Soul searching…and spinning…

I couldn’t keep my discretion to myself.  I told Twin what happened with my old friend.  Twin was clearly hurt and quietly upset, but handled it well.  I almost thought maybe I hadn’t needed to even tell him, such was his quiet demeanor.  He asked a few basic questions, Was that Thursday when I couldn’t reach you?  Was that pack of cigarettes I asked you about his?

All of which I answered honestly:  Yes, yes, yes….  I’m so sorry.  I really feel horrible.  I’m sick to my stomach.  You deserve much better. So on and so on.

And Twin kept saying, we don’t have to talk about this right now.  I would respond, I’ll lose my nerve if we don’t.  I just feel so dirty and ashamed.

I felt even more like trash when I texted my friend and told him how guilty I felt for what had happened and that I’d felt my boyfriend deserved to know.  And my friend responded, WHAT?!!!   I wasn’t aware you were still dating him.  You didn’t mention it so I assumed you weren’t seeing him anymore or I never would have gone so far. I was hoping to keep seeing you, I just wanted to take it slow because there are kids involved. I really like being with you, sexually and otherwise.  I always have.

I just responded it wasn’t his fault, I was sorry and that I really had some soul searching to do.

OMG….I just suck.  Now, I’ve hurt two people!  And I never intended to hurt anyone!!

The next day Twin asked if we could talk again.  He came over and was so kind and understanding.  So much so, I  just felt worse and worse.  He asked if it was a test; was I testing him?  Did I have feelings for this guy?

I don’t know, Twin.  I’ve been friends with him so long, of course I have feelings for him, but I have no clue exactly what they are.  I mean, I have feelings for you too.  I really care so much about you and I don’t understand how this happened.

Twin talked about how he was scared of his feelings for me after all that his ex-wife had done.  He talked of being in love with me and how difficult it was for him to have such strong feelings. He asked if maybe this was his fault because he wasn’t excessively demonstrative of his feelings for me.

NO!  That’s not it, Twin.  You’re wonderful to me!  And I didn’t want to hear any of this. I just didn’t know the appropriate response.

Then Twin wants to make out…or more… or whatever!  AHHH GEESH! NO, NO, NO!!  WTF?!  This seriously annoys me and my guilt just quadruples at my annoyance.  Ughhhh….I can’t escape this disastrous mess!

Twin and I fall asleep on my sofa.  I’m restless though and have weird dreams and I awake around 4 AM to him trying to kiss me again….OMFG….NOOOOOOOO!

I make excuses and grab my phone.  There’s a text message from late the evening before after I had fallen asleep.  It’s my friend and he has simply texted, I think you and I should be together!  Or at least give it a try.

Whoaaaaaaaaa….my head starts spinning…reeling even!  And Twin is right next to me, so I close the text and toss the phone aside, trying to mask my serious shock and mass confusion.

I really need Twin to leave.  My thoughts, my emotions were swirling around so fast I felt like the world was turning so fast.

I knew there has always been a huge chemistry between my friend and I, from the moment we were introduced, there was electricity.  We had gone on a few dates years ago even after we first met, but I was still carrying on with my ex-boyfriend (THE ex….the absolute one and only love of my life), so I was emotionally unavailable to the extreme.  Thus, it never went anywhere, except to create some friction between friend and I for a while.

And since then, I’ve just never thought of dating friend.  Yeah, the attraction is undeniable and perhaps I should have realized that once my vastly resilient bond to THE ex-boyfriend loosened, that this might happen.  I just wasn’t thinking…..obviously.  I mean clearly NOT thinking AT ALL.

GAWDDDD, what a mess I’ve made!

Kindly define “slut”, please? (emphasis on KINDLY)

I should wear this as a fair warning!

Oh the shame…  I am a POS for sure! What the FUCK is the matter with me? I freakin’ define the essence of a hypocrite!  Everything I believe in and hold dear as a moral conscientious way of life, I just defy as though it’s merely a challenge to see how far I can go to disgust myself.

Yuk.  I am yuk.

Twin is so terrific!  So kind to me.  So what I clearly don’t deserve.

I finally, after a great deal of asking, conceded to hang out with a guy I’m friends with, whom I did have sex with a few times long ago.  I really wanted to be friends with this guy, as we always have fun together…

Wait, maybe that’s just fun sex?  There was a point in time after I first met this guy that I thought perhaps I might actually be into him.  Into him as in like him, want something with him, etc., etc…

But I really don’t think I do.  I mean, I like some things “about” him.  I like that he is motivated and driven for self-improvement.  I like that he’s a dedicated father to his son. His looks are just a bit above okay; definitely not my kinda gorgeous, but appealing for sure.

I don’t like:  he is pretentious, talks of money constantly ( umm…a HUGE no-no from where I come from; one does not speak of money – it’s “trashy”): as in who has it, who doesn’t,  how much he hopes to make..  He’s a name-dropper (Oh GAWDDDD!).

WTF?

He kept saying, we have to hang out, Kay, when are you free Kay?, what are you doing this weekend Kay?  Want to meet up for happy hour Kay?

And I kept dodging it.  Why?  Because I know that I like having sex with him.  I know that he really likes having sex with me.  I know that I’m not so into sex with the Twin…and I get that this combination is simply a recipe for disaster under the circumstances.  No, he’s not the ex by far, but well, yeah, he’s a definite runner-up.

After months of dodging, I finally deceived myself into hanging out with him and submerging myself in the denial of I can keep it non-physical. However, disinterested in Twin I am physically, I’m not “that” girl.  I’m no cheater, scandalous vixen.  I’ve no desire to hurt Twin.  No desire to disrespect him or his kindness. No ability to tread on his heart like I’m incidentally squashing a bug under my shoe (which I ironically actually try to avoid in itself as well- literally).

No.  I am scum after all.  I cheated on Twin. I feel disgusted with myself.  And gosh, NOW how can I attempt a healthy sexual relationship with Twin??  With all this guilt and shame of cheating?

Did I cheat?  You know what sucks to me about relationships at this era in my life?  How do you know?  What are the boundaries of the unspoken?  It’s not like back in the younger years where you ask, Will you be my girlfriend (i.e., meaning will you not date anyone else?).  That doesn’t seem to be said outright.  It’s more of an unspoken thing, I think?

Because the only semi-conversation about this I’ve had with Twin was when my girlfriend’s buddy was hard core hitting on me one night when I wasn’t with Twin and she says to Twin a few days later, I think you’ve got some competition.  To which Twin replies, Kay’s a big girl.  She can make her own choices.

I don’t know what that means!  I like the non-possessive stance!  I like the implied trust (oh geesh, did I just say TRUST?) factor of that response.  I like the adult-like feeling of hey, yup, we are grown -ups now.  No one can force another to be faithful.  It’s always a choice. There is no sense in tantrum throwing insane jealousy behavior.  We are not chained.  It’s a choice we make to be together, to be faithful.

I really liked Twin’s response to this little gauntlet thrown by my friend.  Perfect response actually!

So, does this mean I owe Twin a confession of my spontaneous (yes my denial is still in there!) tryst with Mr. Pretentious?  What will Twin do?  Will he just say, Choice made dear…see ya…?  Will he just think, Hmm…so it’s all fair game now? YAY??!!  Will he say, Wow!  You’re just a nasty hateful tramp, huh?  F*$# off Kay! And if so, might that be for the best?

I don’t know.  I mean, I really don’t know!  I can only imagine it certainly won’t feel good for Twin. I’m positive it’s not going to give him that warm, loving, trusting (EEK…there it is again!) feeling…

I’m sure anyone who reads my blog or has gotten to know me somewhat through my confessions here might be disgusted with me after this.  I don’t blame you.

How dare I date?  How dare I try to presume the stance of being a nice person just hoping to meet a nice guy to spend some quality time with?  How dare I?!

In spite of the clear lack of morals I’ve demonstrated with this, I’m not one who holds guilt well.  My shame will always tell on me.  I mean, I really DO have a conscience which desires to harm nothing; to treat others as I hope to be treated, to always tread softly in regard to people’s feelings.

My head spins heavy among daggers of guilt, fear and not knowing the damage (or lack thereof?) done.

Ewwwwww….I’m yukky and disgraceful.  Selfish and scandalous.

I’m really sorry.

Crazy Psycho Stalker Bitches UNITE

Running search engine terms stats in previous 24 hours:

M:  119

Nude midgets: 2 (and seriously, wtf does my blog have about THAT?)

Twizzlers: 1

Oh yeah...they're out there!

Twist of fate.  I wrote a post awhile back (FB aka SNWMD (social networking weapon of mass destruction) about what a FBUW I am and this lovely redhead who got irate because I posted, “hey, what’s up?” on her boyfriend’s FB page.  As ridiculous as that response was, I respected it and opted not to post on my friend’s (her boyfriend) page again.

Shortly after that time, I went to the beach with this couple and we had a really nice day.  I was a little leery of Red and her possible insane jealous side, but I was really grateful to get the chance to know her a little.  After all, I’ve been friends with her guy for a super long time and I’d prefer we just get along.  Nothing too friendly occurred, but hey, it was a step in a positive direction.

I respected her “jealousy” and ceased posting anything at all on her man’s page.  I even friended her on FB in a show of complete truce-making spirit.  It’s been almost a year since the FB comment which set her off and I felt things were at a more even keel when I finally again posted something light hearted and innocent on my FB page regarding her boyfriend. I hadn’t seen him in a while and he just recently returned from a trip abroad when I ran into him, literally in passing,  and we shared a brief exchange.

I was walking out the door of my local Cheers-type pub.  He was just coming in and I said, Hey L…now that you’ve travelled the world, you probably don’t think I’m the wittiest girl you know anymore huh?  I say this as I give him a hug and continue on to the parking lot.  He quips back to me, Ahhhhh….don’t fret, Kay, you’re still definitely in my top three wittiest people ever!”

I squeal with delight as I jump in my car, I’m still in!  I’m still in!

It’s playful.  It’s fun.  It’s very brief and even more innocent.  And that is that.

So feeling confident that Red no longer sees me as the threat she did a year ago, I boast on FB about this little compliment, tagging L in said post.  “After flitting about the world a bit, my dear friend L still says I’m still in the top three wittiest people.  Oh how I heart a person who can appreciate my wit!”

I don’t see anything wrong with this post and I actually feel confident Red will click “like” on it and/or make a witty comment about it.  She’s pretty witty herself from what I can tell…beyond the jealousy bit.

