Follow my adventures in dating as a 30-something, sex-positive divorcee who likes rough sex.

The Void

July 17th, 2015

There’s something so sad about falling out of love with someone. When you’re simply left feeling empty, without feelings and certainly without anything else to put in that void.

Because even when your heart is breaking, you’re still in love. And there’s still a bit of excitement, a reminder that you’re alive. Even though there’s pain, there’s something else.

But getting over someone is the absence of that something, of anything. And it’s hard because you’re no longer waiting for them to come back. You don’t think you need them to live, and you’re not even sure that you would want to take them back. You’re confused, and you’re lost because you no longer have that drive. That drive that, for better or worse, gave you something to live for but also had you convinced that you couldn’t live without the very thing that was missing.

And perhaps this is all as jumbled as confused as my heart feels right now. Or maybe other people don’t feel this way as their feelings are fading away or, perhaps, becoming compartmentalized in some long-forgotten attic in their hearts.

Yes, there are positives I could take away from this situation that I’m not, but right now I think I need to feel — and respect — the emptiness, the loss of that drive, the confusion and the sadness that results from it all.

I’d almost rather feel the pain than nothing at all.

Comment

Categories: Dating

He’s Back

July 1st, 2015

Y’know, the guy on Tindr.

Actually, he returned a day later. I was confused when he popped up again, but swiped right.

He sent a message right away — that I didn’t see — about how he deleted his account because he was nervous. He apologized, but I played it cool.

We’ve talked a lot since then. He has a lot of downtime at work, and his schedule is third shift, during which I am usually awake.

We get on pretty well, but it’s been quiet for a while. And it will be while I’m back in Minnesota for an extended weekend.

This means it’ll also be quiet here, but I hope to return with reviews and some other awesome posts. I’ve got ideas!

Comment

Categories: Dating, Site

My 12-Hour Tinder “Boyfriend”

June 19th, 2015

I once read an article about a woman who had a boyfriend for a weekend. She met him, he came back to her place in NYC. They had sex, watched TV, played games, went for strolls and dined at the sorts of places that we don’t really have here because we’re not New York City. Then, after the weekend, he finally returned home and they never spoke again.

It was interesting enough that I remembered it. It makes little sense to me that you can enjoy the company of a person that much and not make an effort to keep in touch, even if the chemistry of the weekend was a one-time-only deal.

But as a single, divorced person, I’ve had to come to terms with the fact the dating is, in fact, fucking weird. One of you can feel chemistry where the other doesn’t. You can get along beautiful but still something will prevent one of you from wanting to date the other. The two of you can be great on paper but just don’t have a spark in person, or you could both admittedly like each other but not know how to make the move – and the right time will pass.

It was so difficult for me to understand, when I was younger, how timing really does matter. It seems just bullshit if you believe in the one or true love or what-have-you. If you love a person, you just make it work. It’s just that easy. Except it never is that easy and timing does matter.

Case in point.

I am on Tinder, sort of. It’s the sort of resigned and detached relationship one has with online dating and hooking up when all most of one’s first dates have been terrible, nothing has panned out save for a few friendships — one with the hot nerd — and meeting people in person isn’t actually any less stressful because of one’s anxiety.

So my relationship with Tinder has been, sign on, swipe a few people. Figure no one will like me or want to deal with an urban-ish chick living in central Wisconsin without a car, leave the app and forget about it. Repeat every 1 – 2 weeks. Except this time. This time, I signed on at a different time. My options were different, and I came across a guy who I found attractive enough and who piqued my interests with his words. I liked him.

And he liked me back!

And he sent a message almost immediately. So we chatted on and off all day. There was a lot of laughter, some flirting and general fun as we discussed video games, ponies and other things. It was lighthearted, but I stayed up later than usual to talk to him.

I finally fell asleep and woke up to a message, which I replied to, making fun of him in a friendly manner. I fell back asleep, excited to see his reply in the morning.

But it didn’t come. Not only was there no reply, but he has either blocked me or deleted his account because I can’t even see him in my list. Which makes me sad. And flabbergasted. There was fun and chemistry. We talked all day. Then you up and disappear? What gives.

I’ve experienced this a few times, and this is the second time this year. I’ll find someone who’s not only good on paper but to whom I am attracted. We’ll chat and have fun. He disappears.

But there seemed to be so much undeniable chemistry with this guy, and that is quite rare for me. There was so much chemistry that my mind couldn’t help but race ahead to future possibilities. Which makes it stings all the more.

Now, I know I was getting ahead of myself, but even if that weren’t the case, the “What gives?” still stands. Perhaps he didn’t feel chemistry like I did. Maybe I said something that rubbed him the wrong way or perhaps he decided against this Tinder thing all together (he did say he’s shy). Maybe someone better came along. He might have wanted me to initiate a meeting more quickly than I did. It is a hookup app, after all. I guess I’ll never know.

