Just Like All The Others

I went on another date.

It was fine. He was fine. He was nice enough, pleasant enough, talkative, guyish, normal looking, smart enough, interesting enough, employed, happy, honest. It was fine and it was like all the other dates.

I wasn't enthralled and I wasn't excited and after about 15 minutes I was keeping track of my beer and counting down to the time we would go. When I met him, I was looking downwards. He told a few stories that only ended after I cut him off. Maybe I'm impatient and wait, maybe my standards are too high. Should I not be looking for a guy who's taller than me? Who's rugged with nice skin who can make me laugh?

This guy told me later that he felt surprisingly comfortable around me. I think I have that effect on people or at least I've heard it before. I like that. I like that I make people feel comfortable. And I liked that he didn't try to kiss me or assume that we would hug or that he asked me out immediately at the end of our date.

Online dating creates an environment where I feel pressured to feel an attraction, analyze my feelings. Don't the best relationships come out of nowhere? When you're distracted by someone else or with someone you never thought you'd want?

Yet shouldn't there be something there? He was shorter than me and why do I always feel guilty for not liking these guys? Because if I don't like any of them, I'm choosing to be single.

I'm taking another break from this stuff. Maybe for good. As a friend put it, online dating is a stream of superficial attention followed by a series of letdowns. I'm not built for this style of dating. Or for going on so many dates that go nowhere.

A coworker wants to set me up with her nephew anyway. I'll just use that as my current distraction.

Bad Days And Good Days

Yesterday was a bad day.

I saw my ex a few days ago at a work function--a 12 hour long work function. The day went very well compared to how I feared it would go. But I think seeing my ex again was a shock to my system. We were awkward. We were professional. We were weird.

He bought me lunch which felt really nice and maybe did me in a little. I talked to his mom a few times and that made me miss him a little more. And I saw him looking happy and excited which really made me nostalgic.

I cried yesterday on my drive to work. The car is the best place to cry, really. Ideally crying in the car should be done when it's dark out. Sometimes though those tears start coming and it's 8am. I let it happen. And one of the things about crying is that just doing it is sad. I don't want to be crying about being lonely AGAIN. When will I stop crying about how things ended up with my ex-boyfriend? When will I not miss him enough to cry about it? The thought that ran through my head was, "I don't want to live my life day to day wondering if I still miss him. I don't want to be alone and sad." Am I doing something wrong? Am I grieving in the wrong way? Am I holding on to something instead of letting it go? Is this normal? Am I ok? Will I be over this soon? How long before I'm really happy again?

But on bad days it's easy to forget that there are good days. And it seems like the day after a bad day is a good day. The next day is always better. Today is better. I've eaten two donuts.

More Dating

I met a guy today. An arranged guy meeting thing. He was cool. He had nice hair and a nice short beard and he rode a bike and likes coffee and likes the movie Aliens and knows how to bake bread. He was good at eye contact and smiling and I still felt awkward talking to him. I don't know why. He didn't ask for my number which I didn't realize I was waiting for until I went in to hug him. We hugged. It was fine. I felt awkward. I left.

What am I doing?

Dating

I'm back in the pool. Back on OKcupid. Back to that task of meeting new people, unsure how I will feel about them.

I met a guy yesterday. It was fine. I am ever impressed by men who ask questions. Why? I've met plenty of guys who do that. Maybe it's a sign that these guys have been dating a while. They're used to these getting-to-know-you conversations, just like I am. I'll probably see him again. Meh.

I'm meeting a guy today. He's shorter than me. It's raining. I'm cold. I want to wear my boots but they would make me nearly half a foot taller than him. I hope you understand why that precludes me to wear flats. It matters. It matters to me. I don't enjoy feeling like a giant when meeting a guy in a potentially romantic light. But then again, maybe I'll wear the boots. My feet are cold.

I'm meeting a few more guys next week, it would seem. I want something special and I want to meet someone different. I want to be excited. i had this intense feeling a little while ago--that I don't to meet a stranger. I want to meet someone I like, someone I know I had fun with. I want to be excited.

In two weeks I'll most definitely be seeing my ex-boyfriend. For an entire work day, no almost 12 hours I will most definitely be in near proximity to my ex-boyfriend. This ex-boyfriend whom I have not physically seen since the beginning of April. This ex-boyfriend whom I have not spoken words out loud to since the beginning of April. This ex-boyfriend who broke my heart, who I loved more than anyone who showed me how much I was capable of caring for someone. Needless to say, I'm anxious. I know he will be civil at the very least. Likely he will be friendly. No doubt he will be professional and helpful, as we it is a work function. But I'm anxious about my own feelings. Will this day be miserable? Will I be emotional? Will I miss him more than I have been? Or will this day free me?

I rejoined OKCupid for activity and distraction. I want to be trying. I want to be moving forward.

Bartender

I went on a date with a bartender. Two dates, actually. He asked me out. I'm pretty sure I'm living in a slightly obnoxious romantic comedy.

See, the thing is I went on a blind date at this bar and the bartender there, well I remembered him from a night a month or so ago. He was a sky-diver and his name was Scotty. That's how I remembered his name. He was easy to talk to and sort of fun and it was cool to KNOW a bartender. I think he recognized me that night, sitting next to this awful date at the bar.