What I don’t expect was an outright vicious attack on me right there, in FB public!!  All random and psycho like for the FB world to see, i.e., my friends, family, co-workers, etc, etc.  Geesh, do I underestimate the insanity of Red-Hot jealousy or what?!  Yeah, I do. Ummm…..M is for MORTIFIED!

Red calls me narcissistic and vain and brings up how she feels I exercise no boundaries because I applied sunscreen to her boyfriend’s back that day at the beach!

WHAT?  Is this for freakin’ real?  I’m taken aback, flustered, mortified, and enraged all at once.  Are you kiddin’ me?  I didn’t post anything out of line or inappropriate.  I didn’t say, Dear friends, family, and random co-workers, my friend L thinks I’m the hottest chick in the universe, or the most desirable, or the greatest, or the sexiest kitten ever.  Nope.  Just that I’m witty damnit.  Yeah, just witty.  And hell, not even the wittiest of them all, but just still in the top three.  WTF?!

So Red and I have an (OMG!) little drama fest on FB, posting back and forth about this craziness. I should have merely deleted my post, I know….  Yet, I just felt after her wordy, scathing attack, to delete it was somehow to concede to the truth of her words.  Thus, I did not take the high road and I simply continued to defend my innocent and light-hearted, non-malicious and non-threatening post.

As this embarrassingly continued, I did realize on several occasions, trying to win an argument with a paranoid psycho-crazy jealous chick was not a sane battle at all.  After all, I had reason and sanity on my side.  Whereas she, had paranoia and imagination on hers.  Not a good battle to participate in.  It’s much like taking a knife to a gun slinging show down.  Ya just don’t have all the right ammunition for this particular battle.

Finally, a mutual friend intervenes and reminds us how truly ridiculous this all is and we quiet down.  In addition, Red posts about all kinds of challenges she’s faced while dating my very well liked, sociable, and VERY friendly friend.  And I really feel bad. REALLY bad!  I had no idea that so many women had swarmed my buddy while he dated her.  And suddenly I felt compassion for her craziness and pondered the possibility that, like me at another point in my dating life, she had suffered enough insecurity and challenge in this relationship to possibly bring her to the brink of sanity.  Hell, I’ve been there, crossed into that world of sheer freakin’ madness, and finally returned, albeit forever altered as a human being,  carrying the mental and emotional scars that kind of relationship can create, if we allow them.

And I feel for her situation, her madness, and even her insane level of jealousy.  I see my post from another angle and although I still see it as completely faultless and truly innocent, I suddenly can understand how a mind already damaged from jealousy might see it and overreact.

Finally, L himself responds to this thread.  He comes to my defense about the sunscreen application, but in so doing, he inadvertently shows it as an intentional maneuver on his part.  It seems Red had applied sunscreen to a friend of his one day when  I wasn’t there and L was a bit jealous, so he asked me to apply it to him in front of Red.  I’m sure in an attempt to provoke the jealousy he already knew she had for my relationship with him.  Ughhh!  I’m a pawn in the chess game of their dysfunctional relationship!  And I feel used and dirty!

…And I feel even worse for Red, as this mean trick shows itself fully in the naked light of L’s inadvertent confession.  Poor Red.  No wonder she’s freakin crazy!!  He’s trying to make her that way!!  That rat bastard friend of mine!  As much as I love my friend (and I truly do), being a woman…being a woman who has been on the other end of these maddening games…a woman who always tried to rise above jealousy and jealousy games… I ultimately have to pick the side of the female on this one.  Every time.  Yeah, I have to have the chick’s back on this and call bullshit shenanigans.  Way too many passive aggressive men have instigated this garbage only to calmly sit back and laugh with friends about “some psycho chick”.  Fuck that!  No.  I want NO part of that crap. And I’ll not take being used like that kindly.  Oh HELL no!

I went to bat for Red in a conversation with L and told him in no uncertain terms that I did not approve or appreciate being put into that kind of passive aggressive meanness.  We women have it tough enough being in competition with the world for so many things:  Men, jobs, dating, looks, money, security, weight; God, it’s hard enough to be female in this damned world.  I will not go against a woman in the “make her look like a psycho crazy chick to feed my dull minded limp male ego” game! NUHHHH UHHHHH!

So I had drinks and conversation with L Friday night.  Told him I loved him to pieces but did not appreciate that garbage.  And then I had a three hour heart-to-heart with Red Saturday morning.  I like her.  I feel badly that I was ever put in that position, as I’m the least threat to her ever and that kind of jealousy toward my friends-only friendship with L was just unwarranted and a mean, mean trick.

Strangely enough, I’ve heard from a few people that Red actually is a “whack job” (yes, that’s a quote). And I’m a diehard for the underdog about these things because I still have to give her the benefit of the doubt until she shows her whacked self to me in a situation where I don’t happen to find out it was instigated by another’s sly maneuvers of insecurity.  I also realize these things usually come around to bite me in the ass in a very nasty way, but for the freakin’ jack ass guy who played similar shit-shenanigans on  me a few years back, I just hope at least one person he bragged about me being his psycho stalker (or whatever the hell lying ass phrase he used) might have stopped just for a moment to question before stitching that unfair and untrue label on me:  yeah, that looked kind of crazy, but what in the hell happened just before she responded that way?!  Damnnnn, that dude must have really fucked with that chick’s head….

Right.  So probably not.  It’s doubtful many people stop to ponder that far into things which have little to do with them.  They’re most likely just excited to seize a terrific piece of juicy gossip to make themselves feel superior about their own little miserable worlds.  So, evven though I can’t possibly know if these things ever do really come full circle into karmic justice, but hell, I have to do what I can to see that they do……..for all the “psycho stalker chicks” out there in the world!

This one might be nice...

Now, I just have to come up with the secret handshake for our club.  …Or maybe we can all just get machetes tatooed on our chest.

FB aka SNWMD (social networking weapon of mass destruction)

Saturday night I hit my local little neighborhood tavern for some live music, dancing, and social interaction. Walk in with my friend, S, and her husband. Not too busy here yet, but I’m happy to be among friends. S immediately sees another chick she knows. I don’t know said chick, but after they’re finished with their hello hugs, I smile and say “Hi”, reaching out my hand and introducing myself properly in that oh-look-we-have-a-mutual-friend friendly way. I can’t help but notice mutual friend chick happens to be a beautiful woman with vivid red hair…just gorgeous! Yay Chickie!

Ms. Chickie-poo instantly gives me a look. Eeeek… And I mean a look: a hateful, I wish I could shove you down a 500 foot razor blade slide and land you into a pool of rubbing alcohol kinda look. Whoaaaaa! I’m absolutely thrown…wtf? I don’t even know you lady…what is your problem here? Let me tell ya, it was NOT subtle in any way either. It was bold, blatant, and totally unapologetic. It was so horrendous, the nasty smell of sheer hate instantantly permeated around us; she had a look on her face which even resembled the twisted, painful look one might have were one trapped in an elevator full of horribly offensive gas. It happened so instantaneously and noticeably that even S stepped back a bit in surprise. Yeah…awwwwkwarrd!
I didn’t ask any questions. I’m not 9 anymore; I refuse to deal with these type of senseless things. Weird as hell? Ummm yeah. Do I really give a damn? Nahh. I just accept my fate-of-hate and go have a seat alone several feet away, giving the two their space to catch up, chat, hug, and whatnot. I’m certain I don’t know her at all and therefore, whatever the problem is, it is without a doubt, her problem and has nothing at all to actually do with me.

Few moments later, S comes to sit next to me and says, “wow..that was uncomfortable” Yeah, ya think? What’s her deal?

Apparently, I “know chickie-poo’s boyfriend”. Hmm…I do? Okay….I know lots of people…that could certainly be…but…umm….still, what the hell?

Yeah, it gets better… Not only do I apparently know Ms. Chickie-poo’s loverface, but I (brace yourself here people because all lines of morals, boundaries, and common decency are just about to get crossed, eliminated, skipped over, and possibly destroyed)…

I not only know loverface, but I (deep breath)…..……POSTED ON HIS FACEBOOK WALL!

And you know what? I really did! Yeah, I did this. I posted on her loverface’s wall. Yup, right there for all to see I typed four or five words essentially saying, hello, how are things with ya… RIGHT ON HIS FACEBOOK. I admit to this debauchery. Yes, I am a Facebook Whore. I confess I’m just wicked to the core like that. Mmmhhmm. Call the firing squad, grab the noose, gather the town folk, hold onto your husbands, brothers, computers, hooker stilettos…snatch your loved one’s password and quickly get to the business of friend editing. Go ahead and start embroidering those three scarlet red letters “FBW” too!

Because. I. Am. Guilty. As. Hell. Here.

Yeahhh….and you wanna know something else? I’m not even sorry. I don’t feel guilty. And yeah dammit, I’d do it again. I mean, I WILL do it again. Go ahead, pin those damned letters right on me. There’s no shame in my Facebook game. I post on people’s walls. I do it pretty much every day…sometimes several scandalous times a day even….yeah. And I’ve no intention of stopping. Beware: you (or worse yet your lova’face!) could be next!

So after this little “faux pas” of mine was explained to me via S, Chickie-poo proceeds back over to “chat” with S and me. And wow she was on a mission!  I lost count after like the 17th time she said “my boyfriend”. Umm, you know my boyfriend. Yeah, you posted on my bofriend’s facebook the other day. My boyfriend is over at the —– right now. I’m goin to call my boyfriend and tell him I met you……blah, blah, blah… I mean, she was making it cleeeee-year that she did indeed have a “boyfriend” and that he was, without a doubt, her possession. Okie dokie Chickie-poo! I’m not so big on the labeling thing, so it was pretty clear to me that not only was Ms. Chickie quite insecure, but she and I had some fundamental differences which might get directly in the way of she and I becoming BFF’s anytime soon. Awww…pity…

This lovely little incident came immediately following another FB incident only a day or so earlier in which another innocent FB post got me in “trouble”. I was recently accused of dating a friends’ ex-boyfriend…for the following three reasons: 1. Ran into boyfriend twice in one week (oops! But geesh it IS a small town!); 2. We re-united as FB friends (he didn’t make the cut of my last edit but it was nothing personal); and 3. I posted “great to run into you this weekend!” RIGHT ON HIS FACEBOOK PAGE!

Uh huh.

So my friend then “intelligently” deduced from this cryptic happenstance that we are “dating”. Yeah, this one’s a real Einstein/Sherlock to say the least. Maybe I shouldn’t mention a few key points, but I’m gonna anyway. 1. I’ve known her ex for many years before I knew her at all and didn’t want him then just like I don’t want him now; 2. She is pregnant and engaged to another man; and 3. My reasons for being (gasp!) TWICE in the same place as her ex had zilch to do with her ex man, but just so happened to be because “J” hangs out in the same little local spot…and yes, I WAS there hanging out with J…flirting shamelessly and for the most part totally unaware of any other males around me. Apparently she didn’t get that key part of the local gossip.

