All the feels

So I have taken a (good) while to write this post, considering this happened in June / July. I’m not sure why I took my sweet old time as I am no longer confused, or have big feelings, but it has given me a lot of food for thought.

You might remember the Poker Player. The one that postponed his flight for me and who I thought was the one, albeit for a little while. After six months of very occasional keeping in touch, he was back in the country. How did I find out? Through Facebook. That’s right, he didn’t tell me. Imagine this. It was a Friday afternoon, I was bored at work and basically waiting for five o’clock to hit so I could jump in my friend’s car and get over the foodtruck festival that was happening in my favorite city. On top of that; it was a lovely summer day. As I was scrolling through my feed, I all of a sudden see a ‘Poker Player is attending…’ Yup, he apparantly was in the country and planning on being there. I stared at it, then panicked. I had come to work without make-up, and my hair was tied up because I hadn’t washed it. I couldn’t possibly face him like that. And face him I would. The festival was in a small park where if you knew anyone, you’d for sure run into them.

After a quick, heated consult with my co-workers, I decided to jump into the showers at work and at least do my hair. My boss was in a meeting, and I had twenty minutes left. I don’t think I have ever been so fast, but at least I felt better about myself. On the way, in the car, finally, my friend nearly pissed herself when I told her. But lo and behold; it only took fifteen minutes to spot him.

My stomach sank. As much as I had wanted to see him, I realized he had never told me, so he didn’t care enough for me to know. But there he was, as hot as I remembered him, and I hadn’t washed my hair for nothing. I pointed him out to my friend, and then casually strolled over there, did a ‘surprised’ double take, and asked him what the hell he was doing there. (I deserve an Oscar for that). I immediately got a big hug and three kisses. He introduced himself to my friend, drank half my glass of wine and seemed genuinely pleased to see me. We chatted for a few minutes before his friends dragged him away, and that was that. No see you laters, nothing. My friend was ecstatic. She absolutely adored him. She doesn’t adore anyone.

All through the night we’d occasionally run into each other, squeeze an arm, or just smile. My friend added fire to the fuel by telling me he seemed so pleased to see me. On my way home, I texted him that this country might be a little too small, but that it’d been nice to see him. He was slow to respond, but when he did he asked me to come to the bar with him and his friends. By that time I’d reached home. Too little too late.

Though the next day he asked if he could come by to ‘see my house’. I’m not an idiot, but the prospect of spending a couple of hours with him seemed great. Living in the moment and stuff. The past had taught me not to expect anything from him, so I knew that this was all I’d be getting. I could decline to protect myself, or I could just go with it and enjoy whatever time we’d have. I chose the latter.

He came, we talked about stuff big and small, mostly big as usual. He again started the talk on no relationships and what not. Old news, and I didn’t need warning. Once we started fooling around a bit, he suddenly got up and said he had a surprise. He took off his shirt, and said he’d been working hard at the gym. It was adorkable, and I had to hold back a smile. I just appreciated the muscle instead. We spent the next few hours in bed, which was highly enjoyable, as usual. With one hiccup. In the heat of the moment, a split second before he’s about to enter me, he again announces that he has a surprise. My mind went blank. What the hell kind of surprise could you have, at that moment in time? Well, this one: he had gotten tested and he was clean. I was a little flabbergasted, but told him I hadn’t tested in a while. He took the risk, with my approval. Truth be told, I haven’t had a man come inside me in a decade, because I’m not on the pill. I had forgotten what it felt like. And what a mess it is. When he left, at the end of the afternoon, I watched him walk down the street, and accepted that he’d be walking out of my life. I felt okay about it. The fact I went for drinks with a friend shortly after helped. He left for the US a few days later, the only contact we had was me texting him that my tests had gotten back okay.

Fast forward to six weeks later; he was back. I knew he’d  be as he has to fly through in order to go home. He always takes some time to visit family and friends. I didn’t want to text or call him, which he didn’t either and mildly irritated me. A few days after he returned, I saw him on a dating site. With a full copy of his passport. It was such an idiot thing to do that I messaged him to take it down. We spent the majority of the evening chatting. Things got pretty deep and personal, yet remained at the surface. Sounds weird, I know. He then said he would make time to come see me.

