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!

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He sang to me.

I am blown away. Yup, you read it, a man has managed to blow me away.

Let’s call him the poker player. We matched on Tinder last Friday, which I was super happy about, because he’s hot. I sent him a short ‘yay!’ message, and we chatted for a bit that night. Then on Saturday afternoon, he asked if I wanted to come over and drink wine in a nice cafe. I wanted to. But I already had another date with a guy from OKC set up. He told me to cancel, because he was much more fun. I told him I’d need a really good reason, because that’d be awful for my karma. He said he’d love to stare into my eyes over wine and have a wander through the dark city. And I thought; ‘what the hell.’ So I cancelled my date, and agreed to meet him.

He came to meet me at the train station, and when I saw him, I got even more excited. I think he felt the same, he grabbed me, planted three kisses on me, and off we went. We went to a tiny little cafe, and never stopped talking until two in the morning. He’s a professional poker player, and does so well he doesn’t live in this country but on a sunny island somewhere (not too far) for tax purposes, though he’s here often. We connected on so many things, yoga, meditation, our views on life and relationship. He radiated such calm and was so down to earth I never wanted to leave.

The only thing, and I knew this since I had looked him up, is that he’s barely out of a long relationship. He’s been together (engaged even) for nine years, and only split six weeks ago. I also saw the message on Facebook, in which he said there were no fights, it was a mutual decision that after so many years they had to face the fact they were not meant to be. They’d always be friends and all that. Very mature. When he talked about it that evening, he was very mature and calm about it. Nine years is a long time, though that kind of decision isn’t usually made overnight. Before meeting, he had told me he was dating, and whatever happened, happened, but he might be rebounding for all I know. That’d make the most sense.

I am tempted to believe him, there was something different about him. Anyway, when one o’clock rolled around and he wanted to go get another drink I told him that I would love to stay, but that if he didn’t feel like being responsible for a place to stay for me, I would have to think about my trains home. He wanted me to stay. A little voice in the back of my mind told me that maybe I should go home if I liked him, I might get hurt, but as usual, I ignored it.

We finished our drink, and off we went. We walked to his friend’s place, where he stays, and he stopped me on a bridge to kiss me. There we were, in the middle of the night, kissing on a bridge. It was awesome. When we got into the apartment building, he noticed there was a roof terrace. We got a bottle of wine from the house, some cheese, and went back up. We drank wine, had some cheese, he sang to me. We kissed some more. At one point, he just looked at me and said ‘is this all for me?’ Very smooth. At one point, he mentioned that this town seemed like a much better place to be, all of a sudden.

Once inside, we sat on the couch, he put music on, and started making out. Obviously that pretty quickly turned into lots of nakedness. And good, good sex. He was hung, and circumcised (which is rare here). After that, we moved into his bedroom, cuddled, talked some more and after a while, he was ready again. By the time we went to sleep, it was five in the morning. But when I had to get up to go to the bedroom a little later, I noticed I had bled a little on the sheets. Fuck. I had just come off my period, so that wasn’t it. This was the second time this happened. Once I discovered that, I lay there stressing out for a good hour. Was I going to tell him? Was I not and be surprised when we saw it? Was I gonna bleed more? Should I sleep on my back? And, how would he react?

Eventually, I did fall asleep, and we slept until noon. Nothing happened. He woke me up massaging my back. Seriously. One thing led to another, and we had slow morning sex. Once he pulled back the sheets, he saw the stain, saw my face (I was still mortified), shrugged and said ‘we made a mess’. And proceeded to make out. After he came, we laid there forever. He said he’d come so good and was so relaxed he was tingling and seeing purple stars. We stayed in bed, I was on his chest, and he’d kiss my hair every now and then.

When we did get up, he made us breakfast, we ate it half naked and it wasn’t awkward at all. He put his sheets in the washing machine, set up his computers to work later, and we left the house together. I was going home, he was going to get groceries. So we had to say goodbye on the corner of the street. He gave me three kisses on the cheek, a peck on the lips, said ‘great date’, and then ‘bye.’ and turned around and left. I was a little taken aback by the abruptness of it. No ‘see you next time’, or ‘we’ll be in touch.’ I went home wondering if he was just very good at the game, if I looked differently in daylight, or if he just doesn’t do goodbyes.