And again the irony is overwhelming. There I am, hanging out with Jane’s ex fiancé, really digging him and feeling (almost) guilty about that…at least too guilty to actually tell anyone ( and not even J!) that I’m secretly only there to hang out with J. Her ex coulda been right in my face and I’d not have given him the time of day. I was way preoccupied on both curiously coincidental run-ins with her ex… Too busy flirting with another friends’ ex…GOSH, I have some standards dammit…only one friend’s ex at a time, thank you. Facebook, on the other hand, I have no limits to the comments I might post and no boundaries as to said person’s relationship status. It’s freakin’ Facebook people, a social utility! As long as I’m not posting something like, Baby last night was the greatest!  Come do me again tonight, or some similar sleazy, telling post on your boyfriend’s wall(and trust me, I never would post such a thing – no matter the underlying circumstances!),  then do us all a favor and get over it before you make an ass out of yourself!

But this crazy ass girl with obviously way too much time on her hands is absolutely certain I’m dating her ex! She texts me: Guess you like my leftovers. I’m not stupid. Ohhh well, time to get rid of more backstabbing bitches… that’s secifically her very words!  Yeah, If it wasn’t so pathetic, it would be hysterically funny. No wait, I guess it IS still pretty damned funny!

I feel like a drama magnet! Sometimes I reflect on this kind of seemingly chronic irony and drama which is a sad, but apparently unavoidable, aspect of my life in small town Midwest. Does anyone else get so much bullshit on such a regular basis merely by their existence and/or their presence? I can’t imagine so… Does anyone else instigate this much freakin’ drama without any effort whatsoever? And I mean NO effort. These two men hold zero interest or intrigue for me. In fact, each of them has at several points in our respective long-term platonic friendships made attempts at initiating something beyond friendship, but I was never interested. Not to sound arrogant or anything, but these two particular men, I could have had at any given time in the past ten years or so. Therefore, I’m not these silly little girls’ rival. Girls, girls…I don’t want your men or your ex-men. Sweet, sweet, ignorant, insecure, little darlings, trust me, if I wanted either of them, I would have them already. I am no threat to you, okay?  Bless your little hearts!!

PSA: Everyone can turn loose of their husbands, ex-husbands boyfriends, ex-boyfriends, crushes, and might someday be crushes, your mailmen, your trainers, your brothers, and your kindergarten playground pals from days gone by; you can cease creeping all over my FB page doing amateur investigative work; I’m totally and unequivocally digging only one friend’s ex…and geesh am I digging him…Ohhh my stars!! Updates on that (yeah, my actual moral debauchery) soon to come…:)

And please allow me to offer you two and the other plethora of females out there like you a glorious priceless gift of wisdom which has been handed down for generations in my family.  And please, take notes because it’s highly likely that you’re not of the upper echelon of intellectual beings.

Jealousy is so vastly unattractive that you’d be better off to pack on an extra 100 pounds. And insecurity is like growing a quarter-sized hairy old wart smack dab on the end of your nose. They are senseless, ugly crosses to bear…put them down. I promise you, you’re not avoiding or defeating anything with these two ridiculous relationship- killing, character-telling notions. Let them go!

Does The Code even exist anymore? Okay, did it ever?

I’ve committed to the “code” since junior high. You know the one.  If your friend likes or dates a guy, he’s forever stricken from the okay to date category.  I’ve wondered over the years though, if perhaps I took this “code” too much to heart?  It started in the seventh grade when coincidentally every boy I developed a crush on, my “BFF” suddenly liked him too.  It was so weird!!  I’d start chatting with some boy in a class, start to think he was cute or funny or whatever, tell my best friend (because that’s what you do) and lo and behold… within 24 hours, my BFF would have this “dilemma”.  Gosh Kay, I’ve been meaning to tell you for a few days now that I like so-and-so.

Ahhhhh well crap….  He’s off the list.  Can’t crush on him…must avoid all flirtation.  This crazy coincidence started to get a little suspicious about our junior year of high school.  It was just too BIZARRE…every single guy I even thought about liking, my BFF always confessed she’d been crushing on him since the day or two before me!!!  Uncanny for all those years, huh?! There were two crushes in four years whom “M” (my BFF) hadn’t crushed on just before me.  One went to a different school than we and “M” had never met him and the other always called “M” a fat cow or something equally as mean or harsh.  In fact those two actually had a physical altercation once; they hated each other so much!  I had to play referee so many times between these two and always felt guilty that he was so mean to my BFF, but shamefully happy that finally I liked someone my BFF didn’t like first. 

This chronic coincidence just flabbergasted me for years!  I had suspicions, but always denied them.  Until I moved out of state my senior year and less than a month later, my BFF was dating the guy I had dated…the one whom she had fought with all the time.

Okay, yeah….so it takes me awhile sometimes to see the writing on the wall.  In hindsight I realize this was a fun game for my BFF.  It simply raised the stakes and created a bigger challenge for her in the crush department to coincidentally like the same guy as I.

This has been a repetitive occurrence in my life in one way or another and over the many, many years of betrayals and coincidences, I realize that I just might be the only female I know living by the unofficial credo of friendship…but, it’s never been a huge choice for me.  Friends always come first; guys were a dime a dozen.  Ohhhh…you kinda like that one?  Ohh and that other one flirted with you last month?  Ahh geesh…okay, I’m out then.  I see no need to compete with friends for guys.  Okay honey, you have him….and I’m on to something or someone else.  No big.  There is no competition because I refuse to engage.  In fact, I usually start looking around for a lovely silver platter to hand whatever guy over to them.

Ahhh the stories I could tell!  However, there’s really only one of these experiences which is pertinent at the moment.

I’ve been friends with “Jane” for about seven years or so now.  We go back and forth between inseparable for a bit to just lunch once a week depending on our life happenings at any given time.  Jane is totally different from me and I’m okay with that.  Jane is a major partier and has looser standards sexually than I tend toward, but I’ve kinda thought these differences made our friendship work even better.  We sound things off to each other and get entirely different perspectives.  I like to think that she pulls me a little more to the spontaneous and crazy side and maybe I pull her somewhat to the more responsible side….a nice balance for the most part.

The only real challenge here is that since I’ve become friends with Jane, it’s become increasingly difficult to meet any male (or female) with whom Jane has not had sexual relations. Two major episodes:

I meet cute military guy four years ago.  I was undecided about anything big with him, but I liked him and was at least interested in seeing where I might want it to go.  I wasn’t blabbing about him to my friends because I wasn’t sure if I wanted as much of a commitment as MG expressed he wanted. We had been seeing each other for only a month or so when he returned to his base in Kansas City. …Commence the chronic texting and phone calls.  I was enjoying this and starting to like him more and more.  After he left for base, Military guy would get frustrated when I was out with friends and my phone would die.  So one night in the midst of a huge texting session with MG while I was out with Jane, I say, Hey, put this number in your phone so that when my phone dies, MG won’t get mad at me that I just suddenly disappeared and stopped texting.  She says, Oh, I have that number already.  And knowing Jane as I do, I immediately knew exactly what she meant.  I was a little bummed, but waited till the next day to ask MG about this… Yeah, she and MG had had a sexual fling a few years back which had lasted a week or two.  Well, given that my interest in MG was only slightly above mild at this point, I decided to end it.  MG was pissed and hates me to this day for this but whatever…  It just feels too awkward for me to date a guy my friend has been intimate with and holds the number in her phone as a booty call.  Not interested.  No thanks.

Three years ago, I ran into a guy whom I’d met years ago on the beach.  We had been beach buddies years earlier but never super close otherwise.  So I run into him randomly after it had been a while.  He asks me out to dinner and I agree to go and over the next few months, we started actually dating. One night I couldn’t go to a concert with him because I had plans with Jane. He says, Ahh, I know Jane!  Yeah, of course you do. Ohhh shit…  I ask him about the nature of their association.  He’s very blunt in that they had gone to dinner once seven years earlier, had a nice time, but neither was romantically interested in the other (they just hadn’t “clicked) so they had decided not to go out again, but to be friends…and not with sexual benefits…just friends. Well more like acquaintances since they didn’t really hang out together, but just would chat if they ran into each other.

Soon after this conversation,  I tell Jane that I’ve been seeing him and that I might actually like him.  This is critical to say to her at this point because since Love of My Life Guy and I had split, I really hadn’t even entertainedmuch thought of developing anything truly serious with anyone.  I rarely even could agree to go on a date with anyone for quite some time after the split.  Jane knew all about this and how I had struggled to meet anyone I liked enough to seriously date and consider committing to since that horrific experience.  Thus, it was important that I actually tell Jane where I stood about this guy. And she’s all, That’s great!  He’s such a nice guy Kay!  I’m so glad to see you giving someone a chance finally…etc, etc, etc…

So it got a little weird when she started calling me from the deck of his beach house and inviting me over to “join them” for cookouts and whatnot.  I was totally thrown!  What is going on?  I’m actually dating him and this feels awkward.  She’s inviting ME over to MY boyfriend’s house?  And, why is she over there without me anyway?  No one mentioned a cookout to me!?  They’ve known each other over seven years and never hung out at his house!  Why would they now that I’m dating him?  After the third of these “invites”, I couldn’t shake the weirdness.  Jane’s a pretty woman and I just guessed that somehow maybe being mutual friends with me had reconnected them and he had decided he actually was interested in her… and obviously more than me…

This one bummed me out a little more than Military Guy, but hey, this is my friend…whatever…  If he likes her and vice-versa, then I’m out.  I just stopped taking Beach Guy’s calls because it all seemed too creepy.  I temporarily distanced myself from Jane too because I was a little hurt over this, but we remained friends and I just never said anything about any of it to her…or him.  C’est la vie.  Bygones.

A year ago, I randomly run into Beach Guy who interrogates me as to why I blew him off.  I’m honest and say, Jane was hanging out at your house a lot inviting me over and it felt weird so I accepted that you changed your mind and decided you wanted to date her.  I wasn’t going to make a big fuss.  She’s my friend, you’re a great guy…I want both of you to find happiness.  It’s all good. And he looks bewildered….  He says, WHAT?!  Kay, I really liked you…I thought we had something pretty cool going and you just blew me off completely.  After the first time you brought Jane over with you, she just started showing up at my house with groceries wanting to cook out.  I would assume you must be meeting her here or something..it was just so weird..and when I’d ask her where’s Kay, she’d always say, Let’s call her and invite her over.

