My newest assignment

I’ve taken some major steps back from this blog to savor my new relationship. (And have a fun, but short visit from Kat!) The new beau is absolutely, positively, exactly what I wanted all these years. Last week he asked me to be his girlfriend. Things had been going so well with us, it seemed like a natural progression, but I was still genuinely surprised. I said yes, of course. And things have been amazing since the very first date. I haven’t felt the need to push or manipulate things to fit my own timeline – it flowed and everything, believe me, everything – feels amazing.

He is handsome and kind, funny and smart. He’s the abstract perfect man come to life. My friends like him and he likes my friends. He’s with me intellectually, physically and emotionally. We share things with each other. He introduced me to Parks & Recreation and M83, both of which have kind of changed my life for the better. My cat fell for him before I did. He’s forever saying the sweetest things, and he makes me feel more beautiful and sexy than any man I’ve ever been with. He gives me things I really need – things that I didn’t know I was capable of even receiving from a man. I’m blown away with gratitude on a daily basis. But I never gave up hope that something like this was out there.

Is it perfect? Almost. But perfection doesn’t exist. It’s been a long time since I’ve been “Relationship V” and I’ve had very little practice in being in healthy, loving, mutual relationships. I’ve learned that all relationships are assignments, so I’m making it a point to show up for this one. When something comes up – I ask myself : What can I learn from this?

Saturday, I meet his family. *gulp* Wish me luck, and serenity…

Playing for keeps

I’ve met a man that I want to keep. I nicknamed him The Musician in my last post, but I think I’ll call him The Mister. I belong to him now – it is safe to say that even my fickle heart doesn’t want anything, anyone else but him.

I’m surprised I had this good of a connection with someone from match.com – we met on a Wednesday and went for beers, went to a couple bars and closed the second one down. He was chivalrous as can be and we were bubbling over with things to talk about. Also, he’s devastatingly cute, which doesn’t hurt. When it was time to say goodnight, I searched his eyes – that look someone gives you, someone you really like, right before they’re about to kiss you for the first time? Yeah. So good. Our second date we got dinner and drove to the beach, walked and made out in the sand, sat on the concrete staring at the storms across the water until we were sore, then clung to each other like teenagers when he drove me back to my car. I would seldom venture to use adjectives like heavenly or magical to describe a feeling I have when I’m with someone, but that’s how it is.

It’s been a couple of weeks now. The dates are blending a little. He’s met my cats. He’s spent the night. He’s said he’s mine, if I want him. And I do. Lord, I do. I’ve been terrified of things going awry somehow, of messing things up, jinxing it. Every time I mention this, he tells me how much he likes me, really, really likes me, and how he likes “this.” He’s brought me flowers (a yellow rose, on our third date) and burned me a CD. He sent me YouTube videos when I was in a bad mood. He calls when he says he will. His sense of what I want and need is more intuitive than it’s been with anyone else in the past. I’m enjoying it slowly and cautiously before I jump in with both feet. But I’m already kind of in pretty deep already. And I’m okay with that.

On losing moMANtum

“The world is wide, and I will not waste my life in friction when it could be turned into momentum.”
-Frances E. Willard

 

The month of August has been a busy one for me – family visiting, camping, family family family, my birthday. Not a lot of time for dates. Things promptly dissolved with K (better left alone I guess), I hooked up with sweet wonderful Miles a couple of times, but I don’t want a future with him. Can’t explain it, but he isn’t “it.” I haven’t found the elusive “it” yet…

I met up with PhD Andrew and had a couple of dates – this was awhile ago. Great first date, lots of chemistry and talking. Second date – he suggested splitting the bill. Which we did. Ladyboner killer. We didn’t talk much after that. Small talk here and there over text. He would roundabout ask me out but never blatantly suggest a time. He seemed really into me, I don’t doubt it – but he had no idea about chivalry rules (or if he did, he ignored them) and things cooled from there. The dating dwindle happens  more often than not. Things trickle to a stop. Gotta keep that momentum! If you want a second, third or fourth date, you have to keep in contact with the girl, keep her interested. It’s really all about momantum.

