Red Flags and Paying Attention…

Oops, I did it again. I didn’t mean to. It’s not like I was *trying* to end up in a familiar place once more. But life is cyclic, me thinks.

I encountered a sociopath. I know only because I did it once before and caused a nine hour standoff with state police when he knew he got caught in the intricate web that he himself had woven.

This time, it’s on me partially because I didn’t delete my OK Cupid account. I didn’t use it, but it was still in existence. I just kind of forgot about it. Until I got a notification that someone sent me a message. Six days ago. And I responded.

“No, not really looking. Forgot all about this account. Yeah, you’re right, friendships are fun. Wow, we DO have a lot in common. Okay, you’ve made me laugh a lot, and we’re similarly minded, and sure, I’ll have a drink and get to know you….”

And then began the signs I know all too well, and big red flags started waving in the hot air he was blowing all over the place.

Love bombing. Learn what it is so you never have to fall for it. It’s Stage One in the narcissistic play book. They all do it..anyone with any type of anti-social disorder. They begin telling you everything you could ever want to hear. They shower you with attention, praise, adoration, affection, you name it. They begin mirroring you. Everything you want…goals, hopes, dreams, passions…omgawds! That’s their desire, too! Politics, religion, movies, books, music, etc, you two are obviously meant to be because you are so strikingly similar. They point out repeatedly that you two are meant to be. You’re everything they’ve ever wanted and then some.

We met on Friday night. He wanted me to start bringing things to his place to keep there. Or he could just go out and get me a toothbrush, and here are some jammies for me to wear, and wow, I’m so adorable, and we’re going to do this and we’re going to do that, and everything became plans for a future he didn’t even build a foundation for, just plans because in his mind, we were perfect for each other and were obviously now a couple. I was even asked to be his date to a wedding party the following night. I didn’t go…

The red flags were there. I’ve been there before you see.  But I thought perhaps I was being too jumpy or paranoid, and I would talk to him about slowing down. I mean, gosh, I really AM awesome, so of course he was smitten, haha.

But the next night, I saw him after work, and he had been to the wedding party. And he was drunk. Ridiculously so. I agreed to watch a movie. I felt incredibly uncomfortable within a few minutes, though, when he kept going from slightly conscious to unconscious, and somewhere in between there started dropping the three terrifying words, “I love you.” He didn’t want me to go, though. He would rouse himself enough when I would attempt it…and you recall I’ve become a bit shell shocked. I know how quickly it can go from being lovey dovey to bat-shit cray cray.

So I got him to his bed, and as I was trying to get him into it, he pulled me literally head over heels over him and into bed. As he began to doze off, he began giggling, and he asked when would I marry him. He’d been waiting for me forever, you see.

I think at this point, I deserved a cookie for not literally shitting my pants.

When he began snoring soundly, I got up, let myself out, and went home. Somehow, I still wanted to make excuses in my head because maybe I’m overthinking things.I liked sober him. And I liked the banter. And I’m already damaged, so maybe my perceptions are off.

Yet, I knew those flags were there, so I decided to back the fuck off and proceed with extreme caution. Not to write him off completely. But I knew I needed to listen to my gut. I’m getting better at that. Besides, drunk gibberish isn’t necessarily how things would always be.

The next night, I heard from him, and he was ready to go to bed. Hardly talked the whole day which was fine by me. I told him to rest up and that I was heading to get my girls from Jinx’s house where they had dinner and watched TV, and his overly affectionate demeanor turned into an incredibly cold and jealous demeanor. I was asked if that was my fwb, etc. I was reminded that he wants my time…all of it. If he wasn’t so bad at hiding his tendencies, it would have taken me longer to see. But he ripped through the stages as if he doesn’t have any impulse control at all.

So that night, I decided I want out. Immediately. But a sociopath will seek vengeance and keep baiting you when you try to go before their ready. Really, read up on them. So I hatched my plan to keep myself blameless. That way, I could get out without worrying about the way they attack when you go.

I created a fake profile on ok cupid as a single woman with no kids who never wants kids and only loves her fur baby. I viewed his profile, then I logged out. I knew he would message me because sociopaths are always looking for prey to keep their emotional void filled. The next morning, while ignoring the real me, he messaged the fake me. I got him to say he was unhappy with the couple dates he had been on. He would *never* date a woman with kids now because they have such limited time. He doesn’t even know why single mothers are on there trying to date when they suck at it.  He said he wasn’t involved with anyone at all, and that the two he met were only trying to hook up. Then he proceeded to tell her/me that they were a rare breed and so on. I asked him how he would handle a girl who went through specific things I had gone through. He laid it on thick. I responded as the indignant friend and told him I was telling me. Confused yet? He blew up at fake me and started back peddling and telling her/me that he was excited about asking me to commit, but she/I had ruined it. “Good job.” Anyway, within a few minutes, I got a text from him telling me my friends are crazy and had hit on him and he didn’t want to hear from me anymore, so mission accomplished.