I might sound stupid and that could be accurate, but after much discussion, Beach Guy and I figured out that this wasn’t a very nice thing Jane did to me…and ultimately to him either.  I believe that BG had no clue what the hell kind of game Jane was playing.  He was trying to be gracious to her because she was my friend.  By the time he figured out what was probably going on, I had stopped taking his calls and he thought I just wasn’t interested in him anymore. 

This kinda sucked and I began questioning Jane’s friendship and perhaps even the ability of a totally promiscuous kinda chick like her even being capable of real friendship with another girl. Around this time, Jane had kinda disappeared from my life anyway, so nothing needed to be addressed; I just let it go.

When Jane shows back in my life, she’s all excited that she’s been dating some really young guy and it’s getting serious!  That’s why she’d stayed away for so long…totally preoccupied with this new young guy…and she talked at length about how young he was, as if that in itself was some medal of honor or achievement.  I was so excited for her! He sounds like a terrific guy and maybe just what she needed to settle it down a little.  I met him soon after and realized he really WAS a terrific guy.  I was very happy for them both when they got engaged and moved in together.

She didn’t stop her sexual roll though.  That continued and she’d brag to me about how he would always forgive her.  She just had to tell him how drunk she was when the indiscretions occurred and he’d let it go.  I was sad for him, but happy for her that he was such a passive forgiving guy…perfect for her…just the kind she needed!

I felt more and more badly for him though as I witnessed personally how often she got drunk and messed around on him….with his friends, with strangers, with ex-lovers…started to seem like anyone would do to cheat on this innocent, nice guy. But, hell, if he was okay with that, who was I to think it was sad or wrong?  Anyway,  I wasn’t totally surprised when a few weeks after I moved to Vegas, she called to tell me she was breaking up with him because she wasn’t going to stop the cheating… Ohhhh AND she’d met an even younger guy and they were having some serious fun.  She and her ex-fiancé Jay would remain friends though. Awwww…how absolutely delightful for him!  Poor guy…

Then, a week after I returned to Michigan, I invited Jane over one evening late.  I had a guy friend here with me.  I’d known this guy for years, but we’d never dated or had anything together…  I did have a little crush on him.  I’d never told him or anyone about that though.  Jane drags ex-fiance  Jay over with her and we’re all hanging out.  Jane’s flirting outrageously with my guy friend and he is with her too.  It’s late and Jay just goes to bed in the guest room.  I pull Jane aside and say, Hey, I don’t think it’s very cool to do that to Jay and besides, I might sorta like this other guy.  Could you please not be with him?

Yeah, I verbatim said, “Could you please not be with him?”  Oh of course she won’t!  He’s “way too old for her anyway”, she says.  …FYI, he happens to be exactly our age…

To sum up this long as hell story, guess what?  Yeah….I’m sure you see where this situation went!  Jane can’t help herself….and after leaving them alone briefly, I return and yeah, it’s “on” for them.

Ohmyeffingawd… I had just freakin’ had it with this crap!  I told jerk-ball to leave and I was just mad, mad, mad at Jane!  Jay hears the commotion and comes out.  He’s not an idiot.  He gets it of course.  He knows exactly what happened.  He may be way younger than I, but he clearly “’gets” this kinda thing far more quickly than I.  It’s pretty much just a sad and unfortunate scene for all three of us…for different reasons…

So…Saturday night I get together with a group of friends for cards.  Jay is one of them.  I’m so glad he and I might become friends.  He’s just fun and a really terrific person!  We have a great time and he ends up crashing over here on the sofa with me.  Nothing happened!!

The next day after he leaves,  we are texting funny stuff back and forth..both tired and silly after too much fun the night before.  Then, I get this text from him that says, okay, I’m going to get a little weird on you here, but last night when we were curled up on the sofa, I really wanted to kiss you. I didn’t though because we had both been drinking.

OMG…I truly did NOT know what to say!!!  My mind is racing and I’m just speechless.  While I’m thinking through this, Jay sends a few more apology texts:  “Sorry, told you I was going to get weird”, “Sorry, I’m probably still just drunk”, “Sorry I’m a retard who can’t text properly right now”, “Sorry, I really just had to get that off my chest”…

And I’m thinking, OMGOMGOMG….I’d never thought about anything like this before.  I mean, sure he’s sexy and smart…and funny…and all around the kind of guy I’d normally really like…but…but…OMG?!!?!!

So, I text him back with my conscience debating and my heart racing,  Please don’t say you’re sorry.  I kinda wish you had kissed me.  And he responds, Oh good!!!…that long pause scared me!!  But my phone is dying and I’m having drinks with friends so we’ll talk about this later.

Jay and I haven’t discussed this yet.  I really don’t know how I feel about this.  From married guys to my friends’ ex??  It’s just a  mess.  What the hell is the matter with me?!!  I honestly don’t know if I think this would be wrong or not and that in itself scares the hell out of me!!  Is life throwing me these constant curve balls for some freakin’ reason?  Is this all random?  Are these life tests? Character tests??  WTF?!???   Umm…I think I’d better get back to the “safety” of that whole online thing and I’ll be damned if that’s not a contradiction in terms!

I don’t know what’s going to happen here with this recent sitch.  Is it ever okay to break the code?  Am I running through previous history with Jane just to convince myself this might not be totally wrong to do…just in case…?  Anyway, maybe Jay was just drunk and didn’t even know what the hell he was talking about?  Maybe it was just a random spontaneous meaningless notion that will disappear as quickly as it came to him?  No clue.  I am reminded reg ularly though that life has a twisted sense of humor.  AND, I’m beginning to realize too that if this is all just a life test, I just might be running out of the right answers!

Hot Stranger Boys, Cliché’s, and those confounding timeless questions of life

Am I in a downward spiral and don’t know it?  Has the incessant spiraling now become too standard for me to realize what I’m doing and perhaps I’m too dizzy to be aware of what’s happening?  Wait…is this the frog boiling on the stove analogy happening as I type? 

A few details:

ABD is a  super nice guy, way laid back, didn’t meet him online, but through a friend.  I don’t know his actual age, but I’m confidently guessing him at somewhere in the vicinity of ten years older than I or more.  I don’t want that to matter.  I want to focus on nice guy…not at all bad looking, unmarried, and seems so very kind (in fact it is his computer on which I type this).  We had drinks together in a small group one evening shortly after I returned.  He felt as though he knew me before…ummmm, I’m pretty sure not.  I’m horribly forgetful, but I don’t usually forget faces and I didn’t recognize him by any means. 

Wasn’t at all interested in dating him, but enjoyed hanging out with him.  Then I was coaxed pushed into going on a double date to a Halloween party with him. I had a nice time.  It was fun to flirt and just relax for a while…still not interested in him at all though!  Afterward, he offers to let me use his extra laptop for a while.  This is terrific, as I love to write and my daughters need a computer for a lot of their homework assignments.  So of course, I gratefully accepted…and now he emails and calls regularly.  I feel guilty that I don’t want to see him or hang out.  The naked truth is I’m not all that interested in seeing most anyone or hanging out much at all really.  Too much going on personally, so much I’m dealing with, with the children, and my stress level automatically prioritizes.  Dating someone or even just hanging out with a guy who is interested that way while I’m not, just feels like a lot more added stress and guilt on an already over-loaded situation.

He has gotten insistent a few times and I just keep throwing my excuses at him…  What??  They’re valid!  They are!  Okay yeah, so maybe they also happen to be convenient excuses to not go out with a guy I’m really not interested in anyway but who is just so nice, I wish I could be interested.  He’s also a quite the pot smoker, which I’m not at all.  I don’t judge his choice for the marijuana bit (to each his own), but add that he rides a Harley and wears his greying hair in a ponytail…these things somehow add to his age in my mind.  Maybe he should seem younger than his age, but in reality (well, my reality), these things make him appear the “Aging Biker Guy”.  I was never one for pot, but I do recall a few bad-boy stoner/biker guys from high school and college who I secretly crushed on. I kinda liked thewhole  James Dean-ish  image thing, but I never would have dated one…even then! Somehow now, and at his age, it all just screams of the ridiculous.  I struggle to take the image he presents seriously….it almost makes me giggle at the cliché.  Yet, I don’t believe he’s trying for this cliché thing; it seems to be who he’s always been, not some mid-life crisis ordeal, and how does one change who they are?  Why should they?  Just because they’ve become a walking, talking, pot smoking, Harley riding, pony tail wearing cliché?  Is it really even a cliché if it’s what you’ve always been?    Seriously…you gotta be who you are, right?  Yup, I agree, but that doesn’t mean I can bring myself to be interested in dating one even if it really is just who he is.  So I make excuses…valid ones, yeah, but I admit they are excuses…  I’m really sorry AB…truly…  Ummm… it’s just never  gonna happen..

Topic two: A few weeks ago, I went bowling with a group of friends.  We had a great time.  It was terrific to catch up and just be goofy with friends for a while.  Unfortunately, here is where I have a few confessions to make.

I’m not much of a drinker.  Sure, I love a few glasses of wine with dinner, a few beers with friends, or occasionally a few drinks when I go dancing, but I’m just not a very good drinker beyond that. My catch-22 with the drinking thing is that I rarely want to drink anything beyond that unless I’m stressed…and let me tell you, I don’t know exactly what it is, but I can not handle alcohol when I’m too stressed.  It must be something in my brain chemicals or hormonal… hell, I don’t know! Does this indicate alcoholism?  I’ve pondered that even…  It’s a sad thing that when I’m most interested in escaping and forcing some relaxation on my brain and body with a few too many is precisely the exact time which my brain and body can’t tolerate much alcohol at all, much less beyond what I typically know I can handle gracefully.

…so a few weeks ago…bowling…drinks…fun with friends… Everyone decides to go to a bar to listen to a live band, dance, and drink a bit more.  I know I should just go home, but the kids are gone for the weekend, I’ve been way stressed, and I’m happy to be out among friends..and truthfully, I just don’t feel like going home anyway, so I join them to the next place.

I’m dancing like a foolish idiot…yeah..that’s okay.  I do that.  It’s not my first time.  I’m not so ashamed…  I probably think I’m dancing like Beyonce, when in fact it resembles Elaine from Seinfeld.  I know….  Hey,   I’m not trying to impress anyone, I’m just having fun.  If you don’t like it, you really don’t have to watch.  I know it might be like a train wreck where you don’t wanna look, but can’t help yourself…  Whatever. That’s your problem.