There was The Librarian – an offbeat, scholarly ginger (and yeah, an actual librarian) who I swapped emails with on and off. He pursued me lackadaisically at first, then harder – we made a series of date plans, all of which kept crumbling due to schedules and distance, and his inability to use his phone for either texts or calling. He made a harder push to meet me and I agreed, but he never set a date or time. We would G-chat, one day he sort of made me feel bad about my work hours (7 pm most nights, could be worse) and suggested, life coach style, that I do something “else” with my life. I got annoyed and told him politely that I didn’t need advice from a prospective date. Then I added, if you’d like to go out, ask me, “no more blowin’ smoke.” I couldn’t stand his waffling anymore.

Then we have L.L. Bean – who is apparently a photographer there (ah New England) but also does travel/food photography and bears an extraordinary resemblance to Anthony Kiedis of the Red Hot Chili Peppers. We’ve been emailing back and forth trying to schedule date number one for awhile. Then he had a sudden dental appointment he forgot about, and things got pushed back. Our schedules are oil and water and he lives in Portland, Maine, making things all the trickier. Meanwhile, momentum is being lost. He’s very aesthestically/intellectually appealing, but over the course of boring emails my interest is dwindling. Maybe his, too.

Next on deck is The Woodsman, an attractive bearded (praise Jesus!) gentleman who lives in the mountains and makes his living maintaining property for the AMC (Appalacian Mountain Club) hut system. Mmmm. He’s very outdoorsy which is a contrast to city-mouse me – I love the woods but prefer my woods time to be clean and controlled, in close proximity to Starbucks and flush toilets. Oppsites attract? Anyway, we’ve been emailing steadily but the “spark” that was there initially has diminished. And there has been no talk of a date.

I really think it’s best to meet up with your prospective suitors as soon as possible, see if there’s a spark, and go from there. This lollygagging and endless emailing (or worse texting) is driving me so insane. Get in the car and start pressing the gas pedal. You’ll never get anywhere, otherwise. Duh. Maybe it’s partially my fault? I just want some action, you know?

Last – certainly not least – is The Musician – for lack of better nickname. I swore off musicians (at least those with active bands) for a long time. But they pull me in, like moths to a flame. The Musician sings/plays guitar in an indie-rock-emo-atmospheric-rock band (think Mogwai/Jimmy Eat World/Explosions in the Sky) and lives across the state. He’s an aspiring high school English teacher who quoted Thoreau in his profile. Swoon. Over email he seems sincere and earnest, not overly sweet or complimentary, which is actually nice before you meet someone. You want someone to work up to those things, not be like Move in with me, Babe. He is my favorite and although it’s inadvisable to put “eggs” in any basket, I’d like to place mine in his. First date tonight. Wish me the best of luck.

Pedal to the metal,
V

Move in with me, babe (part 2)

In case you missed the first one, “move in with me babe” is just what it sounds. This is the second email, too priceless not to share. Keep in mind, I never met this person; only exchanged a couple emails, both of which were like this. Unedited for your viewing enjoyment! This is for you, Manda!

—————————

Aww you called me babe! 😀

I thought i had left my name behind before. It’s _____, you can call me Bry.

Would you really come live with me. I think I’d get you to, like no joke. And haha you can bring your cats.

You are right. Like attracts like. I hope that you can at least come by for a weekend sometime soon just to stay with me for a weekend. So we can finally meet.

I’m like you, a helpless romantic. I tend to fall in love fast. But i’m selective about it. I honestly don’t think i’ve ever been with someone similar to me. that’s why i am so attracted to you. I really do hope you text and call me soon 555-555-4555

maybe we can shoot for next weekend when you come up. swing by on a Friday or Saturday and leave Sunday or Monday.

haha it’s nuts but we have nothing to lose. I wouldn’t ever invite someone to stay with me. But you’re just not anyone. You’re amazing. Not only am i extremely attracted to you. But i love who you are, the way you talk, artciluate things, your brain, your heart, your smile.

I’ve been debating whether I should let myself really like you coz you are not around. and I realized that i’m just gonna go for it. I’d probably leave anyone just to be with you. if that sounds insane then it’s probably coz love is…………like crazy.

There is literally space for you here. haha you should after coming to see me and pretty much thinking i’m awesome 😛 come back again to stay…………..for good. and it’s coz i’m ready to live with a girl. you make me really giddy.

it’s a kind of excitement that comes from thinking that you have a special bond with someone. I feel that already with you. I don’t write anyone like this or talk to anyone like this.

ugh. you’re killing me. I Wish u were here. I wanna go to sleep next to you every night, and wake up next to you every morning and give you kisses and always love and support you and push each other to do great. I want something lasting and something forever, as long as we get a dog somewhere among the cats I’ll adopt from you.

