State of the Union Address

June 9th, 2013

Amid my site going down for a little bit, I didn’t have much of a chance to talk about my short-live relationship, if we can even call it that. One late night, the bartender showed up. We cuddled, we talked, we had sex. It may be the best sex we’ve yet had because it felt the most intimate. During the course of the night, we talked circles around making us official, with neither one of us being bold enough to approach the topic.

So, as our bodies pressed close together and sex became imminent, I simply said that we were no longer going to be single. His acquiescence was something anyone could have seen coming. He agreed he was “mine and mine alone.” It’s a phrase he’s used several times, and it’s cute. In fact, the very verbalizing of this initiated both the strongest and most unexpected orgasm I’ve had with him. It came out of nowhere, and there wasn’t even any clitoral stimulation, so that was a pleasant surprise.

Sex progressed to the first time I was on top, and he held me so incredibly close as he came. It was physically and emotionally satisfying in a way that I haven’t experienced in years, and we cuddled for a bit before he had to leave.

Everything went downhill from there, however. I was happy for a few days, changed my relationship status and let people know about my recent status change. I didn’t hear from him for over a week then. Unfortunately, last week was my birthday, and I was looking forward to being able to celebrate with my boyfriend.

After a week of no communication and a couple nights of serious drinking, I finally called him drunk. Fortunately, he didn’t answer. Not so fortunately, I left a message. Twice. In the first, I accused him of being an asshole for not responding. In the second, I expressed remorse for our relationship being over because I thought I was in love with him.

I immediately regretted not only the calls but making them in front of everyone. As soon as I woke up the next day, I sent a text to apologize. He hadn’t yet heard the messages, so I told him to delete them. We discussed how it’s not cool that he disappears but that’s how he “deals.” I told him that, as his friend, he knows he can let me in. I wanted to help. We decided that he needs to get his shit straightened out before he can be in a relationship, and I don’t disagree. I just wish he was stable enough to be in one now, with me.

The conversation ended shortly after my promising that I would be his friend no matter what and with the suggestion that sex was still an option because we have such an enjoyable time together. It’s fun, comfortable and hot. I think of him every time I am horny. I just can’t help it.

We haven’t spoken much sense, but I feel a bit closer. I am glad that our friendship is in tact, as glad as I am sad that we’re only friends. However, I don’t necessarily feel that we can’t approach the topic again in the future.

Many people don’t understand why I am still his friend, let alone wanting more. They don’t know what I see in him, but I understand that he’s well intentioned but misguided. I can’t help but feel as though he’s so close to reaching out. We are friends, first and foremost, and I want to be there when he does. It’s no small sacrifice, but my will isn’t small.

So, now I am single but hopeful. I am experiencing less turmoil than I have for some time, but that’s for another post.

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Categories: Dating, The Bartender

The 5 Things

February 14th, 2013

Earlier, my good friend asked me what five things I require of someone to be in a relationship with them. You know, those five traits. I think I’ve really lowered my standards lately but not in a bad way. I’m being more fair and open minded. I don’t even think all five of these are necessary, but they’re all good. For example, physical attraction and sexual compatibility go a long way to overlooking personality flaws because, as I’ve discussed, I’m sort of a shallow.

Here’s my list:

  1. Has a sense of humor
  2. Allows me to express feelings
  3. Sexual compatibility
  4. Makes me feel a priority
  5. Sexual compatibility

The running  joke with another friend lately has been how I need someone who I can “tell my feelers to and fuck hard.” Ultimately, that’s about all I need, but I’m not going to be able to have satisfying sex with someone if I’m not attracted to that person. Emotional security won’t happen if I can’t express my feelings — and not just those about the relationship — to my partner.

After always feeling like I wasn’t part of my ex-husband’s life, I really need someone who makes me feel like a priority, both in his interactions with me and those with others that might concern me. Someone who can make me feel like the only person in the world, then, is definitely on the right track.