Once home, I contemplated a plan of attack. I wouldn’t text him yet, I would give him time. I don’t think that after a serious relationship like he had, he wants to be crowded by someone wanting all sorts of things from him after a first date. So I talked it over with my friend, and went to bed, feeling a little weird about it. The goodbye was in such contrast to the date, and rather anticlimactic.

But when I woke up this morning, I woke up to a message from him. A nice one, too. He nicknamed me, said he had had a great date, then some about his Sunday, and a have a good workweek for me, ending with an x. We went back and forth a bit, I asked if the sheet got clean (it did) and that’s it for now. I don’t want to be on his case, I want to give him space. At the same time, I think he goes back to his island home some time next week, so I do plan on asking him to see if he’d like to meet up again before he goes.

The distance thing doesn’t bother me, but the relationship is a bit tricky. He is most likely not ready for anything at all. And here I am, feeling like this after only one date, and that never happens. It’s very likely I am going to get hurt. We will see how this goes; I am trying to manage my expectations and hope, though I really, really like this one.

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.

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?

200+ Followers!

It’s weird. More than two hundred people read this blog. People I don’t know. Most of you are lurkers (hello!) but for the ones that actively comment and what not; I would have stopped long time ago if you hadn’t.

Which brings me to my next points; it’s a little weird and scary that so many people read about my (sometimes) embarrassing adventures and my outpour of emotions. Thank God for anonymity.

Also; even sadder, this blog has been running for sixteen months. Yes, that is sad. In sixteen months, I have had countless dates, met loads of interesting and not so interesting men, met a few assholes, met a few with great potential that eventually broke my heart, had good and bad sex and in the end… lead to nothing.

Here’s to hoping this blog will not make it to two full years. But I’ll keep you updated in the meantime.

Thanks!

He brought his dog

Last Friday I went on a date with the Tinder guy with a houseboat. He came to my town, which is always a plus. When I was waiting for him, I saw a guy come out of the parking garage, but doubting if it was him. Who would bring a dog to a date? Well, he did. He came straight off a boat he had a job on, working boots, torn shirt, and paint all over himself, his beard and his clothes. Eh… ok. I’m not judging. We went to my local bar, and sat outside. It was a little awkward at first. He was very relaxed, of the kind that doesn’t need conversation to have a good time. I kinda do. We talked a bit, silence. Talked a bit, silence. And I decided to not try so hard. He was on this date also. He didn’t ask a lot of questions, but told me bits and pieces about himself. I like the whole hippie thing, but he was on the other end of my universe. He lives on whatever boat he works on at the moment, does not own anything except for his car and dog, plans on sailing the world one day, gets bored if he makes too much money, so whatever he earns goes into his own boat. He squats in an abandoned school to have an address, has been married and ran a coffee joint in a windmill he owned with his ex-wife. I mean, wow. He seriously doesn’t give a fuck about anything. We called it a night after three drinks, I took him back to his car, got a big hug, and off he went. The next day, he messaged me on Tinder (while he has my number) asking if I had seen him to anything with his phone, because he lost it. I hope he’s not insinuating I took it.

Just a couple nights before that I went to dinner with a friend of mine. After several rounds of sushi, she was up to date about the situation with the Stud, and we decided to go for drinks. We went to this totally laid back bar by the water, where you sit in the grass or share your pick nick table with strangers, and get your own drinks. While my friend got the first round, two guys asked if they could join us. Absolutely. We ended up talking to them the whole night. My friend, who is engaged and has a child, hit it off with the guy with a girlfriend and a huge want for kids, so I was left talking to the most attractive, single one. By the time we looked at our watches, my friend freaked out as she’d missed the last bus and had no idea how to get to her car she’d parked way out of town. The guys very nicely offered to give us a ride. So her new friend went to drop her off at her car, and the other gave me a ride on the back of his bike to the train station. When he asked for my full name to look for me on Facebook, I figured it was save enough to ask for his number. By the time I was on the train, he had already found me, and so I sent him a message in return. Turns out he’s coming to my town on Friday, and asked if I wanted to do it again. Sure thing. Date it is!

And then there is the Stud of course. We have been in touch only a little, he’s been super busy working on the weekends. When he did text he asked again when we should go for drinks because he still had some explaining to do. I told him we’d do it when he was on holidays and relaxed. His holiday starts tomorrow, so should be soon! My friends seem to think this could turn out to be the good news conversation, but I still have a hard time believing this, and I really don’t want to put too much thought into it so save myself a lot of disappointment.