I’ve never met someone online that I’ve had such a deep deep feeling for. It’s almost scary but i’ve let myself go. I can’t turn back haha.

We have so much to get done. I will focus my energy on making sure you come, and you come soon. and there after, that you stay for good.

I’m sorry that you haven’t had a good history in the past being a helpless romantic and all. It;s coz not everyone gets us. I think the reason I’m dyin to be with you is coz………….YOU love the way that I love. And that’s the passion I’ve always wanted.

The very first time I see you, which i hope is sooner than later, I won’t hold back and just give you a giant kiss and hug and lift you up.

idk how to describe this Victoria. I almost feel like we are already together and these are almost letters I’m writing you. Like I’m off at war or something and i write you to tell you how much I love you and how much I miss you. It’s kinda crazy.

but it’s a great crazy. It’s a crazy It think you understand coz you are that way too.

I hope to hear from you soon. I’m dying toi hear your voice and wanting to embracing it and embrace you in the process.

seriously think about it. And i hope that we work something out so that you may come see me soon.

with the warmest love imaginable

sincerely,

your future husband

I responded, basically telling him – kindly, gently – that he seemed crazy, and that if we were to date, we would have to take it slow. I also told him that he made me uncomfortable. Then all he could talk to me about was the weather. The end.

xo,
V

The relationship imagined

Exactly a week ago, I bared [what I thought were] my true feelings to K. I told him he was my “person,” and that I had made a mistake and regretted it sorely. He said yes, he wanted to “try.” But – there would be obstacles. He lives over two hours away and works almost three away, and spends most of his time in another corner of the state, working long hours and taking care of his father, who has cancer. Admirable, yes. Practical for me, no. K is a great guy – we made out and made love and it was great for what it was, but I didn’t experience the rockets, rainbows and dolphins clapping as I’d hoped (I’ve felt them before!). It was matter of fact. And almost immediately I felt off-center.

K mentioned that he has no desire to return to my geographic vicinity. He said it “treated him poorly” and he is happier in his neck of the woods, a place where I have no desire to live as it is far from everything pertaining to civilization, and I am a “city mouse.” I also felt paralyzed by fear of giving up my single girl status. No more dates. And worse, no more surprises – like Zach Braff’s character says in The Last Kiss, one of my favorite movies. For a “relationship” that I wasn’t even sure about to begin with. Did I simply want what I couldn’t have? The comfort that it represented? The romantic notion of falling for my “best” friend?

The people in my life that know about my feelings for K seem to understand that they wax and wane. No one wants me to hurt K, but it’s not my fault. I never, ever intended to. It’s really not fair. It all somehow seemed to vaporize. K wasn’t sweet either, he hardly texted me at all. It was nothing the way I thought a so-called relationship would be. Not only removed geographically, but emotionally. Perhaps he was “afraid” of getting hurt, or something. I still don’t know. He came up for my birthday on Tuesday and of the six or seven people who came to my party, I spoke to him the least. He was always outside the bar smoking. I realized I hate that he smokes and how it makes him taste. I also realized I wasn’t as attracted to him as I should be. I was, then wasn’t. Or rather, I overlooked my lack of physical attraction to him, for feelings I thought I had, but don’t seem to anymore.

I had a fabulous, awesome birthday. My friend Jay picked up my drink and meal tab. K didn’t offer. He didn’t bring me a card or anything. (Not that I feel that he SHOULD have, it’s no biggie, but I gave him a card for his, when we were still “friends,” and it would have been nice.) I laughed a lot that night. K wasn’t really a part of my good time. My friends sensed a lack of connection. I allowed him to come to my apartment after. I was watching Life and he laid down next to me and I must have passed out, because Iwoke up at 3 am with my glasses still on. He was there. No kiss, no sex. I’d been pretty drunk but I felt no physical draw. It was puzzling. He said almost nothing to me and then left to drive the two hours back to his part of the state. Aside from a text letting me know he made it home, I have not heard from him.