And there might be someone in my life who meets these criteria in a way that feels good enough for me. We shall see what happens.

 

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Categories: Dating, Everything Else

The Rules

December 11th, 2012

I try not to have “rules” when it comes to dating. I want to find you attractive. I want to hold a conversation. We need to be able to laugh and you’ve got to have your shit together, which is an umbrella phrase that covers a lot of things:

  • You’re mentally and emotionally stable — I’m not your mommy. I won’t fix you.
  • You’re completely available. No married folks, sorry.
  • You can support yourself. There’s leeway if you’re living with your folks or temporarily unemployed, but if you need to date someone to make sure you have a place to live or don’t have a single possession or cent to your name, you’re out.

Really, I want this to be a functional relationships, and that’s what these guidelines add up to.  Of course, everything else is pretty much open, but certain things definitely mean that it’s more likely you’ll fit the criteria. For example, if you’ve got a similar sense of humor or we have overlapping interests, we’ll probably be able to hold a conversation. If you’re a hot geek type, then I’ll probably be attracted to you, so I gravitate toward the things that I know I already like, but that’s not a rule.

I don’t want to be one of those Jerry Seinfeld types, finding something tiny wrong with everyone and sending them away for silly reasons. I just expect a stable foundation, a strong connection.  This, I feel, is not too much to ask. Rationally, I know this is a good thing to look for. This isn’t a post about why the rational isn’t happening, though. That just happens to be semi-related.

No, this is about rules. I don’t care about superficial things about the job or car you have. How much money you make isn’t my business or something I care about. Imperfections can be overlooked.  Others have rules that I would find ridiculous however. They don’t care if you treat them well or are stable in any way as long as you have money. Some don’t mind being the third wheel if the sex is good. The list goes on, of course. Others have rules that I find absolutely ridiculous. But others have rules that, while they wouldn’t make sense to me, make sense to others.

There’s other types of rules, too. For example, some people wait a certain number of dates to have sex. Some have requirements for meeting someone’s parents, calling after a date or sex, dating multiple people at once and every other thing you can’t imagine.

The thing about rules that people fail to understand, however, is  that they don’t exist as a metric for finding potential matches. I’ve met plenty of people who more or less meet the requirements, but we just didn’t click. Really, I’m not so much looking for someone who will fit within the guidelines. The opposite is true. I want someone who will make me break all my rules. I want someone who makes me want to have sex the first night, skip out on planned dates, do crazy things and otherwise throw caution to the wind.

I don’t know if others are like this, but my rules don’t exist to weed out the wrong people. They’re there, instead, to help highlight the right person.

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Categories: Articles, Dating

Mr Nice Guy

July 30th, 2012

Once upon a time I fell in love with a bad boy and he broke my heart. It is the story of every girl. It is the story of me.

At the time, it didn’t occur to me that he wasn’t a nice guy. I was stuck in my own rebellious stage of being not nice and so I was attracted to that. I was attracted to him physically and it was so exciting for someone to finally notice me. I was, in hindsight, the perfect pray for the good looking guy who needed a vulnerable girl to put down to make himself feel better. But, in my eyes, he was cool. He was aloof and it made me want more. He gave just enough to keep me hanging on and I couldn’t believe how lucky I was to receive his attention.

Isn’t that how the story goes?

Don’t get me wrong, he wasn’t a horrible person. The bad guys are rarely awful. They’re just not quite good enough and this was true for him. He was selfish, he was a coward, he was a quitter. He played the victim and refused to take responsibility for his own life. All in all, he was immature and, I think, that most assholes simply suffer from a lack of adulthood. Some of them even beat it, given enough time.

As the story goes, I married that asshole, still not quite able to see that he wasn’t a knight in shining armor or even the type of man who would ever be willing to fight for my love. No, I wound up doing the fighting for both of us and, despite the fact that everyone who actually cared about me had their doubts, I married him.

No wonder it all came crashing down around me. No wonder he escaped unscathed and I bore the brunt of the divorce.