The date? He was a talker. This was a really cliched scene from my movie. Girl meets guy, girl has high hopes, guy is nuts. Every time I wanted to say something, my mouth would open and I'd make a noise--bringing the word to my lips. I would be AUDIBLE noise, mind you. The sort of noise a person makes that ques the "listener" (this guy was not one) to listen. TO LISTEN. Every time I wanted to say something, he beat me to it and already launched into a new topic. The weather. His college days. His new jobs. His lack of free time, friends, money, girlfriend. How his father got his job. God. There was no end. And sometimes I had a lot to say!

There was one great moment when I was responding to something he said about making friends. I was saying one of those things that is just supporting the other person, keep him talking. That IS what I was reduced to after about 20 minutes. I was nodding and said, "Yeah, how do you make friends? Just say hey, I you seem cool..." Date guy thought I was calling him cool. He thanked me enthusiastically. I had to go.

While I was sitting there I noticed bartender and wished my date would just leave and I could talk to him. He seemed cooler and more fun. I even thought about sneaking back in after calling it quits with date guy. But I didn't. I went to Whole Foods, my happy single place.

I went back to the bar the next day with my roommate after hitting a local festival. Bartender saw me, remembered me and talked to me. He liked me. Instantly I had a crush on bartender. I went back a few times, deciding maybe sometime I'd work up the nerve to ask to hang out.

One night, I went in alone. He wasn't working but I played it cool. I worked on my crossword puzzle and drank a beer squeezed between two strangers. Low and behold bartender showed up and flirted with me. He asked me out that night. He asked me out. HE. ASKED. ME. OUT.

It was magic. It was beautiful. I was amazed at how life happens. He asked me out and he was sweet and gentlemanly and fun and gallant.

How did it end? He was invasive with his tongue and I started comparing him to my ex-boyfriend and I stopped being excited. The third date didn't happen. You never know how it'll go, I guess.

Fighting or Surrenduring

Loneliness.

Fight the feelings. Get outside--the outdoors trigger some sort of hormone or science thing that makes you happy or something. Take a bike ride! Take a bike ride to that fantastic coffee shop that you haven't been to in a while. You know the one--the one with the massive chalk boards that you love ogling? The one that you always tell people you love but you don't go to enough. Get a coffee and revel in not having to do any work. Read a book--get lost. Do a crossword puzzle--challenge your mind.

Whole Foods is a happy place. Go there! Walk through the pretty aisles, gaze at the sale signs and all the bins of shiny foods. Look for a familiar face. Poke the figs. Buy them for fuck's sake! Who cares? Why not? They're on SALE! Just DO something DIFFERENT. Bike there and buy stuff and put it in your bag that you brought because you're so eco-friendly and thoughtful. Bike home. Be an adult.

Make yourself dinner. Put on a fucking movie. Make a fucking drink. That's what adults do. Eat the cookie that you bought at Whole Foods even though it probably has 1200 calories in it. Then feel guilty because you also want to eat ice cream. Ice cream covered in chocolate sauce and almonds and coconut. Then pile those dishes in the sink. There. A mess. Something to clean up. Something constructive to do. Sit on the couch and wait to start caring what happens in the movie. I hope you're wearing next to nothing, relishing the opportunity of an empty house. Admire your red toe nails and your smooth skin and you're flatter tummy (even with all that sugar and peanut butter being consumed daily).

Don't feel sorry for yourself! Feel empowered! You can do whatever you feel like. Pull out a post-it note and write down those things you want to do that you're afraid to do. They will give you confidence. Write them down. Brainstorm more! Google "bucket list for single girls" and "things to do before your 30". Shit. You've done a lot of those things.  Fuck it. Go back to the movie. Maybe it's interesting now.

Go on facebook and try not to obsess over how many people are getting married this weekend. It's not a big deal. It happens when it happens and certainly not too LATE for you. God no. Do you want children? No, no, stop that. You don't have to think about that right now. Maybe you do, maybe you don't. It's ok. So much time to decide. Yeah you do, actually. You want kids. You really want kids.  But thank god you don't have to deal with them yet.

Maybe it's time for bed. Before you get "hungry" enough to eat something else, like the rest of that cookie or the rest of that ice cream or more peanut butter. Shit. Peanut butter is so good. Don't bite your nails. Don't do it. Go to bed. You're tired. You had a busy day.

I miss being with someone.

Crazy In Love

I dreamt last night. I dreamt of the man I was missing, or at least he showed up. He wasn't very attractive in this dream. He looked like someone I used to know. I felt so unrelated to him. He was even working at his computer for a while, and I had this feeling of pity? No, sadness? Loneliness for him?

I've been thinking about him some with the advent of these new men in my life. There are comparisons. I think back to how it felt falling in love with him, wondering if I could be falling in love now. I think of the things he did that I liked, so many. I was mad about him. Even now my eyes could start watering. It is bliss to be so crazy in love with someone who loves you right back.

I am adamant to feel that again with the right person.

Unsure

Do I like him? Do I like the way he walks? Am I ok with how he eats food? Do I like how he looks at me? Do I like our conversations together? Am I happy when he's at my door? Am I excited when he moves in to kiss me? Do I want to meet his friends? Do I miss him when he's not here? Can I see myself with him later in life? Do we have things in common? Is it fun just being with him? Does he make me happy? Am I happy that he's in my life?