Anyway, I’m dancing like the sexy beast I am and a few more old friends show up.  Yay!  This is awesome….and they start buying shots…  This seems like a good idea since I’m stressed and yet I do know that it isn’t a good idea since I’m stressed…  But I drink them and I think I’m grateful…

When somehow, in the midst of this whole shenanigan, Hot Stranger Boy starts talking to me.  Yeah, I gotta go with “boy” here, as I’m thinking he’s early 20’s if he’s even a day.  I really don’t know how or why hot boy and I are talking.  It’s all rather jumbled at that point.  I’m no cougar though.  In fact, I don’t typically find myself even attracted to guys who are more than one or two years younger than I.  It’s just not my thing.  Don’t misunderstand, I might find them attractive yeah, but I just don’t find myself attracted TO them.  But apparently, this guy, this situation, these drinks, this I-don’t-freakin’-know-what, brings me to find hot stranger boy attractive and we decide it’s a great idea that he comes over.

What?  Who decided this?  And what in the hell was that person thinking?  This is not a good idea on several levels.  One:  I’ve had way too much to drink; two:  I’m stressed out of my mind and suffering from a temporary case of blonde n’ flighty ADD (which I tend to do when stressed)and three:  hot boy is a BOY.  What in the hell is happening here?  Who’s in charge?  I need to speak to them immediately because someone needs to get a grip on this sitch…and soon…

Not me, though, for the precise reasons this was not a good idea are the same reasons me getting a grip on this sitch and putting it into perspective under the circumstances was just not going to happen.  Hot Stranger Boy and I get dropped at my house, which happens to be empty of anyone except the Hot Boy and myself.  Coincidence?  Uhh, I think not…

As soon as we are in my house, alone, I must have had a brief moment of perspective because I remember suddenly feeling kinda nervous and thinking (to myself of course), this just might not be a good idea.  I should drive him home.  Ohh hell no…I can’t drive in my intoxicated state.  But yeah, I’m responsible so I do the next best thing; I suggest we have a glass of wine and a cigarette.  What?!  I never said I made good choices under these circumstances, even while in “perspective” mode.  Yeah, another glass of wine was the last thing on earth I/we needed.  But I open a bottle of Seven Deadly Zins and we proceed to have a glass.  I start looking for my iPod..can’t find it…  No worries…Hot Stranger Boy’s got this.  He plays his; he selects John Mayer.   And now we have it… too many drinks plus, Hot Stranger Boy, and sexy music. Seriously, I’m feeling like I just got thrust into some teen-age movie or worse yet, a Lifetime cougar movie of the week!  Fast forward through the small talk and whatnot…

Next thing I know, hot boy and I are getting wild and crazy in my bedroom right next to his iPhone playing random John Mayer tunes.  Umm, I really couldn’t tell you how/when we moved from the somewhat safety of the living room sofa to my just-waiting-to-be-frollicked-upon big empty bed of unspeakable potentials, but somehow we managed. I probably should feel a little embarrassed at this whole scenario, but really, I don’t.  I’m okay with this as a random spontaneous act of stress and alcohol related I-don’t-give-a-damn madness.  Not to mention, the sex with Hot Stranger Boy was pretty good although the details are fuzzy (Damned alcohol anyway!).  …but true to my nature, I could never leave it at this small, somewhat understandable level of age-inappropriate behavioral embarrassment.  Nooooo, of course not.

After a few rounds of juicy sexual shenanigans with HSB, the alcohol is really settling in and I start dozing off.  When suddenly, my bladder screams, Get your ass up!  You have to go potty!  I’m half asleep and almost feel like I can put this off until morning..almost like I must put this off until morning.  I can’t get up dammit, much less fully wake up!  But my bladder insisted so I sleepily stumbled to the bathroom down the hall…

And right here…here is where I don’t understand what in the HELL happened…  ALL I know is that the next thing I recall clearly (yeah, clearly is a drunken, half-asleep relative term at this point) is I’m sitting on the edge of the bathtub, with my ass hanging over the edge of the bathtub.  Why?  Fuck if I know…I just am, okay?  I’m sitting there, approximately five feet or so away from the toilet, naked as the day I was born, when HSB comes sailing into the bathroom!  And before I could even begin to process all of the components of this unbelievable situation, he asks casually, whatchya doin’?  Are you peeing in the bathtub?

What am I doing?  Huh?  Did you just ask me what I’m doing? Because that seems a really stupid question, I’m clearly sitting on the edge of the bathtub with my ass hanging over the tub…  I don’t freakin’ have a clue what I’m doing!  Why else would I be sitting on the edge of the bathtub, naked, at 4 AM…if I knew what in the hell I was doing?  What could possibly be confusing about this?  I’m obviously half asleep, intoxicated, and had to stop a few feet from the toilet to gather my thoughts and reflect on my actions here…duhhhh…  I mean, what else would I be doing?! …Psh…peeing in the bathtub…are you kiddin’ me?!

Ummmmm…omg…. did I pee in the bathtub?  I really can’t be certain.  I can’t imagine I did.  And beyond any stretch of my wild imagination, I can’t imagine why I would.  I mean, geesh WTF?!  I know where to pee…  Don’t I? 

I’m not so sure anymore as I truly have not a clue what I was doing sitting there.  This might turn out to be one of those timeless questions of life…  Like, what does it all mean?  Why are we here?  Why are round pizzas put in squares? What is the purpose of it all?  Why was I sitting with my naked ass hanging over the bathtub?

Screams of an highly imaginative guilty conscience

So in the Who Wants To Date a Married Man game show of life…and yes, I use the word “date” very loosely here! Perhaps it might more aptly be called “how to gracefully dodge married men”, with the primary emphasis there being on gracefully…and secondarily on dodge.
Contestant number one, we’ll call him Z and here,  Z is for Zirconia…yeah, as in cubic zirconia. That lovely gem which makes a fairly decent attempt at being a successful imposter.
I see Z as this: He looks good, almost wholesome even; he’s certainly no “God of men” in the looks department like say Chris Pine… or the whole beef, bean, chicken, rice, and veggie enchilada that Matt Damon effortlessly encompasses (psh…umm as if anyone….), but I’d gander that Z would be rated at least above average attractiveness by the majority of females over 25.   Z is educated, and has a charismatic flair which just might be able to cause the likes of Angelina Jolie to take momentary notice. Yeah, the level of charisma involved here borders on lethal. In fact, if stripped down to the basic naked truth here, it’s entirely possible that it’s Z’s level of charisma which allows me to even write of the man in the same paragraph as the every-level-of-extraordinary Matt D.

Shamelessly childish Matt Damon disclaimer:

image via gettyimages.com

 Have I yet mentioned my encompassing, overwhelming, extraordinary adoration, devotion, respect, desire, and attraction to the phenomenal Matt Damon anywhere here? No? Well, I am that girl: a Matt Damon girl. Mr. Damon represents my absolute ideal; he’s boyishly handsome, yet still sexy beyond sexy; well above highly intelligent, dedicated to his ethics and causes, extraordinarily talented, wickedly witty, and yet his ego appears to be intact. If you stripped the Matt-ster of his physical appeal, I feel absolutely certain I’d still find him absolutely irresistible and wondrous. My one true love thus far in life only got a first date because he has a smile like Matt Damon. I married a man with the initials M.D.   Matt is the only “star crush” I’ve ever had. I’d not hesitate to shamelessly cover my walls, even at my age, with posters and magazine pictures of this man. Possibly the only reason I haven’t is merely because his photos, as devastatingly appealing as they are, are not a true representation of his million other qualities which captivate and enthrall me. I cried when he married. Matt Damon simply IS the epitome of my every ideal and fantasy on every level of attraction.

Back to the Z though… Although Z seems to have an element of the Matt’s naturally charismatic nature, there’s something going on there with Z which, in spite of all demonstration and evidence to the very opposite (boyish charm, undeniable natural charisma)…something that flirts around in the “dangerous” zone with a truly deeply layered possibility of sinister. I almost hate to use the word “sinister”; it seems a tad extreme for what I’m actually describing, but I can’t grasp a word which perfectly describes this particular element. And perhaps Z is merely your typical boy-next-door type with that not so unusual bad boy undercurrent? I don’t know… There are tiny implications in his aura/presence/energy which suggest it might go a tad beyond that stereotype, but these only come as hunches and flashes of intuition to me.  There’s nothing in anything the man has actually said or done in my presence which should indicate this darker depth. I just sense it and I *almost* fear it, while also, of course, I find it intriguing and mystifying.

I know without “knowing” that Z is a player of the game. This seems undeniably evident because he’s married and is an outrageous flirt…and a successful one at that, in that he has the ability to actually make one think maybe, just mayyyybe, this guy doesn’t flirt like that with every cute chick he crosses paths with. But, my BS detector has that little inadvertent deception in check. In spite of his talent to make me think there might be limits to his flirtatious activities, my gut screams that this is not so. My intuition hollers at me that his flirtations are, in fact, without any limits whatsoever and perhaps all that’s required is a basic attraction to any quality. What I hear and feel between the lines of his words and actions are closer to something like: she has a nice butt- wonder what I gotta do to get me a piece of that; that one’s lips are nice- how can I get them wrapped around my joystick; oooohhhh look at that cute chin- cool! Somethin’ I can grab ahold of to pull her in for a sensuous kiss. In fact, my gut says this might go so far that the only stipulation he might have at all is simply that the target is female. Um…yukk!!
Not that I’d date him anyway. Yeah, if he was single I admit I might fall briefly for his charm and wit. However, he is most definitely not, thus… Big fat NO to the Z!
…but I have been having a little fun doing some informal research of sorts into how this married-man thing works. I have several friends who have engaged in this kind of thing and I’ve always been curious, but never wanted to ask for much specific info on the subject for obvious reasons…
So, I’ve had wings and beers alone with the Z, but mostly and to his chagrin I might add, we text. Our texting sessions tend to go along the lines of him trying to catch me available to hang out for an afternoon rendezvous. It’s so strange how he just never accomplishes that..hehe… When I AM available and/or alone, I don’t respond to his calls or texts until a few days later when I’m not available and feel certain he won’t be either.  And when I’m NOT available, I respond immediately just to find out what kinds of things he’ll say or do, knowing I have a legitimate excuse promptly on hand for not hanging out.
In spite of my huge attraction to the study of human nature, informal investigations into practices I can’t comprehend, and (yeah I confess) the appeal of his charisma, this whole questionable association/attraction has a distinct downside.  

but..but..I love to watch hockey!

