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.

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.

The Talk

I had simmered down a bit from my anger preceding my date with the Stud last Wednesday, not in the least because I had a lot of time to think, and also because I have sane friends.

The first one told me I couldn’t murder him for being honest with me. Fair point. I’ve talked about this before, but my issue (one of them) is that I don’t talk. I won’t tell men anything about my feelings, thoughts or anything deeper until I know it is worth the investment. This particular friend also pointed out calling it an investment is ridiculous. How else are they supposed to get to know me when I won’t let them? How can I blame them for walking away when I’m not giving anything? And especially because I knew the Stud’s intentions, I haven’t been very open, which (in my mind) means that I don’t have a right to anything.

The second one said ‘fuck this other chick’. The only question I needed an answer to is what does he want? And there’s three options; does he want a platonic friendship, friends with benefits, or does he see a relationship? Nothing else concerns me. I needed to think about whether I would be ok with whatever answer I would get. And if I would be; it means acceptance, because my eyes are wide open.

So, I had calmed down a bit. Though when I texted him on Tuesday what the plan was, he told me he could meet after nine, where he had told me earlier before. I told him that was quite late considering it was a weeknight, and also that he had told me he’d be available earlier. He said I was right, and cancelled his appointment. Then asked if I wanted to go to dinner together. Yes, I did.

And so we met at his house. He came straight from his rowing training, changed his clothes, and off we went to a Spanish restaurant. The weather was fabulous, we sat outside and before we knew it, had downed a bottle of wine. Things went as usual. We talked for hours, he told me loads of stuff, I did less so. He mentioned a few dates he’d been on, the one chick he stayed over with. I told him about mine. He said I was an exception to the rule when it came to casual dating. I didn’t say anything. We went to the next bar, had another glass, and then went back to his place when it hit one in the morning. Good thing I had taken the next day off.

And then as we were about to get to bed, I got my period. I’d felt it coming all day so wasn’t too surprised, but wasn’t quite sure how he’d take it. He just smiled, said it was a bummer, but oh well. Nothing I could do. We got into bed, made out for a little bit, talked, and then I sucked it up and asked whether we should talk about it, and asked him what he did with the woman he spent four days with the weekend prior. He told me he didn’t, he went home on Monday, and they’d had sex once. She wants to get back with her ex. He doesn’t want to impose.

What about me? He thinks I am beautiful, great and he likes me, but he likes things the way they are now. He still just doesn’t want any relationships. He wants to keep me around, he genuinely feels that we are friends. And if I don’t want to do it his way, I need to tell him and he will adjust. I told him for now I am ok with what he wants, but that I don’t need to know about anyone else he sees. That I need him to be clear at all times. He said that if either one of our feelings change, we need to talk about it.

He is worried about where I stand. And he should be. I’m a girl, after all. It’s up to me now. I realized there’s no point in anger, this is all about me, not him. It doesn’t matter if he continues to see that other woman. What matters is me, how I feel about the situation and to which level I want to take this. I’m not in love with him, yet. And I’d like it to stay that way, but I give it three months before I’d have to tell him I am scared of falling in love with him and getting hurt. Because that’s how it’ll go. I’m just a girl. Until then, I will just see how it goes.

Did I tell him that last paragraph? Of course not. So, I decided I need to work on these things, and he’ll be my guinea pig. I need to be more open, say what I really feel, and not be afraid to say what I want. Because that might be what is keeping me from being in an actual relationship.

We went to sleep, and woke up at ten. We just cuddled and kissed for the next hour or so, and eventually got up. He made breakfast, cooked eggs, talked some more and just took it easy. He dropped me off at the trains later, and off I went to lounge around in the sunshine. I felt kind of bad about the whole period thing. If we’re friends with benefits he kind of wasted a night with me, but I shoved the thought aside.

So that’s the story! I texted him on Friday after a couple of family visits that had not gone so well and he asked if I needed a shoulder to cry on. His intentions are good.

The whole thing’s got me thinking about my (non)relationships. I don’t want to be alone, in with that, I need to be careful not to hang on to something for too long that’s not going to work. I have never been told ‘I love you’ by a man, however sad that is. And in my quest to find something like it, I sometimes go a little overboard. (I signed up for a paid dating site today) And I date and date, yet I don’t really put myself out there. After all, who likes getting hurt?

He wore flared curduroys

This post took a bit longer than planned as my hard drive crashed last week. Thank God some Geniuses were able to fix it and restore all my data at that! I wonder if they saw my bookmarked dating accounts…

Anyway, I went on an OKC date last Sunday. I think my statistics were up again and I was due for boredom. When he walked up I thought he was alright, but he was a case of ‘buthisface’. While I could get over flared corduroys (though, seriously?) I cannot get over jacked up hands. Yuck. He was nice to talk to, but not interesting. Add the previous, and it was an unsuccessful date. I have not heard back from him either, which probably means he’s thinking something along the same lines.

Then I am in touch with a Tinder guy that texts at nine thirty PM that he’s free tonight. Dude. I am easy sometimes but not when I don’t know who the fuck you are. When I told him I wasn’t that easy he told me he was joking and subsequently blocked me. How funny.