I know he's better than some but is he best?

Five and Counting

Five dates.

Two good night kisses.

One make out session.

Here I am googling "how to tell if he's a good guy" and "dating red flags" and "when does dating become a relationship" and "how to know if he's the one". Thank the lords for google. How would I be able to entertain my ridiculous over-thinking?

I just wrote an email to a close friend outlining the pros and cons of this new fellow. Want a highlight?

He's not big on opening doors for me. I'm going to say that first because I think it's been bothering me. Granted I get so nervous around him sometimes that I rush right through doors without giving him any signals that I want him to be doing that. But really, how do you politely get a guy to open your car door for you?

He does like my cheeks (among other things). And yes, he was referring to the parts of my face sitting beside my nose that get all round when I smile. I liked that. It was delightfully honest and sweet of him to say.

I like him.  I imagine I will continue to like him but really I don't have any way of knowing for sure. I like to be sure. This is fun though--whatever this is.

Sour Date

I went on a sour date. I met with him with the utmost feeling of "Why not?" We had sent a few messages back and forth. In one he had knocked my donut place and immediately I didn't think it was going to work out. But... that obnoxious side of me trying to keep things logical said to give it a better shot. After a last minute breakfast plan didn't work out (last minute plans with online dating are difficult to maneuver), I said I'd meet him for coffee. A coffee. A very safe thing to do for a first date.

We met at Starby's in the evening. I saw him waiting as I walked up and we went inside and ordered our drinks separately. So far so good. He got a chai--which looked awkward with a huge wad of teabags floating in his big fat mug of milkiness. We chose our spot and he asked if he could read the back of the book I brought along. That was sort of weird, like let's sit quietly for the first moment of meeting while you read the back of a book that I haven't even gotten into yet? Ok, so we talked about books. It was fine.

It took 15 minutes... maybe 10 before I realized I wasn't interested. He was pleasant and we had already found common ground in a Wyoming mystery series but still, I was bored. Two ticks that he had that started to irritate me:

1) He had this short, nervous, throw-his-head-back laugh that came at the oddest of moments. Some of us have things we do to fill in awkwardness with strangers. I laugh, too. So we were both laughing but nothing was really that funny and we weren't actually full of that much merriment. His laugh was annoying to me though. I like my ringing bell of a hearty laugh, I did not like his trill and sporadic one.

2) He took all these pauses to collect his thoughts when he was speaking--head down, eyes sort of searching, body completely still. I like when people don't resort to useless words all the time--it shows a sort of confidence, or experience in speaking. However, it became hard for me to tell whether he was putting his thoughts together for the rest of a sentence or if he was out of anything to say. There was a few times where I thought belatedly, 'Oh, he's done! OK, let's think of something new to talk about' and then as I started to ask a new question, he blurted out another sentence on the previous matter. Point: we were not in sync.

So when it looked like he was done with his drink, I think I may have asked. Then asked if he was ready to go! And he agreed in a "if I have to" sort of way--and asked if I was hungry!

"Oh, nope. I ate before I came."

"Oh." Silence. Staring.

"And yeah, actually... I have to... go to the gym!" Awkward laughter on my part. I shuffled us out to the steps and stood facing out to the parking lot, looked at him and said it was nice to meet him. We'd just spent 40 minutes together and I was eager to get out of there. He asked for my number, which I told him (thinking maybe I'd give it another chance). Then he asked if I had plans for the weekend.  I said no, without really thinking. Then he asked if Friday or Saturday was better. Either was fine, I guess. How did I feel about ice-skating on Friday?

Maybe it's not fair to this guy who obviously enjoyed my company that I felt assaulted with this question. He had just taken my number and wanted to form new plans for 5 days away, and it was something weird and severely date-ish too. I didn't want to go. I had trouble saying that. I started nodding my head thinking I'd acquiesce but as I thought about it, the less I wanted to go. So I started using my body language--turning away, acting anxious, shaking my head.

"I don't know, man... ice-skating? I don't think so." Silence. Staring. Waiting. Apparently a band was playing, one he hadn't heard but thought he'd like and we wouldn't even have to ice skate! He waited more and I finally said ok. He told me he'd text me and shook my hand.

I flew out of there. I couldn't wait to text my friends and say what an idiot I'd been in getting cornered by a guy I didn't want to see again. I complained to my roommate about how conniving he'd been with his asking me out so swiftly, having a plan ready, not reading my queues.

The next morning I was sure I didn't want to see him again. He texted me at 9 in the morning. Folks, that's early. I'm at work. I'm busy. I ignored it and the following morning he called and left a message. Assuming I was still interested, he gave me the details and was looking forward to talking to me again soon. I felt awful --having to choose how to tell him no. I finally texted him something brief and honest, how I felt that we weren't a match but thank you anyway.

How do you deal with a sour date? So no thank you right at the end of the date, to his face? Give him a bad number? Give him a second date? Ignore his later bouts of contact?

Dating is stressful. I had so far been lucky with 2 great first dates. I had forgotten how to deal with a bad one. I am much better about recognizing my feelings though. Sometimes you just got to go with your gut and say what you're thinking, even if it's hard.

Not There Yet

I haven't moved past it yet. I have found happiness in my own life, being single. Yet, I miss him. I do. I miss him. I miss him. I miss him. How is that possible? How can I be happy when I also wish we could be together?