He texted me two days later, while I was at a work dinner. I told him I wouldn’t be home before ten. He said that was fine and we’d be in touch. Long story short; he showed up at eleven thirty, just as I was about to lock the door and call it a night. I knew this was a booty call, but I wasn’t so impressed with that. We chatted for a little while, I showed him the house I bought (of which he knew exactly where it is) and he told me about his trip. Naturally we had sex. It was so good I tried (and succeeded) not to cry. For some reason that orgasm came with a release of some other stuff. Part of me knew that this would be it. It might be the last time I’d ever see him, feel this way and knowing I’d had to let go. He didn’t notice, it was dark and we didn’t speak.

At one thirty in the morning, he looked at the clock and said he had to go. I asked if he was fucking kidding me. He came up with excuses about having to bring the car back and not being able to take out his contacts. I was pissed. To me, that was poor manners and disrespectful. We’d know each other too long to be pulling that shit off. He left regardless.

The next day I was still unamused, told him that and purposely let it escalate. For a friends with benefits arrangement, I need some kind of human, friendly, non-sexual contact to balance out the hooker feel. He wasn’t even telling me he’d be leaving the next day. That’s how much he cared. While he understood my points, he stressed that he’d been clear. He had, and that was not the issue at hand. We agreed to disagree. I told him that if he ever came back, it would to come from him, but that I was not going to run after him again. We said a temporary goodbye.

And that’s the story of the Poker Player. I learned a thing or two from him. (That at thirty two, I’m too old to rely on morning after pills, for one). Yes, he’s full of himself, but there’s something about him that draws me in. It’s easy to get lost with him. But, after all that, I have not felt sad. Closing it off like that was a good thing. He’s back next month, and I intend on keeping my word. I have no desire to get in touch, but we’ll see how that goes when he’s physically here. I don’t think he’ll do it either, I gave him shit after all. At this point in time, I am alright with that. A year ago, I had thought he might be the one, but I was wrong. And that’s okay.

If you made it to the end of this monstrous post; I applaud you!

Rejection

The more rejections I receive, the more they seem to get to me lately. That Tinder guy I’d been chatting to for a few nights and was supposed to have a dinner/drinks date with today? The one I thought could finally be a normal date that I deserved? Well, I’m home, writing this, so that didn’t happen. I received a text message in the middle of the night saying ‘I’m going to be a total dick but need to be honest. Going home with someone so it doesn’t feel right to see you.‘ Well fuck me. Got rejected even before meeting. I replied that indeed he was a dick and happy fucking. It’s not that I care if he fucks someone at all, but if you’ve got a ‘project’ that you’re working on, you shouldn’t be on Tinder, let alone making actual agreements to date. I get so tired of this whole dating thing that is leading nowhere.

The fact that his rejection came while I was having drinks with the Stud also didn’t help. I had been looking forward to today’s date, even if only it made me feel adequate that I could do what he did. I needed to have something to look forward to.

So yeah, the Stud came to see me. True to form, he was late. I went to pick him up from the train station and we went to my regular bar. It didn’t take long for him to bring up his lady-friend. He told me he had almost lost his friendship with the other chick he’d been seeing over it, as she couldn’t handle the change in their relationship. She’d been ready to call the whole thing off, he wouldn’t let her. I told him I didn’t feel like he was doing the same for me. I told him I was really not cool with the way he told me by text messaging. I told him that because he chose to do it that way it put things in a new light for me. He didn’t care enough. He was a little taken aback, and said he hadn’t even realized that it would have some sort of impact and how it came across. No shit Sherlock. He then said there was another friend he’d had to tell, that he’d been friends with benefits with before me. They haven’t slept with each other in a year, but when he told her she was heart broken. It had really surprised him and while he understood, he also felt that he had been clear with her the whole time. I told him I was somewhere in the middle. I wasn’t heart broken, but I did take a good look at myself and my reaction that night. And yes, it had also crossed my mind that I wasn’t good enough. And that I wasn’t sure if we were friends. And then, I mentally shut the door. I didn’t care anymore. If we were friends, fine. He doesn’t like me that way and there is nothing I can do to change it. He told me some stuff he’s never told anyone, I told him about my fuck up with the ex last week, and it was all good. We now have stuff on each other I guess.