It’s an even greater wonder that, even after the cheating, during the separation, through the fighting and the insults and the blatant disregard for my feelings, despite how quickly he walked away from us, that I remained in love with him. I remained committed when I received the divorce papers, when he moved out, as I moved 1500 miles across the country and even after the judge declared us legally divorced. For a while, I told my friends that, should the opportunity every arise, I wanted them to remind me of the vow I made when I married him. I loved that bad guy so much.

I look back, now, and wonder how I had the strength to fight for someone that much. I am amazed at my commitment and, more than that, bowled over by the fact that I felt so strongly toward such a weak person. Even incredibly smart goes can fall for the asshole, I guess.

When I decided to enter the world of dating, I was unsure. My self image was still skewed from years of living with – and loving – a bad guy. I remember one time, in particular, when someone called me “nice.” I was so confused that someone could think that about me that I had to check with my friends. Was I really nice? Could this be true? My ex had me convinced that I was a horrible person; something that I now recognize as a defense mechanism because he lacked the ability to deal with his own (perceived) shortcomings.

As I began to accept the fact that, yes, maybe I was nice among other things, as I rebuilt my self confidence and started seeing a different person in the mirror – a person who I finally felt was worthwhile – I also came to the conclusion that I was worth someone who would value me because I was intelligent and funny and, yes, nice. Not just because I had a great rack and was sexual. I began thinking that maybe I could stand to be picky.

I began figuring out just what it was I wanted in a partner. I contemplated personality traits and values that would aid compatibility and facilitate commitment. I can’t lie; physical appearance has always had its place high on my list but no longer would I content myself with a good looking asshole. There had to be depth, too.

Soon, I was excited at the possibilities, the unknown that had scared me so much before. One possibility stood out above them all: the possibility that I would meet a nice guy who would appreciate all my quirks, respect my intelligence and value me as a human being. He would make me feel special because he wanted me to know he cared; I wouldn’t feel special just because he took the time to look at me. It wasn’t a turning point but a gradual change. One day, I simply realized that I was no longer interested in the bad boy. That maybe the sex had been exciting at first but even that had become less of a payoff over time.

Instead, I found myself genuinely excited at the idea of meeting a nice guy. I wasn’t afraid I was going to have to settle. I was looking forward to meeting a man and building a relationship on mutual respect and affection without trying to break one another down on a daily basis. I wanted a more fulfilling relationship that I would never have to defend to my friends and family. The exact opposite of what had once attracted me was now making my heart beat faster. Normalcy, vanilla were beginning to look so much more appealing. No longer did I simply want the guy that I was always afraid to lose to make myself feel better. No, I wanted someone who would appreciate what I always was so we could feel good together. I wanted the hopeless romantic, a dork like myself with quirks, someone genuine and even awkward at times.

So I began the search for a nice guy. I knew he had to exist. I knew because a friend had recently resurfaced in my life and had proven himself to be a nice guy. If he was real, other nice guys had to be, too. That search has been rewarding. I have met nice guys. I have made wonderful friends and, on the good days, my heart still beats faster as I contemplate the excitement of finding Mr. Right (again).

Every now and again, I hear someone wonder out loud why the girls, even the smart ones, fall for the wrong guys. I understand why they do; I’m a living example of the cliché but, now, I understand why the nice guy is really the more exciting option. The potential, the promise, the possibilities are endless and the nice guy does it all without playing games or putting you down.

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Categories: Everything Else

Apply Within

March 31st, 2010

I have jokingly been creating a check list in my mind for future partners. I guess it’s just a way for me to let off steam regarding my husband’s behaviour, flaws and bad habits. It’s a little resentful but maybe a little smart, too.