I’m 99% sure we’re not together, if we are it is the worst and most pathetic relationship. We haven’t discussed the status quo but I’m alarmed by the coldness of the interactions we’ve shared, not just on my end but his. There’s an overtone of apathy that can’t be denied. If it were amazing and felt right, I guess I could give up my beloved single status. This feels wrong. But it’s too awkward and awful to talk about and neither of us seems to be coming forward to have the talk, maybe it doesn’t even need to happen. Maybe it’s just implied. I guess that’s why some things are better imagined, and not realized.

Can you make a mistake and miss your fate?

Yes, I quoted Sex and the City (again). Episode 66 – season 4, I Heart NY. One of my favorites. I’ve been asking this question of myself, especially over the last week or so.

When things ended with BV – even though they are still amicable – I knew it was going to be that way. And as easy as it is to go on dates and talk to other guys, I can’t get K – my best guy friend – out of my head. I hooked up with him drunkenly on the Fourth of July, after a million shots of Jameson. It’s still so clear in my mind, though. Then I accidentally got involved with BV, and in a guilt-tripped stupor, “chose” BV instead of K. Mistake mistake mistake.

I met K three years ago at a party I was invited to by a work friend at the time. She was a total douchebag and I’m no longer friends with her, but I am so fucking glad she invited me. I remember being completely absorbed in everything K had to say, and feeling a connection and a little bit of a crush, even though at the time I was in a long-term relationship. We went to the bar and we stayed together the whole night. We sat on a stoop and talked about everything. Exchanged numbers. Over the years we stayed friends, in and out of orbit. Eventually we got closer. Eventually he kissed me one night. I freaked out. I got so angry that my friend – my one platonic guy friend – would move in on me like that, become “one of them,” the guys who wanted me for my looks or my body. Of course, he told me had feelings for me, but I was furious just the same. I don’t know why. It was irrational and I was awful to him and he’d never been anything but wonderful to me.

I told him – and everyone I knew – that he was just a friend, would only ever be a friend, I saw him just that way and nothing more. I told them that it felt like kissing my brother and all wrong. It was so wrong, I reasoned. How dare he. He fucked it up. K was wounded but earnest, and said that he had to take the risk, and couldn’t deny his feelings for me and not act on them. He always told me I was the most beautiful and intelligent woman he knew and that he wanted to date me and treat me the way I deserve to be treated. I’m used to expecting less than stellar treatment. But it was lost on me. I didn’t want him like that, and I really, truly believed it.

When I got my first and only tattoo – a big piece on my upper back – K was there with me for the first session, all three hours. He was there with me and it felt normal and natural. Not just that but afterward he cooked dinner for us – his roommate and his girlfriend. We drank red wine and then when they’d gone, he washed my tattoo and put neosporin on with so much love. I was naked and vulnerable and he treated me with more respect and care than I think I’d ever known or felt in my life. I was so drawn to him and remember texting my former best friend this. “Don’t go to him because it’s easy,” she admonished. So I didn’t. And when my second tattoo session came, I went alone, but my tattooer remarked about K’s easy demeanor. I missed him.

A few months passed, we hung out a little, and then the Fourth happened. For a week or so I burned for K. He was all I wanted or could think about, and I can’t remember ever feeling such fervent desire for a person. My attraction to him has little to do with looks – it is his words, the way his mind works, and his character that draws me to him. It’s more than words can really describe.

Then I chose wrong. BV kind of screwed me over. I’ve gone on other dates. Attracted I may be to other men, even interested and stimulated, but they aren’t K. When he told me it was done, I felt really sad. Like, I knew what was going to happen. A couple weeks ago I confessed to K that I made a mistake… we’ve been back and forth a bit. I tell him I miss him too much. I tell him I’m sorry too much. We don’t interact that often or that much. He’s so hurt and I can sense it. But it’s true, I miss him deeply and profoundly, more than I can remember missing anyone in a  long time, and in a strange way. He doesn’t really know the depth of my feelings. I want so badly the chance to love him properly, to see if he and I are the real thing. Can he ever trust me? Will I ever be a girl that he can be with and not worry about? I don’t know, I really don’t.

K is mysterious and somehow unattainable now. Yet I can sense if we were together and I finally got my shit together and realized OH OKAY, I’M SUPPOSED TO BE WITH MY BEST FRIEND AFTER ALL – things would make sense, finally. “Everyone I know” has been “rooting” for him. He treated me with impeccable care, always. He has the most beautiful soul. He loves my cats. He’s a great cook. He’s a writer, too. He’s smart and sarcastic. He’s shown me things I didn’t know about the world, didn’t know about myself. He’s gentle. Kind. I can see myself with him now, ten years, fifty years. If I’m with him, I can’t imagine wanting anyone else. And this has all dawned on me very, very recently. It feels very…obvious. Strange as it is, after every date, I find myself overwhelmed with rushes of emotion for K, only for K, and that no matter who I go out with, I’m almost being pushed towards him.