I can't be over him if I still wish we were together. I don't understand how this works. He wasn't the right one for me. OK. Right? We broke up and there's a reason we broke up. God damn, do I wish we hadn't. I loved him so much. And maybe it was loving him that made me feel so happy. Maybe that would've ended. Something better will come to me, yes. I am happy in my life. So happy. I was walking with my dog last night, just goofily smiling and feeling love shining through me and from me and around me.

What the fuck is going on?

How am I happy and at the same time feel so sad glancing at a picture of him? I want to talk to him but I shouldn't.  Why did he leave me and why do I miss him and will I be over this and why do I wish I could be with him again and why do I wonder if he misses me still? Does he feel the same way? Did he stop thinking about me? Does he ever want me back? Did he love me like I loved him? Will I always love him or will this fade one day? Will I love someone else the way I loved him?

I have control now. I didn't have that when I was head over heels for him. I'm glowing in a different way now. Life is good. And I miss him.  Love is an incredibly powerful thing. He made me better person, or at least loving him has.

You have changed me, Peter.

Another One Down

Um, I don't think I care if I see Bad-Kiss-Date again. If I do, great! If I don't, ... great!

Maybe I'm not ready. Maybe something's missing. Maybe all these 180s are making me tired. Maybe I can't get that face assault out of my head. Maybe I'm embarrassed. Maybe I like being single. Maybe I wanted him to be the one badly enough that ... it didn't ... work? Maybe it seemed logical to like him but I didn't realize how I was feeling. Maybe I'm talking myself out of it because I don't think he's going to call me again.

One guy closer to the right one?

Don't Get Me Wrong

I do still miss him.

I miss being with someone I loved so much. I miss being happy just seeing someone's face or hearing someone's name. Being in love is really nice.

Because My Love Life Is That Ridiculous

Here I was thinking this guy could NOT kiss me. That he was so nervous he fumbled it up or that he'd never figured out how to do it right or that when he liked a girl he got so horny and eager that he turned into a 14 year old boy: all hands and tongue. The image of his head careening towards my face as I turned away from the door haunted me Saturday night. I couldn't sleep. I pictured him bounding away goofily, yelling to me how he'd take me out again soon. Oh god, and he made this little weird moaning sound in the middle of the whole thing. And at the end he hugged me, then squeezed me then picked me up!

I was anxious all yesterday imagining the scenarios of his picking me up for dinner last night. Would he come up to the door and immediately move in for another life resuscitation? Would I awkwardly put my hand between our faces and too quickly yell, No! Would we sit painfully through a dinner as I came to the sad conclusion that I was in fact not attracted to him? I could just taste the guilt as I ended up having to explain to him that I couldn't date someone I had such bad mouth chemistry with. How to tell a guy that I hated his kissing? That I was totally turned-off by just that? Oh, the planning in my head all day Sunday and Monday. I wanted to ready myself. And I just couldn't picture the positive: that maybe he would immediately say sorry for how awkward it was and that he wouldn't kiss me like that again. That he had invaded my space and felt like an idiot and wished only that I'd allow him another opportunity to show what he could do.

Well, shit.  I brought it up at the very end of the date, after he gallantly paid the check. Do you want to know what he had to say?

He thought I was the kiss botcher. He had been going in for a sweet and simple little goodnight peck on the mouth and was astounded when I tried twisting it into a weird teeth-nashing french. That's why he moaned--in surprise. That's probably while he pulled his face away and squeezed me--just to keep my mouth away from his. We agreed it was horrible, terrible, awful, never to be repeated in the history of kissing. We laughed and I twisted uncomfortably in my seat out of embarrassment, happily mind you. We both felt leagues better getting the whole thing out in the open. As he said, it hung over us the whole date. And he had the same exact thoughts as me except where I was ready to throw in the towel he was not.

"You still liked me after that awful kiss?"

"I thought it was something we could work on."

Ten Seconds Of Hell Can Ruin A Night

We had a great time at the concert. It was nice just sitting near him. I put my hand into the crook of his arm later in the evening and he eagerly embraced it. Very eagerly. He petted my hand and my arm the rest of the night. He drove the long way home, which was romantic. He's a big, sturdy guy and I feel slight and protected with him.

The problem: he kissed me and it wasn't good. Standing at my door, I let my dog out and turned back to face him. I looked up for his eyes and without much eye contact at all his face was in mine, his mouth finding my mouth, teeth hitting, lips doing who knows what. His hands came up to my face, I guess as we were both trying to slow it down. And then he tried opening our mouths wider to french me. Whoa, Nelly. And it gets better.

I brought it back to a closed-mouther and then pulled back. I said, "Thanks..." and then realized maybe it sounded like I was awkwardly thanking him for such an invasive procedure so I added "for taking me out! It was fun" With that, hee took me in his arms further and squeezed a hug out of me--really squeezed. He then sort of lifted me off my feet for a second--I squeaked.

He came back to my mouth a moment later for one final closed-lips kiss. I don't know what my face was doing at that point. I was in shock.

What was happening? Was this perfect guy a bad kisser? I'm not dating a bad kisser. Was he just nervous? How can someone kiss like that? That was nuts! And I glanced at him again as he ambled/stumbled/bumbled happily away. I said "See ya later" in my sexy cat voice, as he awkwardly but excitedly declared how he would take me out again soon.