They’ve already talked about exclusivity, he’s met her child, he’s shown me her photo, and I kind of laughed at myself. If anything, I had been leading myself on. What’s left to do is redefine our friendship. We didn’t really talk about it, and I kind of wished we did, because I still don’t know what kind of friend he thinks I am, but well. I am off to China next weekend and decided that if nothing happens with anyone by then, I am deleting all my profiles. Dating (and the inevitable rejections) is making me harsh and bitter and it isn’t pretty.

Oh well

After the aborted mission of last week with the ex, I came home feeling a bit down. The ‘what if I had gone through with it’ kept lurking in the back of my mind. At the same time, I knew I was happier with that feeling than the irreversible regret of doing I wasn’t one hundred percent happy about. We texted back and forth for a bit, and he mentioned he had a girl flying over from Switzerland the weekend, and another from England to come see him the weekend after that. Right. By then I was a little fed up with the whole thing. I asked him if he had given them fair warning he would not engage in oral sex, but that he needed his dick sucked in return. He kind of laughed it off and then threw in that he just didn’t feel that way with me. Say whut? Was there anything I needed to know? No, he just didn’t feel like it. The honest truth, I was upset with his lack of respect and let the whole thing escalate. I told him I felt it was better to cut all ties. He said he didn’t understand where that came from, but oh well. Oh well. If I needed more reassurance, there I had it. I wished him good luck with all his whores, and that was the end of that.

On the upside, the Tinder sex date  kept messaging me. He asked to see me again and then settled on a weekday last week, which he had to cancel because he didn’t feel well. I was bummed. And horny. He immediately wanted to set up a new date, and said he was afraid I found him too much trouble and call the whole thing off. Guess he picked up on the ‘I-ain’t-taking-no-shit’ attitude. And so we rescheduled for last Saturday. As I had to be in his town anyway, he was quick to offer me a place to stay, and even came to pick me up from where I was to go back to his house. While walking (in heels, ugh!) he mentioned that he knows someone at my company, and that he’s told this person that he’s dating me. I wouldn’t call what we’re doing dating, but anyway. He’s got a tiny but super clean apartment, made me a drink, showed me a few videos of the festival he went to, and then jumped on me. Super easy. He’s a great kisser, and loves it too, if only he didn’t nearly rip out my nose ring while going at it, but oh well. We moved into his bedroom, and quickly got naked. His oral skills hadn’t improved greatly, but with a few subtle pointers, I quite enjoyed it. Again, I had to do some work to get him hard, but he got there. He threw me around a bit, I got a few good swats on my ass (yay!) and then he told me to sit on his face while I sucked him. No need to tell me twice. I don’t know what he did, but his fingers and mouth where everywhere. He had remembered my comment about ass play, and when he worked my ass while licking me, I came so hard I lost the plot for a bit. I don’t remember getting such a fantastic orgasm since the Musician. He asked if I was ready to fuck. Hell yeah. He was kind of sweet about it, he seems to want to make sure all the time I am okay with what’s going on. The shitty thing was that he lost his hard on after only a minute or so. I don’t know if it had been taking too long (a good two hours) or if it was the condom, though he didn’t say anything. Eventually he finished himself off. All good, though I always love to actually fuck. We’ll see how he gets on a third time, if there is.

Also, I am meeting the Stud on Saturday. I had told him straight up his message about his butterflies for a forty year old with a kid didn’t hit me as well as I had anticipated, even though I had had my doubts about him for a while. I actually hadn’t contacted him for a good two weeks, thinking that if he wanted to see me, he could make the effort. I told him since that sleepovers were no longer an option, he should come to my town since I was a little tired of the traveling back and forth. So, I’ll see how that goes, the likely scenario is that he’ll kind of forget to talk about what we’re supposed to (even though he even suggested it) and then I am too chicken to bring it up and wait until the last minute. I am kind of determined to not let that happen; he wanted to talk, so let’s talk. I’ve got some preparing to do. Like figuring out what the point is.

Finally, I have a Tinder date set up for Sunday. A normal date. I’ve been talking to this guy for a couple nights in a row, and he sounds pretty awesome. He’s got a man bun, works for a web designing agency, rides a motorcycle and plays the guitar. He seems to have stuff to talk about and doesn’t seem shy about the whole thing. So we’re going for drinks on Sunday afternoon, and dinner if we’re having a good time. I deserve a good date, for crying out loud.