Also last week, I landed in a heated argument with the Musician. As I mentioned, we’d been texting and he’d been playing his usual ‘I might come over’ game. This time he took it as far as am I on the pill? So when I took him up on it a few days ago, I heard the expected excuses, but did not let him get away with it. I phoned him up and straight up told him that he’s an asshole, he has issues, doesn’t know what the hell he wants and is taking advantage of the situation. He was upset. In fact he doesn’t know what he wants, he is always on the lookout for something better to come along. I told him he doesn’t give a shit who he texts, he just texts me because I reply. He hasn’t got the slightest clue or interest in how I am. He denied, but apologized for a bunch of stuff in the end. He very kindly texted me for my birthday the next day, so I guess he isn’t the sort to hold grudges.

Pfew, anyway, I am seeing the Stud tomorrow. I managed to get him a sample of something he wanted  and need to drop it off. I am being way too nice by not only giving it to him, but also dropping it at his house while he is too busy to go for drinks. I know that he genuinely is, so don’t hold it against him. It kind of leaves him in debt I suppose, but I just want to do something nice for him, hopefully it’ll be good karma, because I want to get laid. I am seeing him at nine thirty, which is way late. I am not expecting to be out the door within fifteen minutes  with a ‘yo, thanks!’, but since we’ve established he’s allergic to commitment at the moment, I doubt he’ll be in for sex. Ugh. Why am I doing it? Nice, be nice…

The big third

So remember when the Ginger cancelled our third date right before he went on tour? Well, last Sunday he came home. We had a date set for Monday. But before that, on Sunday, I had a little bit of a freak out.

When he was on the train going home from the airport, we were texting back and forth, and he mentioned how he just wanted to relax on his couch with a movie. And then somehow the conversation progressed into having me come over for a blowjob, because what’s better than a movie and a BJ? Stupidly enough, I played along for a bit, but the more and more he kept going, the more I felt backed up into a corner. Yes, I wanted to see him, but I was fully aware that I would give off a signal of being easy and available as a friend with benefits if I were to go. Normally, I would have taken the easy option, avoid talking about it, and just do it. In this case I could do just that, I could not reply to his messages anymore, which would be weird, or I could tell him how I felt, which I never do. I opted for the last option after having a mild panic attack. I didn’t want to come across as needy, but I liked him too much to ruin everything by going there. I told him exactly how I felt; backed up into a corner. He immediately picked up the phone and said that was the last thing he wanted. It started as a joke, and I would stay home and we’d see each other tomorrow and have a fun date. Pfew. I figured if he ended up canceling the next day after all; he’d be a jackass and I’d know what he was after.

He didn’t cancel. He ended up having to cover for a friend for a teaching job, and so he came to my place late in the afternoon. We were supposed to go out and do something as both previous dates, we basically ended up at home. But it turned out he was too tired from traveling and all. We went for about an hour because he wanted to see my town, and then went back home. We talked for a bit, watched some TV and then jumped each other. I have to say I did most of the work. He definitely wanted that blowjob. He’s quite responsive and appreciative, and I enjoyed it alright. He made me stop before he came, took me to the bedroom, and flipped me on all fours.

Afterwards we showered, talked about random stuff, I cooked dinner, he helped out, and it was perfectly comfortable. We watched a movie and went to bed. In the dark, we talked for a long time while he held me. Or rather; he talked and I listened. Eventually, we fell asleep. In the morning we had breakfast and he left just before noon to do his laundry before flying out the next day again.

After he left, I felt a bit sad and didn’t quite know what to do with myself. That feeling subsided, and the next day my insecurities came back in full force.

We were supposed to go out but had yet another house date. I feel like we should be doing exciting stuff to get to know each other. He doesn’t ask a lot of questions. He listens when I talk, but he doesn’t enquire much. I didn’t come. He texted to say he had a good time but appears to be a whole lot slower replying than before. It was too comfortable, easily perceived as boring. I don’t fit in his arms. We didn’t talk about anything important. At all.

So, all in all, I feel like I’m in the dark. Will I see him when he gets back? I hope so and I will definitely ask him to. But I wish I’d have felt more confident after date #3, and I don’t.

Midnight Bootycalls

I’m in the middle of one as we speak. Let’s back it up, shall we?

Anyone remember the rugby player from Fiji I was talking to online? Well, he’s been very hot and cold. We’ve tried to meet up twice, and he cancelled very last minute both times. With valid reasons that were actually true (he’s added me to his facebook and instagram) but still. Not into that. We had decided to meet up again tonight for a drink. But this afternoon, I sill hadn’t heard from him (as usual). So I sent him a note, to which he replied: ‘Probably not babe, I need to stay off the beer’.

Ok. 1: They do serve other beverages at bars. 2. I am not forcing beer down your throat. 3. What the hell kind of lame excuse is that? So I told him that I wasn’t into the yes no maybe thing, and that we should leave it. He was quick to apologize, saying he just moved here (no you didn’t) and that he needed time to settle but that we’d meet up for sure. Whatever.

So here I am, in my sweats on the couch, when my facebook messenger goes off. ‘Do you want to come over tonight?’ Well hello. Bootycall, anyone? I gave it a few minutes of thought, and then told him I can’t tonight. Really, I want to, I really do. He’s so fucking hot. But I am trying to be better. (And I’m on my period, which is actually the real excuse). I asked him if he was feeling lonely, to which he said he just wanted some company, and told me again to come over. I imagine he usually gets away with this stuff, so I’ll give him a bit of a hard time. I have no choice, as much as I wanted to!

Also, Louis is totally on again. I had to tell him again I wasn’t about to have sex in the bathrooms at work. Apparently he wants it so bad he wants to come to my house again. Last time we’d talked about it, he found it awkward. Guess something is eating him. I cancelled on him for last week though. Not sure if I want to do that whole thing again.

Look at me! Being such a good girl.