Although I’ve not allowed this to cross any major ethical lines, I no longer feel comfortable going to watch my non-FWB buddy play hockey, which I enjoyed immensely before the onset of this tempting flirtation. And this irritates me, particularly since I’ve done nothing wrong!

My conscience is apparently bigger than Texas. The thought alone of getting in my car to purposely drive to anywhere this man is going to be without his wife, fills me with heavy guilt. I ask myself, will I be able to come up with another excuse to leave early once again…avoiding any one on one, face-to-face moments? Would I be able to even enjoy myself, sitting there with all the weight of the guilt? More importantly, would the bleachers even be able to hold me, plus the weight of my guilt or would they tellingly heave and sag directly under me? What if they come crashing down and Mr. Charisma gracefully skates over to my side, falsely claiming I require mouth-to-mouth and in my unconscious state, I mindlessly uttered,  No, no no…you’re MARRIED! Or Stop, I have an important appointment I must get to immediately, or worse yet, what if in my temporary shock at falling I were to go full fledge into damsel in distress mode and merely gasp breathlessly, Oh Z…you’re my hero!
Or… what if his wife were to show up? I wouldn’t know how to act under such circumstances, but I do know the stress and guilt might then combine and I could truly hyperventilate and actually faint…how freakin’ embarrassing that would be! I imagine a scene straight out of Poe’s Tell-Tale Heart, more aptly entitled Kay’s Consuming Guilty Conscience of Just Thinking of Such a Scandalous Tryst! …my furiously beating conscience oozing my slutty red thoughts all about me, all over the damned rink forcing me into a temporary state of Slut’s Tourette’s…randomly bellowing out confessions like, I DID IT….it’s ME…I texted him!! Yeah, I had wings and beers ALONE with him too!  PLEASE forgive me?  Umm…I lived in Vegas for three months! 

This might seem out of the realm of all actual likelihood, I know. But I’m not so sure. I did once go tubing down the river in a rather low and unhealthy temperature for an activity such as submerging my bottom half in bitterly cold rapid waters and with the added bonus of an unexpected and more-than-chilly rainfall, during which I imbibed three stiff cuba libres. 

Famiily-ish River tubing party

 Holy drunken river-tuber-girl, Batman!  …Halfway down the river, bordering on hypothermia, I did develop a rare case of Tourette’s and I began randomly bellowing out swear words and phrases I’ve never vocalized prior in my life!  Oh and this was a group outing too and I should add that this behavior was beyond inappropriate given the variety of people tubing.  We were 15 tubes all tied to each other.  Apparently ( I don’t have any recollection of this), at one point even, I weakly (yeah, thankfully my vocal cords were not at their usual capacity in my diminished physical and mental state of near-hypothermia) attempted through intense and debilitating shivering to scream at a passing motor boat something along the lines of, I will blow every mate on your ship if you’ll f–#@– take me with you!  And as they passed our group in spite of my whispered screams Ialso allegedly said, Fine! Don’t save me then you rat bastard momma screwing, little kitty cats.  So you see, the sudden onset of Tourette’s-Under-Stress phenomenon is not at all out of the question for me during excessively uncomfortable situations. 

Nahhhh, since I lack the will-to-silence of Hester Prynne,   I’m avoiding any possibility of ANY of those OMG-what do I do now situations! …and then of course I have to wonder what in the hell would I be like if I actually ever followed through with anything like having a fling like this?  Gasp! The guilt alone might consume me alive. Geesh, how do people DO things like this and just walk around like nothing?!

Homeless by design of the Rat Bastard

11.12.10

“I never want to see you again! If you know what’s good for me, you’ll leave me alone!” These are the words I screamed to someone who once was my hero. I thought he was caring, loving, considerate, and the best dad ever, but as he crumbles my heart with his bare hands, at the same time telling me that “it’s what’s best for me,” and causing tears of lies and betrayal to stain my face, realization finally sinks in; he is not my hero, but instead it’s the person who held me tight, stroking my hair, and telling me that everything was going to be alright, even though we both knew it wouldn’t be. Yes, my hero is indeed that person, and she happens to be my mom. I know, it sounds like a childish thing to say and that maybe by now I should have a more significant person to choose, but in my world, she is the most significant person who will ever walk into my life. (Written by LD for an 8th grade English assignment on “Who’s your hero?”)</em>

For three months we lived there. We trustingly packed every belonging we ever owned or cared about and moved 2,000 miles away from any friend or family member other than him. No, I didn’t have a job when we moved. Apparently, that wasn’t a huge issue to anyone except me…at least not in the beginning. Yet, moving into a very expensive rental house in a nice suburb of the city was beyond uncomfortable for me with no income at the onset. So, as the months passed and I wasn’t finding work, my patience for this situation grew as thin as a balloon stretched beyond its capacity, actually about to the point where if one might simply brush against the damned thing it would POP! Yeah…not a good scenario…

The first week of my daughters’ school, after dropping them off, I was rear-ended by another car. This shook me up, but I blew it off with some deep breathing and soaking in a hot bath for a few evenings afterward. The guy was honest, saying, “You know, I just wasn’t paying attention. I’m really sorry.” No worries, I said as I checked out the damage to my car. It was minimal, so I said, Hey, let’s just forget about it. The distracted, but kind gentleman responded, “Thank you! That’s very nice of you. I’m really sorry.”

Yeah, seriously, no worries…the car was still drivable and that’s what mattered most to me – that I had a car to drive my children to and from school in a still-strange city, and 30 miles back and forth to cheer practice five evenings a week, and a method by which to get to my job (once I found one). No big deal. Accidents happen. How many times have I driven along not paying any attention anyway? Ummm more than I want to admit! Have a great day and take care!

Prior, during, and after this rear-end episode, my ex was being beyond a douche bag. Insulting, belittling, and worst of all entirely apathetic to any of my concerns or worries about our daughters. My youngest was typically crying for at least an hour after every visit with dad. This was particularly bad on cheer practice days when he criticized her no matter how hard she was trying to learn a sport she had just started a few weeks after moving here; several years behind the other girls on the team whom he regularly “compared” her against publicly and privately.   I was so proud of her resolve. He would insult her and she’d come home, cry for a while and then the very next day she would say to me smiling big and confidently, “I’m so excited for cheer tonight Momma…I’m going to try even harder today so Daddy won’t have to yell at me.” This scenario was repeated regularly.

Meanwhile, “Daddy” was constantly reminding me how expensive cheer was for our two girls… and I do mean constantly. I was already losing sleep over even utilizing the standard utilities: saving electricity and gas like a monstrously concerned environmental-freak; afraid to use the pool, afraid to dry our clothes in the dryer, and conserving water like we were ship-wrecked bordering on death by dehydration… Sure, living in a big beautiful home was nice, but not really appropriate under my financial circumstances. I tried to let go of the resentment that we were living under this kind of stress in spite of the fact that the three of us had wanted to stay with the “Daddy” until I found a job and could afford to live independently with the children.

OH yeah and we didn’t live alone…there were the roaches. They made their presence known about a month after we moved in. I brought this up to the Daddy who laughed and called them the “702 bugs”; who also assured me he would talk to his “guy” to see if we could get a better monthly price for pest control than the several places I called for quotes. By the way, roaches really DO multiply faster than rabbits! Within two months of living there, they had taken over our “beautiful” home. My daughters were often too freaked out at bedtime to sleep and we had nightly episodes of them running to me fearful that roaches would crawl over them if they fell asleep. If you could have seen how badly they infested, you’d understand that this wasn’t necessarily an irrational fear of theirs. I slowly became more and more disgusted to even eat in this house, but finances surely didn’t allow us to eat out either. I never mentioned my eating fears to the children. After the third or fourth “rough” night we had with them terrified to go to sleep at night and crying hysterically over roaches EVERY where, I finally called the “’Daddy” again. Ahhhh….It was okay; he just hadn’t yet had time to phone his “guy”. He would, though.

I swear these damned bugs multiplied before our very eyes. This situation escalated at a rate that I could never have imagined in my worst creepy-crawly nightmares. They were in our toilets, our food pantry, our living room, our bathtubs, our patio, our furniture, our clothing… I cannot stress how horrible this became or how quickly it worsened. It broke my heart to feel so helpless to resolve this when it went from an occasional fear to a daily struggle and the only relief my children had was the occasional nights at their dad’s, which of course, was beautifully (and entirely) roach free. In my desperation and after numerous (the number for this is truly embarrassing) calls and texts to the ex; pleading with him to help, I began to imagine scenarios where I would phone all the pest control services and offer up sex in exchange for roach control. Putting aside any pride I might have ever had in me, I contemplated how one goes about offering that kind of thing without the possibility of getting arrested. No, I’m not kidding. These were the thoughts that began to consume my mind.

Sum this all up with the chronically terrifying financial fears of stressing literally every single solitary CENT, not finding any work, and the ugly manipulative insults and/or absolute disregard my children and I were learning was just to be a part of our new lives, now add a second random car accident. Sadly though, this one totaled my car.

This time, dude in an SUV makes a left turn on a two-way street (not at an intersection) right into the driver’s side of my car, as if my car was actually invisible! BAM! He slams directly into me, forming my car into a near 90-degree angle! The car was never to be drivable again. We were literally lucky to have survived the accident.

I had no one to call to drive us home from this accident…not a single soul within a 2,000 mile radius who might come to pick up my children and me…except the “Daddy”. After nine desperate phone calls, six frantic texts (not to mention how many the children must have sent) and over an hour of time passing sitting in a demolished car the “Daddy” finally texts, yes, TEXTS, “is everything ok?” Ummm….NO..it’s NOT… That would be why your children and your ex are blowing up your phone in the middle of the afternoon with calls and texts, you self-consumed idiot.

But yeah, he finally arrived.  I was hysterical at that point and more than a tad irritated at his nonchalance to our desperation. When I hinted at this, he was quick to remind me that I had no right; that I should just be grateful that he even came for us at all; after all, he’s a busy, important man who doesn’t have the time to be dealing with his ex’s little traumatic crises.

And right here is when the true, deep terror of our situation hit me fully. Under his designed choices  and reassurances surrounding our move here, along with my failed attempts to get a job and secure any income of my own, I WE were completely and totally under his tyrannical control and at his mercy, which I stupidly had been under before and that had not turned out pretty by any means.

