Roadblocks

I have struggled a bit (a lot) trying to find inspiration and motivation to blog again. Have you noticed? I feel like lots happened, and nothing happened at the same time. It’s been five months since my last post, and while I never stopped dating completely, I did take it very easy. It’s been a summer of festivals, parties and there have barely been weekends that were not planned completely full. And, I’ve bought a house in another city! Especially that one feels huge to me. It (I thought) meant having to make a final decision between settling down and continue to travel the world. Only a few weeks ago I realized one does not cancel out the other. So I made a big commitment, but I feel like it will force a much needed change.

The biggest reason I didn’t feel motivated to write was because nothing changed, and I felt like I had not progressed even a little. I am still single, got frustrated, disappointed and even upset all over again. I spent a lot of time thinking about the whole dating thing, all things I’ve written about before here. My Facebook feed is flooded with engagements and marriages this summer. People flutter from one relationship to the next and I’m still where I was five months ago. But sometimes, just sometimes I am quite pleased with that, especially when I remember to have fun with it. But a lot of times I get a little bummed, when I haven’t managed to overplan my weekends and I sit alone on a Friday night. I think we all know how that feels. FOMO, anyone?

Anyway, it’s not like nothing happened at all. There’s a few things worth mentioning just because they’re good stories.

During the heatwave this summer, I set up a date with swimming pool guy. He had a pool in his backyard. I saw possibilities, try and blame me. We went back and forth a bit and settled on a swimming date only a date later. Not in his pool, but we went to a lake close by. He came and picked me up by car which is something I normally wouldn’t do, but I could not muster the thought of riding my bicycle in the heat. We both brought stuff to fill a picknick basket, and off we went. We found a quiet spot, took off our clothes and jumped in. I didn’t really care getting in bikini on a first date. Conversation was easy, yet at times a little awkward. He wasn’t much of a talker. When we finally made out I found out he wasn’t a great kisser, but to be honest, I just wanted to get laid. So we got dressed, he got a good look, and I made him drive back to my house.

We skipped etiquette, stumbled onto my balcony, and got naked pretty quickly. When he asked if I wanted to take my panties off myself or if he could rip them off, I told him to do it. I wasn’t wearing anything special. I was not disappointed, he was very rough about it. It didn’t take him long to figure out what turned me on. He put his hands around my neck, and there wasn’t much I wouldn’t let him do. We took it inside where he went all out. The fact that it was so freakishly hot added to the whole dirtiness of it. We were both drenched in sweat, not in the least place because we took hours. More specifically, he took hours. HOURS. And then he didn’t, and I was over it a little. It was three in the morning, and I had work the next day. He didn’t seem to mind much, we jumped in the shower, and he asked if he could stay.

We had a quiet breakfast in the morning (which I made him, why?!) and then took off. When he texted me later, he said that he thought the sex was amazing, and fantastic and hot and he’d like to see me again for that, but that he didn’t feel a spark. I told him I was fucking tired of people yakking about sparks. That I was sure he had enough ladies in his contact list to fuck, but that I wasn’t going to be one of them. I was tired of being good enough only to fuck, and at that point I didn’t want to be another fuckbuddy. Looking back now I could have kept him on, but I wasn’t in a good place. I didn’t want to do that anymore.

So I’m back again, continuing to be in good spirits I hope! It feels like I’m always talking to someone, one of these days it has to happen right? I am leaving the best story for the next blog. I’ve been super high and super low on that one, but it’s a long story.

He called me a bitch. Sort of.

I went on (yet another) Tinderdate last week. He’d been nice to chat to, but a day before our date, confessed to me he was still living with his ex, and asked if that put me off. I told him that it depended on the situation, but for now, no. To be honest, normally that would definitely put me off, but I told myself that it would only be an issue if I ended up liking him. And, given my track record, that’s what probably would not happen.

He came, through the storm, and we went for a drink. Immediately when he walked into the bar, I knew. Nah. I wouldn’t be interested. He looked a bit older than his pictures, was bald (though I should have known since he wore hats in all of his pictures) and while he looked friendly in those pictures, I found him to be quite harsh. He had strong opinions about everything. His job. The people in it, people around him. He asked me loads of questions, I in return, did not ask him about his ex. He wasn’t interesting to me and I knew I wasn’t going to see him again, so there was no point in collecting that sort of information.

Somehow we got to talk about differences between men and women, how they fight, and then he asked me if I was one of ‘those unreasonable women’. I sure am. ‘So you’re kind of a bitch then?’ I think my eyebrows touched my hairline, and he knew he’d gone too far as he physically moved back a few inches. In all fairness, if it comes with a good joke I wouldn’t mind much, but he was dead serious. Not cool.

I ended it shortly after, using the getting up early for work excuse, and saw him off. And deleted him shortly after.