But even though it’s confusing and a bit hurtful, it gives me hope that it’s not entirely impossible for me to meet someone who makes the old heart pitter-patter again.

Comment

Categories: Dating

All The Things You’ve Given Me

March 22nd, 2015

In 2015, I am in the middle of a heartbreak. I know it will not last forever. I know that it may not be my greatest to date. And it may not be the greatest I’ll ever experience. That knowledge offers solace in its own way.

But now is not the time for solace. Now is the time to be grateful and to achieve that, I have been musing over all the things that the bartender has given me throughout our long and tumultuous triste. And I can think of no better way to do this than by saying “thank you.”

Thank you for surprising me. I am no psychic. I cannot see the future, and sometimes I assume that my inability to do so means that nothing good will ever happen. You proved me wrong. You proved that good times and amazing memories and even love, the type of loves that pushes you to the ground and knocks the breath out of you and leaves your vision in swirls, can come from unexpected places when you least expect it. It gives me hope that the future truly is better than I can imagine and that something good might just be around the corner.

And you are just the latest in a parade of people, flirtationships, partners, almost lovers and more, who have give me perhaps more than I deserve.

To the first one after my divorce — so many years after my divorce. Thank you for being comfortable, for being a kind person with whom to experience such a terrifying experience anew. You gave me the confidence and the assurance that it wasn’t so terrifying to be with someone else. You made me feel desirable.

Thank you you for liking me as much as you did. I needed that. I am sorry that I couldn’t provide the same for you in return. I hope you will have fond memories anyway.

Where would I be without the hot geek, the guy who felt like he would be my one who got away for years? Despite the fact that I know this is no longer the case, I wouldn’t be even a fraction of who I am without his accidental assistance.

Thank you, then, to him who taught me I am a nice person. I had never dared consider that about myself before him. Thank you for flirting and laughter and cuddles and the best kisses of my adult life. Thank you for allowing me to (re)discover my geekery. Thanks for being humble despite being such a treat for my eyes to feast upon.

I hope the woman you found does all of this for you and more!

To my ex-husband, the person who deserves thanks in various and confusing ways. I know I will miss things that could be added to this list, but four years is a long time to remember all those little things.

Thank you for the inside jokes, your adorable silliness and for being the first person with whom I could express my sexual side without hiding it. Thank you for, literally, showing me the world. The time away from my home town and my family made me appreciate them all the more when it was finally time to return to them.

Thank you for making me believe in the institution of marriage, for the first time in my life, if only for a little while. Thank you for bringing a sense of calm and serenity to my life and for being the first person to hold me together, physically and emotionally.

I am forever in your debt, not only for sharing a life, money and a home, but for the pets we would adopt together. Thank you for allowing me to keep them. During out time together, I was finally able to feel like I wasn’t facing this world alone. I felt like I was part of a team, and that other people understood the same struggles we were going through.

And, finally, thank you for leaving me. I am not sure when, or if, I ever would have had the courage to leave our marriage. I loved you so much, but you were slowly killing me. Although I still disagree with your reasons and ultimately think that our marriage could have worked had we better worked together, the sudden change in the direction my life went in is the single greatest motivation I’ve ever had to be happy. And I needed that.

It was through our separation and divorce that I finally found a counselor who clicked and a counseling style that I still rely on to this day. It was through those trials and many, many errors that I would build the foundation of the adult that I am today — well-adjusted, compassionate, caring, helpful, three-dimensional, sex positive and more.  While I cannot say for sure that it wouldn’t have happened anyway given time, thank you for pushing it to happen more quickly. I am glad to have the worst behind me.

Thank you for showing me that I needed to believe in myself so that I could avoid the same mistakes we made with future partners. I hope you’ve learned anything at all from us. Without you, I am not sure I would be able to feel grateful to anyone who came after you.

Thank you.

Comment

Categories: Dating, The Bartender

Judging His Cover

February 15th, 2015

He was plain. There was nothing special about him. He was lanky with too much gut from years of drinking. His hair was thinning prematurely, and he tried to hide it by wearing it long or, more frequently, wearing hats.

He was tall enough to look awkward. All of his t-shirts looked two sizes too large. If we’re being honest, they were. It’s hard to clothe that frame.

He wore glasses ill-suited to his face shape. Without anti-glare, looking at him was like looking into some sort of abyss. It was empty and soulless.

Whenever he gained weight, his face ballooned out like a chipmunk foraging for its very survival. He tried to hide this by growing a beard. To a certain extent, it worked, but he let it become unruly. At this point, his childlike nose poked out from between the whiskers, and he just looked silly.

That’s all he was: silly.

And yet with all this silliness, his mediocrity and his inability to style himself in a manner that indicated any thought at all, he was confident. He was cool. He was fun. He was the laid back type of person whom you always want to be around because he makes everything look so damned easy.

So despite his awkwardness, his overly-worn hats and glasses that made it impossible to tell whether his eyes were green or blue anyway, I fell in love with him. In spite of myself, I found my mind drifting to him whenever it wanted, whether or not I wanted it to at all.