Characteristics You Best Not Have

  • Mommy Issues
  • Daddy Issues
  • Aggressive Driving
  • Emotional Score Keeping
  • Inability to recognize or express emotions
  • Knee Jerk Reactions to Every Little Thing
  • Inability to distinguish sex from love
  • Inability to combine sex and love when appropriate

Characteristics You Must Have

  • Sense of Humour
  • Like for Dr Horrible
  • Cat Love
  • Ability to Remain Faithful
  • Understanding of Commitment
  • Fondness for hand holding, cuddling and other physical touch
  • Healthy Interest in Sex
  • Have already been in love
  • Willingness to read books, go to therapy and do other things should the need arise
  • Maturity
  • Tendency toward Geekiness
  • Love for dorky comedies

Hey, guess what? I’m tired and randomly capitalizing things. 😉

PS, I know I could more healthily and happily word all these things as positive “must haves.”

PPS, I’m not really a crazy bitch with a checklist.

4 Comments

Categories: Everything Else

Bad Thoughts

March 15th, 2010

The past few months have taught me a lot about relationships, expectations, love, perception and healthy attitudes. In some ways, I feel like a relationship expert (I’m not.. yet) and I know I have been and will continue learning skills that will not only help me have successful relationships (and that is worth imparting to my loved ones during their challenges) but I am developing skills to help me be happier no matter what my relationship status is.

As patient as I am trying to be with my husband, as hopeful as I am trying to be about this situation, it is difficult not to feel hurt and not to entertain thoughts that are simply not helpful. Ultimately, I feel a bit betrayed by my husband, my life and perhaps most importantly, myself. I feel so foolish for believing that this time would be different, that he would be different. I wonder why I ever thought it could work. What proof have I ever had that it could? Indeed, everything I have seen or experienced indicates that relationships just do not work. Ever.

I know, I know. It’s not productive. But I just cannot be productive all the time. At the very least, I can control it enough that I am not sobbing over Haagen Das. And I’m not screaming at my husband about how he’s hurt me and making it into an argument so that’s good. I am able to contain the thoughts that they are not quite ruining (running?) my life.

I feel especially silly when I think how far I’ve come in regards to my thoughts about marriage. I went from thinking it’s nothing but a sham to believing maybe it can work to wondering if maybe it is only a sham after all and I should have kept thinking the way I did because then I wouldn’t be hurting like I am. Except I know that you have to let people in and learn to trust again even if it means sometimes starting over. And as much as I hate feeling like I’m back at square one, the logical part of me knows that you cannot reap the rewards without taking the risk and I will take that risk again whether with someone else or whether my husband chooses to work on our marriage. Even if I don’t want to think about it now, cannot imagine ever being with someone else.

My bad thoughts creep up when I am alone and at night, right before bed. To combat them, I’ve been scouring the internet for inspiring quotes (I mention this in an upcoming post I wrote for EdenCafe), calling friends or sometimes distracting myself by jerking off. It’s still a work in progress, though.

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Categories: Everything Else

Craving

February 22nd, 2010

Sex, I want it. And I can’t have it. Which makes me want it even more. I see it in movies, on TV and read about it in books. It seems like everyone is having it. Everyone but me, of course. I think about my husband (who will hopefully remain my husband). I think about our sex and my body springs to life but no relief is available.

I remember his movements, his sounds, the feel of his touch and his body against mine. My real life becomes my fantasy and I long for the past. I do not simply want sex. I want sex with him. I want the sex I remember and, yes, the sex about which I all-too-often took a passive attitude in the past.

The past? Has it really been that long. Only a few short weeks. Yet, it feels like forever. It feels like a lifetime ago even though I know, logically, it has not been. But it has been too long and every day my desire grows. It is though I have never yearned for him as I do now or perhaps it is simply how I yearn for him because I have certainly wanted (but not been able to have) sex with him before. Before, sex was always an option in the future (albeit, not always the near future) but that is not the case now.

Regardless of how things turn out, I imagine he will be the object of my fantasies as long as I fantasize and as long as I cannot have him, I will certainly have to to survive.

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Categories: Everything Else

Image © MisterUnlucky; used with permission.