I don’t know if he’ll be willing to open up to me again with how I’ve treated him. And I don’t blame him. But he’s coming back to town on Thursday, is willing to see me. Agrees that there’s really nothing more we can discuss over text without seeing each other. So you can bet I’ll be doing everything I can to show him how I feel.

Too little too late

I didn’t write about this when it happened, but several days ago, BV sent me a series of honest text messages. The gist was – he’s very attracted to me and has a blast whenever we hang out but doesn’t feel he’s stable or able to be “there” for me in the way that I need. (True.) He said he’s so sorry but he’s afraid it won’t work out. I responded maturely, then the next morning I got an even longer text – basically he’s going on about how much this sucks, and how he still wants to date me, or be friends, but understands if I say no. He has issues since he was cheated on and is protecting himself from any future pain or drama. I was so relieved that he was upfront since his mechanism up until then had been to just ignore me. So junior high…but I got “closure,” and girls love closure.

I responded… “I’ve learned that only way is to keep your mind/heart open; sometimes it breaks so you can grow. Shutting yourself off to new experiences and relationships is really no way to live. Is it terrifying to take chances? Yup. But worth it? Always. Every relationship, no matter how brief, has something to teach us. I really hope you don’t let a projection from the past (of something that hasn’t even happened yet) hinder your present and future relationships, whether it’s with me or the next girl. I have no intention to enter into an intense thing right now and would have preferred to ‘take it slow.’ It does suck, but if you feel you have nothing to offer, I have to respect that. Of course we can still be friends…”

Radio silence for days – then today I get a text “what are you doing tonight?”

Well, as it happens, I have my first date with my Heterosexual Holy Grail – HHG from match.com. After exchanging a proliferation of sublime emails for about a week, it’s happening. This is a man who’s not only gorgeous in the physical, but appears to be witty, intelligent and thoughtful. He can “wax poetic” about Sex and the City and knows about The Sartorialist. He has excellent taste in music and film but avoids slipping into the realm of pretentiousness. He seems to like me, in spite of what he’s read here (oh shit, thanks Google). Apparently I pull off my salacious tales with “style and grace” and I don’t seem psycho. It’s just way too good to not see what’s up. He could be awful in person, or blatantly unmannered – but he has a an impossibly sexy phone voice so I feel like that’s not going to happen.

For some odd reason, BV got under my skin. My friend observed the absurdness of this the other day. She’s like “you’re so organized with the other guys, but you sound crazy when you talk about him.” Touche. Maybe I liked the idea that we had a “meet cute” story, and we have mutual friends, and he seemed so normal. When I decide I like someone, for whatever reason, he doesn’t even have much to hold up. He can be a player (for all I know, BV was) and a kind of an asshole, not even close to gorgeous, but I’m like a moth to a flame and I have to stop myself for going back in spite of all his blatant shortcomings.

So we have a JoJo situation, I guess-

Your chance has come and gone
and you know, it’s just too little too late
a little too wrong, and I can’t wait
but you know all the right things to say
you know it’s just too little too late

Move in with me, babe

I emailed a guy on match.com today. In his photos – total hipster douche, complete with the deep v and a rather strange shot of him shirtless with the big black framed glasses and a beanie. Okay. Profile? Hilarious! Charming. Intelligent.

ENFJ and other things

I’ve taken the Jung type test before but I forgot what I was, apparently I’m ENFJ too. I don’t typically think of myself as overly extroverted, but maybe I am. According to the website I used ENFJ’s are “anti tattoo” which isn’t necessarily true, at least in my case and yours.Hipster bugs ha ha.

I live a ways from Boston which kind of sucks. But I pretty much live in yoga pants, so there’s that.

-V

[He’d mentioned something about moving bugs from the park to MFA, it would be like a vacation or some weird shit, and of course the Jung/Meyers-Brigg personality test where we both happen to be extroversion, intuition, feeling, judgment]

His response… drumroll please.