So, by his grace alone, he drove us directly to a car rental place to rent a car for the duration of the insurance to take over (not my insurance, you silly goose….I had no insurance. I had had to let that lapse almost immediately after moving. The at-fault driver did have insurance thank God!). And now we add in the(up-front) cost of this rental car until the insurance company reimbursed him and the insurance on said rental car which provided me the means to drive my children around at our assumed daily frantic pace and the ability to continue looking for work… to the rest of the story, the stress, the mass discomfort, the verbal and emotional abuse we were enduring, the roaches, the crying bouts of my children over their dad’s chronic public put-downs and the fear of sleeping or eating at our own house.

The straw that broke the camel’s back though,  was when my 11 year-old mentioned that she liked Daddy’s girlfriend okay, but that since we hadn’t lived here for long yet, she really wished she could have some daddy-daughter time just once in a while. Given that this WAS the reason we moved here and this “girlfriend” was only a few weeks into the situation, I did not hesitate to reassure my daughter that it was okay to discuss her feelings and wishes about that with her father; that she had every right to request occasional “Daddy” time minus the girlfriend. I told her I was certain he would want to know that she felt that way, would very much care and would honor and respect her wishes, since they certainly were not at all unreasonable. And strangely, I really believed this. Never imagined it would even cause a hiccup.

Please bear in mind that “Daddy” told us on the way in from the airport at our arrival, how he had been crying in his office earlier that morning because he was so overwhelmed with happiness that his children would finally after all these years be close at hand, close enough to have a regular relationship with on a daily/weekly basis. He had cried so hard he needed a tissue, but didn’t have any and had even “had to” buzz his secretary to bring him some tissue. And secretary was just, “awwwwwww… it’s so beautiful how much you love your children…you must be the greatest dad ever!” I hate to demonstrate my inner cynic at this touching, Hallmark card episode, but I know this man’s theatrics and I was silently disgusted that he was clearly making such a dramatic show about our move. Anything to present himself as the hero-Dad! Anything to make the whole thing all about him…having little, to nothing, to actually do with his children or being a dad. I suppressed those past-influenced thoughts at his story and convinced myself he might have really been being genuine here…after all, he’d been a great dad for 10 years from 2,000 miles away…hadn’t he?

So I encouraged my child to discuss her feelings honestly with her dad, assuring her that he would not be angry and that I knew he would respect her feelings and make some of their limited time together just daddy-daughter time. I told her that I thought he would even feel extra special to know how much time having time with him really did mean to her.

No. Although she’s the overly criticized child, fearful of upsetting her father or disappointing him more than she already did daily by just being her own, wonderful but imperfect of course, self, she braved this conversation! And he didn’t even acknowledge that she had spoken. He ignored her completely although she knew for certain he had heard her speaking. She waited a few days and hesitantly mentioned it again, Daddy, I like (insert name of girlfriend here), but could we see you once in a while just the three of us? Maybe have an hour with you to ourselves? He responded with an adamant and vehement, I’m not breaking up with (insert name of girlfriend here) for you.

My daughter did not understand. She hadn’t asked him to “break up with his girlfriend” at all. She did understand, however, that her wishes not only would not be granted, but that her father had no interest whatsoever in her wishes.

Which, I do understand. After all what I’ve failed to mention here is that this wasn’t just any girlfriend in his long list of failed relationships, this was a rock stars’ ex-girlfriend! I mean, really, of course nurturing that relationship was to come before time with the little girl who gave up all her kindergarten friends, her happy roach-free home, her beloved school, all her other relatives, and her peaceful, happy-go-lucky mother! GOSH…there were priorities here people! Because having your dream job of big power, absolute financial security, an obnoxiously extravagant home, all of your childhood friends and relatives close at hand, you ex-wife under your total control, and (finally!) your two children too, could never be satisfying enough. You have not actually “arrived” in life until you have the ultimate ego-inflating status of dating a “rock stars’ ex-girlfriend”…and that delicate factor of this complicated equation must, without question or hesitation, then be put above all, since without that part of it, you’re still just not totally convinced that you are absolutely and unequivocally THE man.

You all understand, right?

Yeah, me too because here is where I snapped. And I mean snapped. Enough. No more attempting to reason with this man. No more making up flimsy-ass excuses for him that my children weren’t buying anyway. I merely shoved aside 10,000 roaches to sit on my formerly comfy (and sanitary)sofa, phoned up the ex and said, I think it’s best we go back home. This just doesn’t seem to be working out for anyone except you, on any acceptable level. To which he responded by screaming, I don’t care what you do! You have 30 and I repeat THIRTY days to get your ass back there or I’m renting out the Michigan house and I’m not helping you one bit to get back there either. And I’m canceling the rental car immediately so you’d better find a way to pay for a rental car on your own.

And here is what we did (had to do): we left everything we’ve ever owned, packed one small suitcase of clothing each and our cat, and used the insurance money from my totaled car to drive back to Michigan in order to save our home. Even my daughters with all their beautiful things and all our precious life-time mementos chose to give all that up to go home and live in our safe, peaceful house, in our safe peaceful small mid-western neighborhood far away from the “Daddy”.

We drove for three days, making it a fun family adventure. Laughing through our sadness and our fears, giggling as much as possible, and talking about how we still had all that really mattered in life: love, peace, respect, our beloved home, and each other. The rest was just stuff and stuff could be replaced…slowly in time, we’d get more furniture, ipods, televisions, computers, clothing, family pictures, etc, etc, etc… Good God, I have the most amazing children!!

And after three days on the road, we finally reached our destination…HOME, SWEET, SAFE, HOME… to discover another family had already moved into our house.

My next conversation with the ex went something like this (and this is obviously a mere excerpt):

Me: the roaches really were unbearable and disgusting and you didn’t care at all how horrifying and unsanitary that was for us.

Douche Bag: Ask me why I didn’t do anything about the roaches.

Me:(genuinely confused) What?

Douche Bag( a tad louder this time): Ask me why I didn’t do anything about the roaches!

Me: (now confused AND irritated at his tone) Ummm…huh?

Douche Bag( full-fledged yelling now): ASK ME WHY I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING ABOUT THE ROACHES!!

Me: Umm…okay, why didn’t you do anything about the roaches?

Douche Bag: Well, you didn’t seem to mind living with them, so why would *I* care if you did?

Zeppelin, HD1-2, and head-spinning madness

I’ve been enjoying a couple of kinda fun  email exchanges and text-servations this past week, in spite of all that other M-whatnot and whatnot…   

Zep: cool snowboarder/surfer dude, exactly my age who shares a love of Led Zeppelin and classic rock in general with me…  fun, cool conversations…appears attractive in his photos, has a child and seems to understand and share my priorities as well… Good stuff!  We are meeting tomorrow for some drinks and Zeppelin.  I’m actually a bit excited to see what he’s like in person!   

Not so sure about these two dudes...hmm...

HD dudes:  hmm…..?  I am emailing/texting with two HD motorcycle guys. (HD1 and HD2?)  Both seem pretty cool.  I get borderline vibes from one and semi-borderline vibes from the other, but quite honestly, I have to re-check their profiles out to remember which is which, as they are fairly similar and I’ve no plans to meet either yet.  Although the one that seems “better” (for whatever reason?!) has invited me several times on a ride.  I very much want to go soon, but haven’t been able to squeeze that in just yet.   

...back to just mystified...

  Two (or three?) OMGWTF moments:   

  M started texting me Friday night as I was leaving with kids for a festival.  Yada, yada, yada….another lengthy and frequently misunderstood communiqué with M via text (sighhhhhhh…) These are truly getting so redundant and lengthy that I don’t even want to bore anyone by posting them anymore.    

Summary:  M says he’s back home and having drinks at the pub and hopes I have a nice weekend.  I say good for you; wish I could join you.  He says I don’t wish I could because he is too “busy and defensive”…    

WTF?!

(GAWD that makes me mad!  Don’t isolate something and act like it stands in a vacuum void of everything else I took the time and patience to text and/or email!  It makes me feel like I’m wasting every moment even bothering to try to “discuss” something with him…ughh!)   

I reassure him I do wish that because I like him and that I feel confident he knows I do as well, so I’m not going to explain it all again in a freakin’ text.  OMG…   

He explains how all this travelling isn’t his “usual” schedule and how his daughter needs him a lot right now and he does need someone who understands that.   

Umm…okay…I understand that.  To a point….  And then, I merely understand that while I might be able and willing to deal well with those things, when we add the defense mechanisms and “proving” his whereabouts, and not having much time with him (for whatever the reason is), it’s just too much for me and doesn’t balance out in the big picture.   

But dammit… I like him.  Geesh…  Wtf?!     

So…since my car was left in his neck of the woods, I suggested we not have another text (OMG….I can’t/won’t do it anymore…ughh) session and instead I stop over to actually discuss all that can’t be conveyed via a freakin text-servation….  So, I did… and I stayed.  And we laughed and talked and just hung out innocently.  I told him about my Hoover Dam date and the sleeping pills. He was whiney that I’m dating other people while he gives me his every spare moment and hasn’t once seen anyone else since he started seeing me.  Yeah, shut the front door, I said…I do not want to hear it! Blah, blah, blah…   

Yeah..so it's not this...unfortunately!

  And dammit, I like him.  It’s not some hot and heavy passionate thing either, I just like being around him.  I’m almost wishing it was some crazy wild sexual attraction thing…I could understand and deal with that.   In fact, no sex at all has happened in a while….that part is just not really all that intriguing to me(and has created a whole separate phenomenon which I’ll share in another post someday).  Overall, although I like being around him a lot, I’m just not all that interested in the sexual aspect and M’s flirty and suggestive about sex, but doesn’t push it at all either; which I like about being with him too.   This, this whatever-the-hell-this-is, I just freakin do not know wtf is going on?!   

And then I left in the morning with him saying let’s go to a movie this afternoon.  (I said maybe but then later remembered I couldn’t…)  I smile for a while and feel pretty good about the M thing…whatever it is, it does make me smile sometimes!   

And after being home and away from him for a few hours of being away, I have only two chronic and troublesome thoughts:  1. DAYUMM, my ex boyfriends’ new “girlfriend” is one lucky chick…  And I kinda want to hate her for that…  but I just can’t…  sighhhhh…   

And 2.  WTF is M ‘s freakin deal anyway?  More importantly, does it even matter what I decide to do?  It just sort of seems to have a whole life of its own anyway.  Perhaps instead of making any choices, judgments, or decisions at all, I’m just better off to flow with the current, whatever that current is, whenever it flows…?  Hmmm…..   

Ohhhhhhhh myyyyyyyyy  GAWWWDDD, as I was just finishing up typing this post (yesterday afternoon), M texted me some garbage about how he doesn’t know what he wants, but he doesn’t want a relationship right now or to waste my time and he hopes we can be friends!    