Looking back on the limited experience I having with kissing new fellas, it seems to me that the first kiss is always the worst of a relationship. Awkward for sure. I admire his vigor and at the very least he's crazy into me, which is probably good. I was worked up last night--pondering whether all of his explosive action would fade when he got bored. Or if this was a bad sign. Or if maybe I wasn't ready to be with someone new if I thought about missing nice kissing. Or if really he was just so nervous and excited that it was all a fluke and the nice time would be better. Or if maybe he was bad at sex. Or maybe we just don't have chemistry.

Let's look to some thoughts provided by close friends:

    - Boys get really excited and nervous. It'll get better. He'll get more confident.

    - I dated a guy for a little while once who ended up being a bad kisser. I had to break up with him.

    - My first few kisses with my girlfriend were pretty awkward but now they're amazing. Give him another chance. He sounds like a great guy.

This whole kissing moment ruined things, if I'm allowed to be grandiose here. Everything else about the night with him was sort of lovely and romantic and even maybe a little magical. I don't take well to guys pushing themselves on me, and the thing is I don't think this guy was trying to push himself on me. I think he was excited. I think he was nervous. But what do I know, really. I do assume the best in people. The bottom line is I didn't like this surprise. It was so much different than I imagine! I was imagining us kissing the whole evening and you want to know what I was imagining? Him coming around to my door and looking right into my eyes. Me putting my hands up to his face, getting closer, maybe pushing his nose right up next to mine before we touched our lips. A sweet kiss where he would falter before another. This kiss of his was so boyish and eager and weird. He made this little moaning sound when he got a hold of my upper lip. Aack! Not attractive! Weird! Turn off!

Please, please, please. Good kissing is important. Let's hope the next time goes better.

Third Date Nerves

My brain is doing weird things.

I've got this guy that I'm starting to date. I like him. I know that I like him when I'm around him because I'm enjoying myself. As soon as I'm around him, my body wants to touch him. I don't even think about it, I just want to be near him. After we part, I'm smiling big and bright. I'm glowing. I am excited.

A few days go by of fine-ness. I'm generally excited about having another date. I can gush about him to people who haven't heard. I imagine what will happen next, have trouble sleeping at night because of it. Then it comes down to the time before I see him again and I get nervous. I'm nervous now before our third date. I'm afraid I may not like him. What if I see him and realize I actually don't like him?

Is this a fear of rebounding? I don't know him. I went from being with someone I KNOW, being comfortable, knowing what to expect, being in love with someone fully to this. This is new and scary and fresh and totally in the scales. I may decide after tonight that I'm not attracted to him. I may decide that even though he's got all these things going for him that I think I want, I don't actually want him. I'm afraid of deciding that. I'm afraid of being wrong. Again.

I am also like this with all the guys I get to know. There's a weirdness for me getting to know a man. It takes a while for me to decide how I feel about someone, and especially to develop a strong attraction that I can trust. I have to make up my mind.

I think I'm sort of normal.

But Am I Ready

Am I ready?

Am I over him?

Yes. No. Yes and no. I am ready. I am not over him, fully. I am so sure I will be.

I am happy and I am excited and I want to take things slowly with this new person. I think those are all good signs. I am aware of the risk and the danger and the worry. I think that's a good sign.

And sometimes you just have to listen to your mom when she says, You go girl.

New Things

I met a new fella. Online. I met a new fella online. I really didn't think I'd go back to online dating. I did. My little brother met his current girlfriend online. If it's good enough for him, hell I'll give it another shot. I wasn't going to try hard at all if I didn't feel like it. And I didn't.

I got tired of online dating again in less than a week. Then just a few days later a fella sent me a message and this guy, well he has the same sort of dog as me. I had to write back! And another day and I had to meet him and he had to meet me and we met.

I like him. He's nice. He appears to have his shit together. The thing I like about him a lot right now (besides having a matching dog and being way taller than me) is that he is going after what he wants. The fact that he knows what he wants and he's not afraid to go after it is... priceless. That's the sort of person I want to be with.

I'm excited, y'all.

Mmmmm... maybe he was boring anyway. Or bland. Or passionless. Maybe he wasn't quite right for me. Maybe I could be with someone who makes me happier. Maybe it wasn't right.

Fact: It's over.

Fact: He wasn't the one. He wasn't the right one.

Fact: I'm ok and it's ok.

Fact: The right one is yet to come.

Now I Remember

Online dating makes me feel undesirable.

It's all coming back to me. I'll message guys I think are like me and not out of my league and I don't hear back from them. I get messages from only unappealing dudes or no messages at all. I'll look through my profile and think, hey she's cute and fun and stuff. Why am I not getting bombarded with simple Hello's and date requests?

Online dating makes me feel like a grade B. Does this happen to other people? I'm hot. I'm smart. I'm fun. I have my life together. I am a grade A. Grade A +! Bah!

So Good

I am doing SO good. I am!

I talked about him for a few minutes with my friend. I was trying to talk about my roommate actually. Then I realized I was upset at my roommate because I was feeling lonely and trying to figure out how to fill in all that newfound single-time. I miss him. And he was fun and funny. And somehow realizing and saying those things out loud, I started tearing up.