She’s Fourty

It happened. The Stud texted me last night, and in a conversation about each of our weekends, he mentioned that he had been on a date last Friday. And then proceeded to tell me he is feeling butterflies. Excuse me? I asked if this was someone that would change his mind about not wanting anything serious. He said he’d go into it open minded and see what happened. A little offended, I told him that at least he could now stop waiting for someone better to come along. He said that wasn’t what he was doing. I told him I didn’t want to talk about it.

She’s fourty and has a three year old. Seriously. She’s pretty (yes of course I looked her up) and I couldn’t help but be upset. More so than I thought I would be. He said he didn’t want a relationship. He does, just not with me. And as much as I knew that, it still hurts a little.

Even though I had been in so much doubt about to what extent he was using me, and if it was turning out to be more of a benefit for him than me, my reaction to the news was significant. Today I told him just that. He was understanding, and had kind of seen this coming by me not wanting to talk about it. He suggested we meet after the weekend and talk about it, face to face.

I’m not sure what the point is seeing as I am not good enough and apparently never will be, but it might be good to get it off my chest. If he doesn’t change his mind. I have always said he’s not a dick, and this is his chance to prove it.

All in all, I’ve got myself to blame for this one. I told myself I could do it when clearly I cheated myself. Maybe I should put the whole dating thing on hold for a while. It’s definitely not been working out for me lately, and there’s only so much rejection I can take.

Peacefulness

When I didn’t hear anything from the Stud for a while, I decided to call him last week. As I mentioned in my last post, since we’d been on four dates and all, I felt like I deserved at least some sort of explanation. So I called, half expecting him not to pick up. He did, and sounded happy to hear from me on top of that. We chatted for a while, and then he asked if I’d like to meet up now that I was back, maybe he could come my way this time? Hell yes. We agreed to call each other later that week as he had to go.

On Saturday, I received a message from him, we exchanged a few, until I asked him if he still wanted to meet up. He took a while to respond, and I knew what was coming. Yes, he would like to see me again, but I had to know he was no longer interested in casual sex, it wasn’t making him happy. Fair enough. I asked him what he did want, knowing that his disinterest in casual sex did not mean he wanted to be serious about me. He said he wanted to just meet and see how things went.

And so we met the next day. I was a little nervous it would be awkward, but it wasn’t. We went for a drink, then dinner, then more drinks, and it was every bit as nice as the previous four dates had been. Only this time I knew I wasn’t coming home with him, as much as I wanted to. I asked him how he felt about dating, and he said he had cut off all of his casual contact. Except for two. Me, and another girl he has been seeing since November. With her he’s actually recently had a ‘are we in a relationship?’ talk, and they decided no. He also said he sometimes still has a hard time with his failed marriage. He doesn’t like being alone, but realizes he needs to be, and it is not fair to string anyone along at this point, as he has too many things to figure out.

All very fair. I appreciated his honesty, and the fact he did this face to face. So where does it leave me? We continue to be in touch, and we will still see each other. Platonically for now, and if ever a spark happens, it happens, but it is not something he wants right now. And I am actually at peace with this situation. Realistically, a serious relationship with this man was probably not in the cards anyway and if it was, it would have been a messy one. He is very attractive, he’s great company and so if anything, I made a new friend. And who knows, one day.

Though I am not waiting around for it. I’ll continue dating, and we’ve kind of told each other to be honest. If feelings change for either one of us, it’s time to have a conversation.

So, do I have any dates lined up? None whatsoever. Ugh. Nothing interesting has come up on Tinder recently, and my dating websites have been eerily quiet. Maybe I should give dating a rest. Not that I want to, but sometimes it just makes me so tired to put myself out there time after time. When is it going to pay off?

Also, earlier today, I received a message from the Musician. He used my full name, asked my how I was, and then politely asked about my recent holiday. Uh… what do you want? He wants to know if I still work for my current employer. Yes, I do. Can I hook him up with a few things? I don’t think so. I have no intention of helping him out whatsoever. He ruined that a long time ago. He then inquires about my dating. I tell him I have met someone fantastic and am very happy. He doesn’t need to know. He tells me he is still happy with his Scandinavian chick. Well, good luck to you my friend. He ends with a ‘I’ll speak to you later. X’. Nah.

I felt a little weird after that, I did not need to hear from him, but after an hour, that feeling subsided. I seem to be in a comfortable space with the men in my life. And the ones that are not anymore.

