’m aware of what’s missing, but I’m grateful for what I’ve started to build too. I have finally reached a place where I feel whole again. Where I feel ready to find someone else to build with too.

And yet. The bottom line. The one consequence I can never seem to outrun, is this: When someone says they would like something long term and committed? I panic. I start looking for reasons why I should run. I race for the exit and get my hand on the door before I can even slow myself back down again.

What is wrong with me? If I am finally face to face with what I want, why do I do this? I once had a friend chastise me for planning a breakup before I even had something to properly break up. We were talking about Mr. Big in fact, and I was telling her all of the reasons why I should never put stock in a relationship with him. (A notion that seems increasingly intelligent, by the way.) Why it would never be, and how I would have to leave in the end. And she interrupted me and told me to stop planning my break up before the relationship even started. To stop looking for the exit.

I don’t think it’s necessarily about the combination of me and the man in this situation. I think it’s about all me. I think it’s the reason I continue to meet men who don’t want to commit. Not because I’m repellent, but because subconsciously I am making a decision of some sort. I want to be committed, but something in me is still so very scared.

This is all navel-gazing for me at the moment. There is no man offering me commitment. But it’s something I have been realizing for a while and that was brought into sharp relief by that brush with Mr. Big this week. This morning I am just trying to stomp down the irrational panic. The fear of another breakup that looms before I even have a chance to just be happy for a bit. The tiny voice in my head that can sometimes be such a roar.

One of my new favorite artists is Edie Carey. This is from her album Another Kind of Fire and you should totally check her out. And while you’re at it, check out the lyrics below. I feel like maybe she has been in my head for a while. It’s eerie.

WITHOUT A FIGHT:
How do you do it?
I don’t get it
How you get so angry
And then just forget it
How forgiveness comes so easy to you
Maybe I’m just crazy
How I get so shaky
But what if happy just means lazy?
What if leaving is the only thing
I know how to do?

When will I learn
It doesn’t have to burn to feel good again?
I wanna know how to love you right
Without a fight

So I flirt with freedom
Think “maybe I don’t need him”
I’ve been saving up my reasons
Why I’m gonna break this little silver thread
Watch me go off the deep end
Smash the dishes again
Throw the suitcase on the bed
I’m just a hurricane of appetite
And empty threats

When will I learn
It doesn’t have to burn to feel good again?
I wanna know how to love you right
Without a fight

But the farthest I can get
Is one hand on the door

It looks so much like passion
And it hurts sweet like love
I think I’m finally understood, finally…

Without a fight, without a fight

-Edie Carey

Check it out!

Isabella of Risque Business is one of my favorite dating bloggers out there. And now she has graciously let me appear as a guest on her blog! Her latest entry “Internet Dating, Cue It or Screw It?” is an interview with none other than me, your favorite One Date Wonder!

Please go check it out and be sure to read the rest of Isabella’s blog while you’re there.

http://www.mainetoday.com/blogs/sex/

At a loss

You know, funny thing about the undead. They sort of never…. die. Hence the name, undead, of course. Of course if you text message them to say you miss talking to them, that is likely to encourage their undead tendencies, I’ll admit. But still, they don’t have to answer, you know?

What does this mean? It means that even a savvy One Date Wonder does not always operate with the greatest of intelligence. It means I was the one who sent that text message, and I sent it to the zombie guy. And it means he answered. Yesterday I went over to his place for lunch.

There was no hug hello at the door, there was really no touching at all. I was trying to decide he just wanted to be friends as I ate my pizza and pretended to care about whatever he put on tv. He told me all about how April is going to be romance free for him. No dating, no sex, no romantic thoughts at all until May. Effective immediately. I finished my pizza and put down my plate. Then he kissed me.

It was not a friendly kiss. It was hands in my hair, knee-melting, full on kissing. It definitely required romantic thoughts of some variety. He told me he was breaking his rule. We kissed some more. He didn’t seem to mind so much.

Before I left he decided he’d still take his April break. I don’t know what that means or what I should do. In fact, I’m completely at a loss.