But really, I'm doing so good. I reactivated my OKCupid account. Believe it. Whatever. Why not?

Crying To

Driving in my car, playing the bridge over and over so that my tears won't stop.

I'm okay.

Learning to forgive is the key to moving on. I don't want to make the same mistakes in love. I want to be open to new love. I want to be in a committed and positive romantic relationship. The first step in forgiveness is detachment. I am detaching.

There is anger left in me but anger isn't a productive emotion. I need to release my anger. Writing it in a letter helps.

I don't want to say fuck you to you. I want you to be happy and healthy like I want to be happy and healthy. I want to move forward. I will be with someone--the right someone. It's okay.

I watched some HSN with my roommate and cousin and I laughed. Life is good.

Mad

I am so mad at you. I am so hurt by you. I feel ignored and not good enough. I wasn't good enough to keep around. You didn't think I was good enough. You left me behind. Was there another reason why you broke up with me? Did we not get along? Did I hamper you or shutter you or squeeze you in? Did I ask too much? Well, you never told me about any of that stuff so if it is true you should have said it. It must not be true. You left me because you were depressed and you couldn't handle it with me around. Do you know how much that hurts? That was exactly the thing I was afraid this whole time would happy--you would suddenly decide we shouldn't be together. That's what you suddenly decided. That's what you told me over the phone. A phone call that started off so normal. A phone call that turned into a break up. You hope that I'm doing well? Really? REALLY! Well, I am. I am doing well but not because of you. You left me, remember? You said it'd be easier without me and now we don't talk. A year of talking and now we don't talk. And you hope that I'm well? Fuck you. FUCKYOUFUCKYOUFUCKYOUFUCKYOUFUCKYOU

Weakest At Night

I miss snuggling and sex.

I want to be falling asleep in his arms again on the couch and blink my eyes open long enough for him to say, "awwww you're so tired!" and have it be bedtime. I want to take off my clothes and wait for him in bed. Wait for him to lie down before pressing up next to him, lifting his arm around my back, tugging the edge of my shirt up so his hand is on my skin, my feet tangled in his feet, my hand on his head or his chest or his side or his hip or his stomach or it doesn't even matter but on him.

I want to be cold so that he makes me warm. I want to fall asleep so that I can wake up by him. I want to hear his sleeping breaths. 

I really want him to look right into me with our faces so close, my hand on his cheek or his chest. I want to hear him speaking only to me, as if I was the only thing that mattered.

Night time is the hardest time.

What Happened?

So many good days in a row. So much happy through, beneath, behind, in front of the sadness.  And I started crying on my way to the grocery store. Sad songs do that. Sad songs with words about losing someone and missing someone and being angry with someone for leaving can make me feel sad. Can make me cry.

I took myself to dinner last night. Got myself a glass of wine. I went on a date except I didn't need a date to do it. I can do the nice things that I used to do with someone, except without someone. I probably ate too much food and bit my nails later in front of the TV and I went to bed feeling a little sad but the rest of it was nice.

I love my town. I found another street market today. I didn't buy anything--I have trouble buying impulsively. My ex-boyfriend knew that. He knew about my difficulty making decisions. He never was bothered by it. He used to say he would wait for me. He used to say he would always come back.

I was talking about him with my coworker yesterday. Yesterday was boring so I got sad. I get sad when I don't have things to be doing. She asked if I stored tampons at his place. Did I have a section for my stuff? No. He kept things at his place for me--food things. He bought extra pillows for his bed for me. He bought a blanket because of me. But no, I didn't keep things there. Do you think he wasn't ready to share his life with me? Maybe, she said.

I was thinking yesterday (when I was sad) about the time I was waiting in the airport. I was waiting by baggage claim after I had flown in from Connecticut. I was waiting for him to find me. He came to pick me up. I didn't ask him to pick me up, he offered. It was nice. He was a nice person. He found me. He saw me standing there and he smiled and he came right up to me and took me into his arms. I remember my arms around him and his arms around me. I remember feeling so loved, so missed. I remember feeling so happy that I had someone who felt that way about me. I remember feeling so happy to see him again. I remember not ever wanting to let go.

He didn't always hug me like that. Actually, he didn't hug me like that very often. One time I came over to his place and we were going to go have dinner with his friend. He was so happy to see me. I started making a salad to take with us and he just looked so happy because I was there. I think he said something like, I don't even really want to leave now, I'm so happy you're here.

And I remember that time in my car when he said he never thought he would feel as strongly for someone again--what he felt for his last girlfriend--until me. What happened? Why did it have to happen? Why did I have to love him so much and then lose him? Why do I have to love him still? Why can't he still love me, too?

And then I wonder if he knew how much I loved him. Did he know? Was I too giving? Did I suffocate him? Did I push him away? Was there something I could've done? No. No. No.

How long will it take me to accept this? How long will it take me to be in love again? How long before my heart feels whole again?

Maybe

So I imagine what I would do if I saw you again right now.

Sometimes I would ignore you and leave as soon as possible.

Sometimes I would hug you, tight but nice.

Sometimes I would say Fuck You.

Next Step

How will I learn to forgive him?

I think I still get angry at him. Or hurt. Maybe I'm still hurt that he left me. He let me down. When will I stop feeling that way?