Dates, dates, dates

I went on two dates this weekend. On Friday morning, I had a coffee date with the redheaded yogi from OKC. We met at the local coffee joint (he had biked half an hour through the rain) and it was all very civilized. A little skinny for my taste, but he had his stuff together, was easy to talk to and not nervous at all. And, he was very efficient. After two hours, on the dot, he put and end to it. He might be a serial dater and working a strategy! He offered to keep me company if my NY’s eve plans still fell through and followed up with a text this morning. I told him I straightened it out (really don’t want to go there just yet) but took him up on his offer for a second date. I’m not really into him, but I keep telling myself off not to write them off so quickly anymore.

Date number two was last night with the Tinder guy. We met at the train station, and made our way into town for drinks. Physically, I was not attracted to him. He had a good face, but he was small, and a little boyish. But, we had a good time, he was easy to talk to and had so much in common it was a little eery. On top of that, he’s a survival expert, very outdoorsy and does stuff like IronMan. He held open doors for me and brought me back to the train. I really wanted to like him…

Then! The POF guy. On Friday night, I was supposed to meet him, but when he told me he was hoping he’d recognize me and I told him he would because my picture was recent, he confessed his wasn’t. Major red flag. I told him I’d appreciate it if he would send me a recent photo as this did not make me feel comfortable. He said I shouldn’t judge by one photo, and that it was too late now because time and place had been set. Oh hell no. Staying home sounded like a better option. I told him just that, after which he finally emailed me a photo. Exactly what I expected. It wasn’t awful, but he didn’t look anything like the one online. So I cut him off with a short message that I didn’t appreciate being mislead and that for me, it’s a flag for more issues. He sent me four (!) emails to say how disappointed he was with me and what not. Glad I dodged that one.

Finally, the Ginger got in touch with me, to inform me he wasn’t excited about spending NY’s eve together. Mind you, I had never confirmed we would. But, he added, he didn’t say it to be mean. I told him the way he said it was indeed mean, but that I had gotten used to that with him quite quickly. I told him again to delete my photos, how to use the pills I’d sent him a while ago and best of luck with everything. He said he wasn’t trying to be mean, he just wanted to be honest with me but he sometimes had troubles voicing his feelings. They were not black or white when it came to me, and they were ever changing. Could he still let me know how the pills worked out? And he did like chatting to me. Clearly this man is scared to let go of something. I’m not gonna be kept on the back-burner, thanks a lot. Make up your damn mind and until then, leave me alone because I can’t be hung up on you. And please stop ending your messages with X-es.

So, NY’s eve. Just when I had decided that maybe I should stay home, give myself a break and reflect for a bit, my friend Anna convinced me to come to her neighborhood party. She is even nice enough to drive me home afterwards. Home alone or champagne amongst people? People it is.

Back on the horse

Despite all the changes of heart I’ve had and the back and forth in between my feelings about the situation with the Ginger; I haven’t texted him. Yay. He sure has texted me though. I have replied sporadically, but what it comes down to is I feel like he is confused, and with this holiday month, he’s not so happy about being alone. He hasn’t heard anything from him friends (wonder why if he’s treated them the same way), and he realizes the toll his lifestyle has taken on his social life. So he’d rather settle for the moment as to not be alone and then come January, someone’s gonna get hurt again. When he found out I have no plans for NY’s eve, (curses for all my friends having babies) he was quick to suggest we could celebrate and get drunk together. I ain’t gonna be your backup plan, my friend.

So I have thrown myself back into the dating game. When stuff like this happens my mind always goes into overdrive and I get nervous about being 30 and alone. (how sad). Tomorrow, I have a coffee date with a guy that practices yoga as much as I do. And, oh cruel twist of fate, is a redhead as well. We talked for a bit on OKC, and I know little about him except that he’s a physiotherapist. We’ll see how that goes.

Then on Saturday, I’m going for a drink with a guy off Tinder. My first Tinder date! He’s quite attractive, I dare say out of my league, but he seems a little too eager to meet. He texts a little too much and he even kind of invited me over for NY’s. Mind you, we haven’t even met yet. Hopefully it’s harmless, but I foresee a man with issues.

Finally I’m setting up a date with a guy from POF that I know absolutely nothing about. Keeps it interesting!