...what M looks like in my mind now...truly MAD!

 OMFGOMFGOMFGOMFG    ….is this shit for REAL??? Well, the friends thing has clearly been decided because now this has become a game of epic proportion!  I was shocked and befuddled..WTF??!!  So I text back, ummmm…wow..this is the craziest, most childish game I’ve ever dealt with, I wonder if he has some bi-polar issues and I don’t  bother  with having “friends” who just flip my head around seemingly for the fun of it alone; there’s really no room for game playing in my friend-arena, I do not know WTF he is talking about, and I wish him the best, as this now is just too fucked up across the board.  

 Here is where it gets truly EPIC:  M texts back that he’s offended by this.  (Reiterates yet AGAIN that) he hasn’t been seeing anyone else since he met me, and that he just didn’t want to waste my time, but is sincerely offering me his friendship………  

 Umm….I really, REALLY hesitate to ever call anyone “crazy”.  Anyone who reads my blog knows my feelings about that overly used and mistaken label.  BUT, I really am starting to think it applies here!! M is one crazy fucker! 

  Seriously pal, REALLY?  YOU’RE fucking offended?  You pull all this random weird nonsensical crap and YOU’RE fucking offended??????  Umm, I learned that tactic in Psych 101 my freshman year of college pal.  Yeah, you’re offended…  So, I say, I’m not the one playing stupid games, you’ve no right to be offended in the slightest (you freak..no I didn’t actually call him that but I certainly implied it).  I say I don’t know why he keeps telling me he’s not seeing anyone else when I keep telling him that I AM dating other people.  In fact, I have a date for Sunday even…..but what does that have to do with anything?  WTF are you even talking about here pal?  You’re making zero sense and I’m to the point of not making any more excuses for his sporadic and strange behavioral whims anymore.  It’s. Just. Fucked. Up. And sadly, way too fucked up to carry on as friends now (which for GAWD’S sake is pretty much what we were doing anyway in my opinion…mostly).   

I mean NO KIDDING – WTF IS THIS SHIT ANYWAY?   (No I didn’t text that either, but you know, pretty much in so many words).  M actually texts me back “not to text him ever again”.   

ARE YOU FREAKIN KIDDIN’ ME??!  HE IS TOTALLY FUCKED UP… And I’m so irritated at him by this crazy-ass point, that I text back ANYWAY (merely because he told me not to..and anyway at this point, I truly could just care less wtf this man wants, needs, or thinks about me or anything at all..hehe). I text, “No problem.  Your game.Your rules. You win.”

Bye-byeeeeee! 

But (forcing myself back to the important stuff here), I get to have drinks and Zeppelin with a new guy today!  Let’s just hope he’s even half as cool as he seems! Hell, after this ridiculous effed-up M-crap, as long as he doesn’t suffer from bi-polar schizophrenic disorder, there’s no way he can’t at least be a refreshing change from this amazingly disturbing, fucked-up garbage with M!   

Part II: Or how my state of bliss was interrupted in spite of my BEST efforts…OMG!

 …So having now offered a background into my nature it’s much easier for me to explain why I chose to end my relationship with M – a man I like, I respect, and I enjoy immensely.  Yeah, I’m bummed a little and my curiosity and inquisitive side is definitely nagging at me to investigate further…

And that’s exactly why I know I’ve made the right choice to end it.

It’s complicated to describe and yet so simple at the same time.

I’ve had a few conversations with M, delicately and respectfully attempting to just get enough information to make a reasonable decision about this confusion with him.  It started after the first date he cancelled (and nearly didn’t tell me).  Yeah, I understand things happen.  I also understand the premise behind “he’s just not that into you”.  Truly, I’m naïve, I’m trusting, but I promise I’m really not ignorant.  I see the possibilities.  I probably see far too many actually and I’m willing to entertain any of them  at this point in my M-relationship.  I mean, I’m still getting to know him..anything is possible.  In addition, I’m not emotionally invested, so denial (or preservation of my heart or pride) is just not necessary at this point.  Sure, I’d like to think he likes me and I see many indications that he does, but if not..whatever.

However, the trouble started after this near blow-off when I questioned whether M was liking me or wasn’t so much into me….  Honest and straight forward; totally willing to face and handle whatever his answer was.  Really, I only asked even because I wouldn’t want anyone to feel obligated to me in any way…ughhh..  that’s not a pleasant feeling.  Suffice to say, I was okay with whatever the sitch was here. 

..but M….OMG…M turned into Mr. DEFENSE after this ONE innocent question.  He started sending me pictures “proving” his whereabouts and activities.  Like, a picture of his car dashboard with a text saying, just so you know I really AM driving right now.

WHAT. THE F*$k????  Really?  Are you freakin’ kidding me?  Let me recall where I’ve once doubted your veracity ……..Ummm…..hmmmmmm??

OH WAIT…I haven’t..not once…nope..not a single time.  Well, okay, one time I thought I saw him when he was out of town, but I concluded all on my own that it wasn’t him.  I never asked him about it or thought much about it even after the initial “sighting”.  There just was no reason whatsoever that he would have needed to lie about something so silly…so I admit, I pondered for a bit, determined it wasn’t him, and went on as usual. (By the way, I still believe it wasn’t him too, but merely an uncanny resemblance.)

Therefore, this ridiculous “proving” of his whereabouts and activities has become just plain annoying and inappropriately defensive.  The first few times he did this, I laughed it off, reassured him repeatedly, and just let it go as perhaps a lingering trust issue from his previous marriage filtering down onto his current perspective.  We all carry some issues like this, so I was willing to offer reassurance to let him know I wasn’t questioning him at all, except maybe whether or not he was really “into me”. Which I asked one time only, believed his response,  and let that go too.   Again, I mean, why would he lie about liking me if he doesn’t?  I wasn’t pressuring him or making demands, I was offering him an easy out if this was the case.  Why would I doubt that?

But this other crap, this I really AM here or doing this or that or whatever, just so you know CRAP was really starting to get on my nerves.  Listen pal, I’m not some psycho suspicious, insecure chick interrogating you or even questioning you.  So let it GO already.  No.  M would not let it go and he continued to pull this crap. 

The catch-22 about this, is that the more I received this unrequested and unnecessary “proof”, the more I’ve started to question the things I wasn’t even questioning in the first place!  Reminder:  my only questions about this relationship AT ALL were 1.  Was he struggling to get past his divorce and still having strong feelings for his ex-wife, which might explain his seeming and occasional lack of interest in me from my perspective?  (BTW, I never once actually asked him about that.)  or 2.  Was he just not that  into me?  No crime in that…  He either is or isn’t.  I’m not devastated either way.

So this defensive garbage was just out of the blue and he was pounding me with it regularly all of a sudden. For no reason at all!

Maddening?  Yeah..you bet!  I don’t enjoy feeling like I have to reassure him that I believe him when I’ve not even entertained such questions in the first place!

I went along with this for a few weeks, assuming it was a past issue and after a few reassurance sessions, he’d get past that and stop treating me like some psycho chick. To be totally honest, this whole process alone was making me start to feel mistrust and question his random defensive tactics.  The very thing he was already trying to quell…he was, instead, creating.  And I did not like it one bit.

So yesterday, after thinking it over a little, I just decided this is what I don’t want to get snared into.  This isn’t me.  I don’t know why he’s doing this and I clearly can’t simply ask because then that might actually give him a reason to be defensive and thus, continue this maddening behavior.  I’m not that girl.  I refuse to be.  This situation gave me no other option but to end it.

So I text him that I really feel there’s an imbalance of some sort going on, that it was making me increasingly uncomfortable.  I was sorry he misunderstood me so much to think I mistrusted his every move and word.  That I liked him, but this seemed to just not be working and with his overly defensive actions, I didn’t even feel comfortable trying to get to the bottom of it all or communicate about it openly.  Wish you the best…sorry it didn’t work out…blah, blah blah…

And guess what?  I receive a response message with a picture of him at the Canadian airport and a message saying, It’s 7 AM in Toronto.  I’ve been here since Tuesday.  Drove back from Phx Monday. The finger is pointing at my blue shirt.  Ok, (Kay) I guess it’s getting weird for me now too.

WTF??!!  Are you kidding ME???!??  Now, that’s it.  Truly..that’s just it.  I respond, Listen M, I’m not having yet another lengthy conversation via text.  It’s just silly under the circumstances.  So I’ll email you.

And I email him that I just don’t understand his defensiveness given my lack of questioning OR suspicions, but that it has boxed me in to a place where I feel I can’t ask anything at all and that goes against my nature and makes things seem strange which I otherwise wasn’t even wondering about. SO what I know for a fact is that he’s gone over 95% of the time and our actual communication gets less and less.  Being that my whole point of meeting anyone was to have a person to spend time with in a strange city with all kinds of extra time I’m not accustomed to having, that whatever the reasons were or weren’t behind all this strangeness, the relationship wasn’t meeting my needs on any level…and was quickly getting to the point of frustrating and just flat-out ridiculous given the totally casual nature of the whole thing in the first place.  Period. The end.  Again, I like you and wish you the best in finding whatever it is you’re looking for…So given the facts alone (because I’m not presumptuous by nature), I’m going to chalk this one up to bad timing. Good luck, take care, etc, etc, etc…

And a few minutes later, I receive this text (minus any “proof” photos thank GAWD)” Re: Email:  I’m not going to try to explain as that apparently is defensive…that’s how it looks.  You’re a great woman and I wish you the best. M

OMFG….  Now, I seriously never want to communicate with M EVER again.  The freak is even defensive about BEING DEFENSIVE.  He’s clueless and is clearly having an entire relationship in his own mind that bears zero resemblance to what’s actually even happening, being said OR being THOUGHT.  Yeah, this is the type of shit that makes a calm, peaceful trusting person get PSYCHO.  NONE of it adds up and EVERYTHING I say or explain merely is another accusation I’m NOT EVEN THINKING.    OMG!!!

That’s an effed up situation and my inner peace has been disrupted too often and way too much at this point for what the relationship was actually providing.

Bye-Bye Now.  And good riddance!

Proof that most men can NOT handle a healthy, balanced woman, healthy open communication, or a relationship with casual expectations. 

WTF?!  I am too irritated to even DATE now.  I let this freakin insanity go on way too long beyond my personal comfort zone.  And I am PISSED that I allowed myself to get sucked in to the whole stupid and unnecessary thing.

ARGHHHH UGHHHH ARGHHH.  Stupid men better just steer clear until I process through this utter STUPIDITY and get to the place of blissful relief that I finally just refused to deal with any of it and ended the whole stupid thing.