V,Before opening up your email I read your profile. You’re absolutely right about the anti-tattoo thing. We love em just fine and we’re both ENFJ’s. I know you’re some ways away and that fucking sucks. I’ll probably really get my hopes up about you and it won’t turn into anything. Here’s why….

Your profile is written out so stylistically. I love it. Us eccentric types really attract one another. Where usually passion is extremely high. I feel that would be us.

Your beanie, your zombie hat, and your smile are all things to admire. It makes me kind of giddy to be honest. You’d be surprised how many creative types there aren’t in Boston compared to NYC.

I wanna dip my toes in the pacific with you. I was planning a trip to London through my company. But might do the west coast instead. Who knows. Are you coming with me?

Are you gonna help me furnish and decorate my North End apartment here in Boston I have all to myself? Are you gonna paint with me and sleep outside with me and stare at stars at night on my rooftop?

Are you gonna help me not burn things coz i can’t cook, sleep next to me every night and wake up next to me every morning? Are you gonna be my intellectually, creative, sexy, and goofy partner in crime? Are you gonna take advantage of my body and walk around naked with me in the apartment and go on adventures and swim out to a sail boat at night by the waterfront with a bottle of cheese and wine?

It’s a bit strange, yes. But I’ve kind of have developed a pretty real crush on you. Coz truth be told I too once upon a time was a seeker of cheap thrills. And over the last couple of years I became more spiritual. Maybe we can talk about it sometime.

Maybe in a perfect dream you’ll leave NH and come live with me. no joking. It’s a city here. You can find a job. I’d be your support. haha. or maybe I’m just the silliest romantic that ever lived. But it’s not silly.

call me babe…

*insert phone number but do not sign name here*

LOL wha?

This may be my favorite psycho email ever. It’s so fucking flattering I can’t help but write back. Maybe I will run off and live with this mysterious man, if I can bring my cats. Ha ha ha.

PS. I  still don’t know what he means by my “zombie hat.” I am dressed in a costume in which I’m disemboweled in one of my photos, but I’m not wearing a hat. Puzzles!

Sex with a side of bacon

So last night, after BV’s blow off, I was a sad cat. I could have gone out and met a new guy, but – that’s not what happened. I’ve been texting a lot with my friend, let’s call him Miles Away, because that’s how far he lives from me. Miles and I “met” on match.com, as has become customary in my dating life. He emailed me initially back in late March. I took a vacation to Georgia in early April, we had still been talking vaguely then. He’d added me on Facebook since he got rid of his match account, and we were “present” in each others lives that way. I think we finally had our first date in late May or Early June sometime, I could be off on the timing. I felt an instant comfort with Miles, but not necessarily an instant attraction. He reminds me TONS of my ex boyfriend Tye. Not exactly of course, but he is a compassionate, long-haired musician with a similar silhouette, mindset, and conversational style. Younger than me by almost two years at 25. We had a great date – but my friend who bar tends at the restaurant where we met vetoed him instantly, and I decided against dating him because he lives with his parents – I mentioned him here briefly. Plus, of course, the distance. Because I value honesty and don’t lead people on, I sent him an email letting him know I just wanted to be friends. And so we were.

Last weekend while BV was being a douche and MIA with his bros, Miles invited me to his friend’s lake house (only 30 minutes from my apartment) for swimming/grilling/drinking. I was a little nervous since I didn’t know anyone. As soon as I got there I was instantly at ease. The house was right by the lake, with a charming red barn and a pasture with horses, goats, chickens and a cow named Bess. Miles’ friends were warm, hospitable and fun. Miles and I sat cheek to cheek on a kitchen chair and listened to Skrillex. I shared my beer and they shared their food – grilled steak, chicken and asparagus right on the lake, enjoyed after a gorgeous swim. I couldn’t quite make up my mind about Miles – I was so impossibly at ease with him, laughter came easily and it was friendly, but I wasn’t exactly crushing…

Add beer. And a hammock. An hour after the sun had set, I was cozied up with him, friends had started a fire and things got cuddly. By the end of the night we had settled together on the futon inside watching Louis CK and Jim Gaffigan, laughing and cuddling again. We spent the night entwined in oversize sweatshirts. I left at 5:30 am as the sun was peeking out over the lake.