I bargained. I was in denial. I was angry. I was depressed. Do those steps actually go in order? Or do they just jumble up inside me and sink there waiting to resurface?

I've had a string of really great days. I've been happy, really and truly happy. But I still miss him and I'm still upset that we don't see each other at all now. I loved him. I loved being around him. And I miss his hands and his face and his stupid shaved head. I want to be ok with all of this. I want to be ok.

When will I be ok?

Having Fun Is The Key To Getting Hit On

I was in quasi-costume at a friend's birthday bar crawl last Friday. I was wearing bright colors, knee-high socks, a huge furry winter hat and a little happy birthday tiara on the tippy top. I got hit on... so... much.

I think guys hit on me because I was doing and wearing whatever the fuck I wanted and I was having a fucking great time. I was gorgeous and adorable and laughing and stuck out like a sore thumb and the stupid hat and the stupid birthday tiara made it SO easy for a guy to say a little something just for me.

Somehow I'm going to make it easier for guys to talk to me even when I'm not dressed like a 4 year old.

Friends Help Broken-Up Friends

Friends are great.

I love when they're concerned for you. I love when they pay so much attentiont to me! I love that nice thing friends do when they stop what they're doing and look at you and want to know how you're really doing but don't really say that. They just sort of stare into you in a nice way and radiate love and stuff.

Friends also like to do things like right after you break up with someone they are ready to imagine you with just about any guy. Any person who looks like a male who has teeth and some hair and knows how to speak in sentences and who appears to be no more than 20 years older or younger than you has full potential to be your "rebound". And after you say, "Really, Mary? Are you serious? Are you being legitimately serious right now? You're not fucking with me?" You friends always look at you and go, "What? Whaaat?? I was just trying to set you two up!"

I'm Not In Love With You

I don't want to be in love with you anymore. I don't want to compare men to you. I want to be happy with someone else. I don't want to see a picture of you with your friends having fun because that means you're having fun without me. That means you left me so that you could have fun. That means you left me because you didn't want to be with me anymore. Maybe you wanted to be with that other girl.

I don't want to be in love with you anymore. I'm not in love with you. I hate that you left me but I don't love you. I am moving on. I will be with someone who loves me for all that I am. I will be with someone who makes me feel like a better person. I WILL BE SO GOD DAMNED HAPPY.

I'm not in love with you. I'm in love with me. I am so fucking awesome. I went to a curling class today. And a bike ride. And got hit on SO MUCH last night. Because I am awesome and people love me and people want to love me and I'm single. I'm not in love with you. I am happy! I do things that make me happy. I smile and wear bright colors and laugh at idiots and close my eyes when the wind blows in my face and inhale when the I'm riding under the blossoming cherry trees. I'm not in love with you anymore. I don't need to be. I have such a god damned wonderful life.

No Brakes

I saw a bike without brakes. I thought of you. I couldn't tell you though. Today's ok but I miss you.

I talked about us last night. I explained it all again to a friend of mine. How you had been going downhill for a while. How I didn't think we would break up but that's what you had to do. How sometimes I wonder if I'm doing the right thing, not being there for you. Will I find someone better for me?

Sunny Side Up

Yesterday was a good day. And today is a good day. The world is bright. The people are out. I'm in my best dress and boots. My dog by my side.

I feel myself chugging uphill. A little bit at a time, a few good days in a row. Sometimes I slip back. Some days I think and my eyes well. Then I chug upward again.

Today is a good day.

Finding The Joy

I was reading this book about getting over your boyfriend. Thirty days of things to think about and then do. I did a few of them today and I had already done a bunch of them without realizing, like putting all the stuff of your life together into a box and hiding it away. Don't throw it out or burn it because you might want it later but put it away. My box is under my sink. I had to clear out the stuff from my last ex-boyfriend first. I had forgotten it was down there.

Another step is writing down all the memories and activities you shared then come up with replacement activities. So like instead of talking on the phone (or waiting for that evening call) read a book in bed. Yep.

Another one is writing down the things you didn't like about him.

Another one is writing down all the things about myself that I value, that are important to me. The idea is to recognize what I need in a man. I did that today. I wrote down the things that I enjoy out of life, the things I live for. That helped. I wrote those things down while sitting on the Starbucks patio, my mug of a latte nearby and my dog not too much farther (with his rawhide).

I also talked to my brother last night who's been a big help. It's over. I'm moving on. This is my life, this is me, I can find the happiness in my world. I can open my eyes to the joy around me. He said it's not easy. For him (he recently broke up too) it has been a constant struggle, a lot of full breaths and sighs and looking around. He told me to try some yoga.

Another thing he said: two steps forward and one step back. I am finding the beauty. I have been able to laugh. I have looked around at my friends and smiled from the inside. I've got so many good people in my world. These people are helping me and they're also what I live for. But for all those moments strung together into good days, there are moments that tumble into a sinkhole. Everything feels wrong, it all looks wrong, I've got it all wrong. And then it slows down and I stop crying and I breathe and maybe fall asleep or smile a little. I get back up.

Everyone breaks up. Everyone feels this. It's ok and it'll be ok. I'll get better at finding the joy.

I Wish I Could Tell You

I HATE THIS! I MISS YOU!

I JUST WISH that I could TALK to you! That I could know you were hearing me. That you were still in my life, that I didn't have to take you out of my life to get over you.