And despite all of his own insecurities, he carried himself with enough confidence that he was magnetic, his charisma always pulling me closer to him when his arms weren’t physically wrapping around me and bending me to his will. He twisted and pulled and I melted against him, this plain, not-special, awkward boy who was trying too hard to be a man.

What was it about him? It wasn’t visible. It was chemical, running through his veins and jolting across neural pathways. It was gustatory, sliding across my tongue and sticking in my mouth with a sweetness that was only as bitter as I imagined. It was tangible, electric, breath-quickening and pulse-quickening.

What it was that drew me to him, kept me at his side and begging for me, left me looking after him when he’d already walked away, was an eddy of forces so subtle and quick that I was already gasping for breath by the time that I realized what had happened. And by then, his animal magnetism had already replaced oxygen as my primary source of survival.

That is the power of the main who looks plain from the outside but feels like a storm once he’s inside you. Flowery descriptions seem so far from apropos when it comes to the boy who slouches and drinks too much and isn’t sure of his own self worth.

But when I think of the awkward boy with all his flaws, even through the filter of my broken heart, I cannot help but see a little beauty.

Comment

Categories: The Bartender

Things That Ensure I’ll Ignore Your Online Dating Profile

January 19th, 2015

Maybe I’m too picky. Maybe I shouldn’t judge a book by its cover. Maybe I should understand how hard it is to write a dating profile. After all, I’ve redone mine multiples times. It might help for me to give people a chance even if there’s no immediate spark. It is the Internet, after all. I might find some diamonds in the rough. Or something.

But I don’t. Maybe I can’t. I go running when people post photos full of fish. And I certainly don’t respond to messages that do any of the following:

  • Consist only of a compliment of how I am a “beautiful woman.”
  • Use pet names.
  • Imply that I need someone to take care of me in any way
  • Enforce gender roles in an ignorant way (see above) or conflict with my feminist ideals
  • Aren’t accompanied by at least one photo
  • Come from someone who spends more time working out than sleeping every day
  • Are copied and pasted
  • Contain a single word, especially if it’s spelled incorrectly
  • Use too many emoticons

I feel like I’m getting dangerously close to Seinfeld territory here, but I’m also not obsessed with the idea of finding or being with someone, either. I’m pretty awesome riding solo, and someone would have to be pretty fantastic to make me reconsider.

And the thing is? someone who I have amazing chemistry with will make me forget all these silly rules.

2 Comments

Categories: Dating

Heartbreak is Hell on the Sex Drive

December 2nd, 2014

Whenever one of my sexual relationships ends, I go through an awkward stage of adjustment. When I am sexually active with one person, I tend to include them in my fantasies when when I’m by myself. My masturbation sessions focus around that one person, a real live person. I recall things we’ve done or conversation we’ve had, and I think about the things we have yet to do.Obviously, this became the case with the bartender.

Now that we’re no longer having sex, I’ve rarely masturbated. I don’t want to fantasize about him because it will segue into those heartbroken thoughts, and I’m not sure what do to. I’m not good with vague erotic thoughts. I need something more specific to consider. Without that something — or someone — specific, I become too focused on the mechanics, which is a terrible way to orgasm.

I get off most easily when I distracted myself from what a hand or toy is doing and focus on what’s going on in my head. It’s when I’m really swept up that I seem to have the best orgasms, and this is complete with all sorts of sounds and movements that are well beyond my control or controlled in such a way to add to the moment.

I’m working on getting over this, however. In multiple ways. As time passes, I’ll be less upset and heartbroken. In the meantime, I shouldn’t have to suffer without release, should I? To this end, I’ve been focusing on ideas outside of myself: erotica anthologies, plenty of visits to Tumblr, random flirting with strangers and the occasional visit to sites like SpicyWebcams.

It’ll take time, of course. Sometimes auto-drive kicks in and I find myself thinking about the bartender or even moaning his name. When I realize this, I am momentarily confused. Do I go with it because it feels good or catch myself and stop, which will usually take me out of the moment?

I was discussing this with Juliettia because it’s something of an identity crisis, for me to not be sexual in any way. It’s bad enough that I can’t have sex with the person I love, but it’s worse that it’s affecting my desire to masturbate. I feel as though I’ve lost part of who I am, and that only adds to the sea of emotions in which I’m struggling to stay afloat. It’s good to have a place where I can express that, too. Obviously sex is one of the more important aspects of my life and relationships.

Things are looking up, however, thanks in part to two items I have to review: the Ora 2 and The Big Book of Submission! After nearly two weeks without an orgasm, I quickly caught up with some multiple-orgasm sessions.

I’m not entirely sure if other people have experienced this, and I know I don’t always feel this way. But when I am losing someone I want, I also lose part of myself.

3 Comments

Categories: Dating, The Bartender

Image © MisterUnlucky; used with permission.