It hadn’t really occurred to me to kiss Miles, or do anything with him. It was innocent and PG – not that I felt that I owed anything to BV, but at the time, I had been holding out the deluded hope that he would turn out to not be an ass. Miles and I are pretty good friends these days, which means we text each other almost daily and so when I told him about some shit that was going on, he was an empathetic ear, and offered to come visit me and hang out. I hurriedly tried to get my apartment in order, but when he arrived I was in no makeup with undone hair and painting my nails. We listened to good melodic dubstep (shared love) and he took me to dinner (fried pickles)! During dinner we discussed my hookup with my best guy friend and how I had “chosen away” from him to explore things with BV, and how I had told K how much I regretted my mistake but he wants nothing to do with me. Since Miles was in the friend zone, I had been confiding in him about my romantic liaisons and he was always an honest and kind person to talk to who seemed to genuinely care. He observed that I appear “commitment phobic” and that he’d really like to see me “latch in” with someone. I explained my fears surrounding monogamy and commitment, and how I think I’ll know when I know.

Miles works third shift at a factory, so he would have to leave by 9 pm. I said “you should call out of work,” and he did – I was like, don’t do it on my account – but I’m glad he did. Went back to my place, candles were lit, and When Harry Met Sally conveniently was the film I had out from Netflix. Oh interesting. I love the honesty of that oh so classic movie – “men and women can’t be just friends,” which I think is pretty much, almost entirely true. Miles and I proved that when things inevitably heated up and he kissed me. I didn’t resist. It felt safe. He kissed good, I liked how his hands felt, and he has an impossibly well-muscled body I just had to devour. Sex is wonderful and cathartic and it was much much better than what I’d had with BV, or Nick Tornado (story for another time), or even my [former] best friend K.

He stayed the night and spooned me so good. He got along with my cats, enjoying with me all the cute things they do. According to him I am a “beautiful lady” and the things I say are “adorable.” AND PLUS he was so spiritually conscious. He brought up concepts that I try hard to live by like “what isn’t love is fear,” and how you cannot seek or expect happiness from a romantic relationship or any external source; it comes from within – otherwise you’re fucked. He believes the same things that I do, sort of nouveau Buddhist/new age/A Course in Miracles kind of thing. We could discuss it comfortably without going into long, obnoxious diatribes which I hate. And he isn’t emotionally dead like BV, or emotionally unavailable like M.

Morning came, and I made eggs with bacon and fresh fruit, and Irish Breakfast tea. I was in no makeup again. Today his Facebook status reads “fried pickles and candle light.” Ha ha.

xo,
V

PS: I need to read this book.

The ultimate blow off

My so-called love life has been a swirling, tumultuous mess. I really hope this isn’t a reflection of my internal state or what I think I deserve – because I know I deserve better. BV blew me off. Originally had plans for this Saturday, then he moved them to Sunday because his “buddy” was coming up to visit. He ignored me. All. Weekend. Finally was able to get him to confirm plans yesterday. I also mentioned I was having a bad day, which I was, no response. Not that I expect my man friend to mend my emotional boo-boos, but would be nice to give a shit and be like “what’s wrong?” No. Then today, nothing. Ignored my phone call. Finally I was like, “I get it if you can’t or don’t want to hang, but don’t blow me off and ignore me.” He said “yeah can’t. My buddy’s staying an extra night. Can’t hang out tonight.” That sent me into a bit of a rage.

I said to him something to the effect of, this is shitty, you’re being a dirtbag, and am I wasting my time on you? NO RESPONSE.

I should be able to emotionally process a blow off by this point in my adult dating life. They don’t happen to me often, but I don’t think I’m alone in wanting to know why things happen the way they do. When the shoe is on the other foot, I try to be as straightforward as possible, even if it means hurting someone’s feelings. Yeah, it sucks, but when someone is asking for me to be honest with them, it’s really the least you can do. And BV apparently refuses to do that. It makes me really, really angry. I know he’s not the One, he’s not worth the space in my head to think about.

And so as I write this and try not to cry, because I’m a completely over-sensitive baby – I’ll let you know what else is new. There are other options on the menu (aren’t there always) but I’m just a bit cautious. I just want someone to scoop me up and make it all better. I have options for “dates” even tonight (I had cleared the night for douche BV, fuck!) but haven’t made up my mind if I want to be sorry for myself and watch True Blood with my cats or get gussied up and try to make a good impression on someone else in spite of my bitterness.

Stay tuned,

V