I wish you hadn't wanted to be alone.

I wish that you had wanted to be with me as much as I wanted to be with you.

I hate

this.

I Don't Like Pinball Anymore

I'm so mad at you. I'm mad you left me. I'm mad that I can't talk to you. I'm mad that I don't want to think about of our jokes anymore. I'm mad that anytime I think of something funny that you said, I get sad. I miss you. I miss talking to you. I miss laughing with you. I miss walking with you.

We ate together as a group there. We had our fancy date there. We played pinball there. I don't want to play pinball now. It's too weird. I tried tonight. I wanted to leave as soon as I hit the first ball. We got coffee there and you talked about Aquaman. That's a Julie store. And you love BBQ--I never got to take you to eat BBQ. And we never ate on the cute patio of that one restaurant--remember the one we wrote down on that list? That list of things we were going to do together, just us? And we never went to Steubens. And we got ice cream at at that fudge place that time and you said it was cute that I took so long to decide. And there was that one time you told me it was ok that I take so long to decide, that you would wait for me. And that you would always come back to me.

It wasn't true.

I cleaned out my burners a few weeks ago. You did that for me. That was nice. And my two men? Yeah, it's hard sometimes just thinking how good you were with them and how you're gone now. The dog's got so much fur and his nose is itchy and you were the best about petting him and not getting tired.

I loved you so much. I still do. And it is so hard and I hate it and I miss you and I miss having you.

Today was my birthday. Today was really good. Until maybe 20 minutes ago when it was all too much, too many memories hit me in a row, too many reminders of what it was like when we were together. And now I'm crying.

I Want To Be OK

I wish I could be fine already.

I never know how I will feel. It does seem like I pendulum each day--Friday I'm great, Saturday I'm melancholy.

I want to be OK. I want to be happy.

I'm happy with myself. I find things to do. I took myself out to breakfast yesterday. I bought myself a new scarf. I went for a run. I took my dog on a long walk. I got a drink with my roommate. I chatted with new guys at the bar. I like trying new things. I like being on my own. But then I come back to my apartment and I look around the room and I look at my dog and I look at my scarf and my tummy's full and I don't know what to do because I'm thinking about that person who's missing. I don't know what to do because it suddenly feels like all the fun stuff is just filler to forget how lonely I am now.

I almost can't even remember his face. I almost can't remember what he looked like standing right in front of me. It's been a few weeks since I saw him. It's been a few weeks since I heard his voice. I don't think I want to be able to imagine him in front of me. I think it would hurt too much.

I want to be over it. If I have to be over it, then let's get there as fast as possible. I want to be OK.

Pancakes

Tonight, I miss pancakes. I miss dancing. I miss hand holding. I miss coffee with cream. I miss his towels. I miss his extra blankets. I miss his hand on my hip.

Tonight, I miss Modelland. I miss high-fives. I miss sushi. I miss his head on my shoulder.

Tonight, I miss the lisp. I miss his voice. I miss his words. I miss his laugh. I miss his smile. I miss his arm around me, on me.

Tonight, I miss waiting for him. I miss expecting him. I miss calling him. I miss the drive to his house, the walk to his door, the standing in his arms. 

Tonight, I miss imagining us together for a long time.

Tonight, I miss what I had. I miss him.

Tonight, I really miss him so much.

I Lost Him

Nope. Nope. No. Over. Done. Ended. Finished.

Shit. Shit...

Shit.

Loving him a whole lot wasn't enough. It never is, is it?

The roller coaster of recovery is already in full swing. I veer between arm-stretching, hopeful freedom and breath-catching despair that blurs my vision.

I really, really, really loved him. I loved him in a way I hadn't loved anyone else. I adored him. I respected and admired him. I was his and only his.

Losing him, living the moment I had dreaded and hoped would never come--the moment when I understood I could no longer call upon him--that moment opened something in me. When the worst thing that can happen does indeed happen, well, there's a feeling of freedom with the pain. After all the snotty heaving and tears and pitiful, self-indulgent weeping, there's the relief that it's done. The worst that could happened already happened. Maybe I was trapped, too--trapped by my fear that he would leave me. Trapped by the fear of heartache.

He was so good to me. He made me laugh. He made me smile. I longed for him. I trusted him. I loved his lips and his eyes and his stomach and his arms and his legs and his sweaters and his watch and his cereal. I loved how he bought and kept things at his apartment just for me. I would see him and just want to take him into my arms and shove my face into his neck. I loved talking about him and thinking about him and being next to him and hearing him breathe and hearing him laugh and watching his face after he kissed me and reaching my fingers out to take his fingers and feeling his nails and my hand into the crook of his arm when we were walking around and feeling like I'd finally found someone I could be happy with for a long time. It was a good thing, what we had.

I hope that he gets better. I think he will. And I'm terrified, absolutely and utterly terrified to have to wait and hope for another man to come around who will be as sweet to me as he was. It's scary to be alone, isn't it? It's scary to love and lose and trust that you will love again.

But you know, coupled with the fear of the unknown is the excitement. The exhilaration.

So yes, moments of sort-of-happy excitement of potential and shiny newness... and moments of blinking and deep breathing and shaking my head side to side to keep from smushing my face in my hands and wailing, I miss him. Because I do. And I won't stop any time soon.