So, another unsuccessful date. I have to admit I’m getting a little tired of the dating. I like meeting new people, I don’t mind spending money on a drink here and there, but at the same time it is discouraging. At the moment, I’ve got nothing in the pipeline, and that’s ok. It’s a scary thing to admit, because I don’t want to be alone. I’ve been alone for thirty one years (give or take a few short lasted flings) and I don’t want to die alone. But all of my effort is not paying off.

It always makes me think of my (in my mind) almost fifty year old flute teacher when I was twelve. She was probably a lot younger. But, she was single, and lived alone. In my twelve year old mind, that was a horrible, sad, lonely thing. And to this day, I tell myself I don’t want to be like her. But I’m getting there, and that freaks me out.

New dawn, new year

And so here we have it; another year spent single went by. So so many dates have come and gone I can’t even keep track. None of them have stuck. Well, for the long run that is. I’ve met a few men that rocked my world for a little while, but nothing lasted. There’s been quite a few fellow bloggers that got engaged or even married, and in real life people are finding their soul mates left and right. Dating has never been easier with apps like Tinder, and yet, after a year of full on dating, I haven’t managed to find someone. As I told someone else earlier this week; I am the only constant. There were men that were into me, I believe that I could have been settled by now and yet, I refuse anything less than a hundred percent. Maybe by the end of this year I’ll look at it differently, maybe I’m looking in the wrong places.

But enough of that; here is the yearly list:

Number of weddings attended: one (my younger brother)

Number of funerals attended: none

Number of babies born: one (I’m an aunt!)

Number of dates I went on: countless

Number of sex partners I had: six

As for the regular updates; I went on a second date with the guy I saw the day before New Year’s Eve. When I texted him to ask if he was interested, he jumped on it and wanted to see me the next day. That wasn’t gonna happen, so we settled on Sunday. After a lot of back and forth, I went to his place. I had proposed drinks, but all of a sudden he wanted a day date, wanted to come to my town but after I told him there’s nothing here on a Sunday, he said he had to be back home by nine anyway, and he just wanted to spend an afternoon cocooning. Alright then. I decided to go to his instead, for some reason I did not want him in my house yet. So off I went through the storm. When I got to his place he greeted me with a kiss, made me tea and made small talk. Like last time, he was very calm and quiet. I was a little disappointed, I’d hoped he’d be a bit more alive. We  hung around on the couch for a bit, made out and he quickly wanted to move things to the bedroom. Literally within twenty minutes of me getting there. While I’m happy to report the sex was a bit better, he still didn’t last very long. We got naked pretty quickly, and before I’d even touched him he provided me with an orgasm with his fingers. I could tell he was ready to go but I wasn’t gonna have another super speedy session. But when I went down on him, I literally bobbed up and down twice, maybe thrice before he told me to stop or he would come. I obliged, stalled him a little longer, but then he made an attempt to go for it without condom. That wasn’t happening. He got the message, found one, and did me in missionary until he came, which didn’t take very long and happened in silence. It wasn’t weird, or particularly bad, but I like my men a bit more active, a little less vanilla and to last a bit longer. I don’t know if he takes a long time getting used to someone, or if this is as good as it gets.

He went to prepare dinner, and I took a long time dressing. I wasn’t quite sure how I felt. Yes I knew what he’d wanted, but it was the first time I didn’t really feel good about it. Was this really what I wanted? When I got myself together he was cooking, and I finished my tea, which was (mind you) still warm. Lukewarm, but still. He didn’t say much. I didn’t say much. It wasn’t terribly awkward, it was more a calm, serene thing and he might be the type that doesn’t mind sharing his personal space. It was like we’d been married for ten years. And so we had dinner, I helped him pick up a lamp for his bedroom, and he wanted to watch a movie, some action flick I wasn’t really interested in, but okay. I wondered if I should leave. I didn’t. I waited until the end. We had a glass of wine, and he still wasn’t very talkative. I’ve never had such a weird date. He’s attractive, has his shit together, I’m sure he’s got plenty stuff to talk about, but whenever we talked, his answers weren’t very elaborate, and not getting anything in return, you kind of give up. I finished my wine and told him I was gonna go. He saw me out with a kiss, and I left pretty abruptly. On my way home I couldn’t help myself but text him I hoped for his travel buddies he was gonna be a bit more talkative, or if he reserved that just for me. He texted back the next day saying sorry, he had been tired, and had had a really good time. Really? doesn’t take a lot more than sex I guess. He’s gone on a skiing trip now, and I hope he gets over that fatigue of him. Weird shit.

On New Year’s eve, I went clubbing with a few girlfriends. Nothing interesting there, but I did receive a few texts from the poker player. During the day where he wanted to say happy new year and we had a little catch up, and then he texted me in the middle of the night, calling me hot stuff and all. Kinda made my night, how pathetic.

Also, Couch guy asked to go on a second date. I told him I’d be busy for a few weeks and would have to let him know. Really don’t know about him, and I’d say I’ve had my fair share of weirdness.

I’ve got a few more dates lined up this week and so help me God I am telling myself sex is not an option. Though, the fact I closed and started the year sex wise with the same guy, should hopefully be a good omen. Or something.

He likes me part deux

And I don’t like him back. Could you have guessed?!

I went on a Tinder date a week and a half ago. He turned out to be another one hiding a babyface with a beard. Sigh. Also, he was very nervous, and it was the first thing he said once we met. Double sigh. Though when we went to have drinks and got through the initial awkwardness, he turned out to be a nice guy. Drinks eventually because dinner, but the second I agreed to it, I knew I shouldn’t have. He had his stuff together, was mature, stuff to talk about, and I wasn’t feeling it. I ended things pretty abruptly after dinner. It had been a whole four hours, way longer than I’d usually do if I’m not into someone.

Turns out he did like me, and texted me every single day, and had asked twice for a second date. I take hours replying if I’m not interested, but he didn’t pick up on it. Eventually I told him I didn’t want to string him on and that I didn’t want to continue dating. He was very disappointed. As in; ‘Ah man, I can’t believe it, I really liked you’. Insert sad smiley.

I want to like someone, I really do. But I don’t think it’s fair to go on another date with someone that’s obviously into me and then have to let them down after that. Better to hurt their feelings a little bit before that.

So what else have I got in the pipeline? Nothing. And that’s ok. There are men out there that like me, I just have to find the one I like in return.

He likes me

And I don’t like him back. As usual.

After coming back from the China trip (which was a bitch) I reactivated some of my dating profiles, after promising myself to have more fun with it. So I went on a date with a Tinder guy I’d been chatting with for days. He’s an elementary schoo teacher, which I think is awesome, seemed funny and was physically attractive. He drove all the way to my town and when we met there was… nothing. From my side at least. He was nervous, and it took him a couple minutes to calm it down. And remember how with the bisexual Stud I casually thought he was just in touch with his feminine side? Well, with this one I blatantly wondered if he was gay and in denial. He was a little judgmental, he didn’t like my job nor my employer, he doesn’t travel, doesn’t read, doesn’t like cities and sometimes pinches kids. We had no issues chatting but I wasn’t feeling it. At all.And now he’s still happily texting me and I have to tell him it ain’t gonna happen. I have to. Karma and shit.

On Tuesday I’m supposed to see another Tinder guy for some adult fun, so that’s something at least! I just have to remind myself the world doesn’t revolve around men and that I should learn to be okay by myself. Some days are better than others obviously.

While in China, the Stud sent me messages now and then to say good luck or ask how it went. Pretty nice. He then mentioned he had to be in my city for a competition tomorrow. I offered him dinner and a place to stay and he accepted. And then yesterday, when I asked him what the plan was, he said he was still around for the competition, but couldn’t meet me anymore. He’d made plans to go right to his friend-chick up north as they are having a stand at a flea market on Sunday to fund a trip they were going on. Say what? I got ditched. I then found out the two of them went to see a show just a few days ago. So obviously he prefers her company over mine, spends a fuckload of time with her, and cannot even bother to come see me when he’s in my fucking city. And I thought the new girlfriend was gonna bother me. Oh sure, he did ask me if I am free one night next week. But to be honest, he doesn’t feel like such a good friend that I wonder if he’s worth the hassle. Two weekends in a row with this other friend that he cancels his plans with me for, but sure I can hop over for two glasses of wine before it’s time to go to bed. And yes, I know I need to let it go a little (anyone notice the contradiction?) but I might just have to reconsider the whole situation. I don’t like feeling second hand.

An Epiphany

I had one. Seriously.

Lately I had been irritated with the kind of men messaging me on OKCupid and my other paid website. Fifty year olds with pot bellies, balding thirty year olds and dirty forty somethings with cigarettes hanging out of their mouths and bad teeth. Did these men really think I was in their league? It upset me, even. (Which I find awful to admit because I’m really trying to be less judgy) Surely I could do better than guys like that.

But then, in some really clear moment, it hit me. Was I a female version of these men, trying to date outside of my league? Is that why my dating life has been shit lately? All these men either stop messaging after a few or not replying at all. All these men that I do not get past two dates with. Is it karma? I’ve left men hanging, not replied or even been rude. Maybe I’m getting what I deserve.

There must be something fundamentally wrong with me. There is. I’m a bitch. A lot of the time. I can’t deal with stupidity and flakiness. But instead of giving people a chance, I jump right at their throat. Especially men. And I probably look like it too. Even if someone were to be remotely interested, they’d back off at second glance.

Bottom line; I’ve got stuff to work on. I need to block men out of my life that are doing nothing but frustrating me, and I need to get my head clear. How can I find love if this is my state of mind? I am always envious of people that radiate calm, kindness and love. They are open, and people want to be around them. They’re always loved by someone. So if I want any of that, I need to change my attitude.

In a way my trip to China comes at the right time. Even though it is a work trip, I booked some holidays following, and perhaps I shouldn’t do anything but spend some time on myself and see if I can get things straight, at least in my head.

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.