I deleted the profile and said that’s that. I got out without becoming the target in a different way, and I remembered that it’s important to delete your dating profile when you stop dating versus just ignoring it exists.

And that’s all she wrote…

I’m Still Alive…

…mostly.

In my absence of posting, I’ve had a child hospitalized. Twice. I’ve had my job close and my funds depleted. I’ve had the engine blow out in my car. I’ve had my landlord decide after 5&1/2 years to sell his house and give us thirty days notice to vacate the premises. That’s by February 29th. I still have not located a new home with thirteen days to go. I’ve had people show me that I’m only allowed to be the silly, funny, strong one and hear nothing but crickets from them the very first time I ask for help. And I’ve found out who my circle of true friends are because they’ve closed ranks and kept me from completely going insane. Just partially insane. Well, perhaps three quarters insane.

I’ve remembered what it is to be truly terrified. But mostly, I remembered what it’s like to feel like a failure because I have held absolutely nothing together, and there’s nothing I can do about it. It hurt me so badly to start a fundraiser to ask for a little hand up since I’ve fallen so hard. But it hurt more when I discovered ninety percent of the people I know won’t even acknowledge me when I’m not posting something funny or irreverent.

I’m going to get strong again. And then I’ll be back to posting my sarcastic and silly posts. In the meantime, I’m going to finish my breakdown and cry a lot and wonder why my strength hasn’t been good enough.

 

 

Do Whatcha Gotta Do

Maybe it’s the hormones, or it’s the fact I’ve run a fever for a full week now, or perhaps it’s because I am lethargic and have a constant ringing in my ears and can’t remember the last time I was this sick…but today, I deleted my ex’s name from my phone’s dictionary.

His name popped up as soon as I opened a chat…right there…a recommended word…as if I had used it too much. Often, my autocorrect would change the chosen word I wanted for his name for no reason at all but to screw with me, I think.  And even though I was okay with the fact he threw me to the side again because someone came along, and I only matter when there isn’t someone there who matters more..I would see his name and roll my eyes a little at most. But today, ugh, today…I saw his name, and it pissed me off because my phone is like a Jewish mother telling me I need to go get that last train before it rolls away for good because I’m almost forty.

So I deleted his name from my phone completely like any rational woman would.

In other news, I am super sick and super over it. I missed school the past two days because I am too dizzy to stay upright for long. There’s so much congestion that my ears are completely stuffed, and I can barely swallow because there’s nowhere for the pressure of air to go. I literally gag myself by trying to swallow my own spit. As my kindred spirit Jinx said, “I know you must be dying because you’re an apple polisher. If you miss school, I need to buy a black suit for your upcoming funeral.”

He also told me I’m absolutely gorgeous…even with vomit spewing from my mouth.

That’s why I like him more than you.

I’m gonna go die a petty death now which is what petty girls who very pettily delete their ex’s name from existence do when they get sick. Much love…

The In Between

Dear you,

I wanted to believe, so I deceived myself. I can’t be angry at you. I mean, I should have learned the first time I discovered how dishonest you can be. Fool me once, and all…

I was hurting, though. I was terribly hurt, you see. And to believe you meant to alleviate the pain. Until you were dishonest again. Fool me twice…

I think the complete detachment was all it really took this time. To see myself as I really am…The In Between. The momentary distraction that turns to a nuisance when the shiny baubles come along and hold your interest. I’m not shiny enough or interesting enough or maybe not even pretty enough. I don’t know which it is. I just know that I’m good enough for a time, then instead of honesty, there’s simply the feeling of being in the way again.

You can’t pick me back up again like a discarded toy when the shiny baubles become tarnished. I won’t let you. I don’t like living in The In Between. I’m so much more than The In Between could ever offer me. I get that you don’t see that. I know, and it’s okay. But, you see, when you use me to pass the time before tossing me to the side to chase something new only to run right back once your chase bores you, you treat me like less than nothing. I am just the girl in The In Between. That’s making me a shadow of a real girl. That’s saying I only matter because no one else currently matters more.

I thought for sure I mattered simply because YOU mattered to ME. Such foolish naivete. But it’s so easy to just drop me to the side without the slightest explanation. And it’s so easy to look annoyed and bored and anxious to escape because you’ve never seemed to have the willpower or upfront nature to say, “Hey, you know, I’d really rather not…”

I deserve more than that. If it can’t come from you, then it will (and often does) come from elsewhere. The only anger I have felt over this came recently, and it was simply because of the dishonesty. No, really, if I’m being honest, there was that moment where I was so angry that you just can’t see the value of me as a viable human. I know this to be so because we treat those we see value in with a certain level of respect and courtesy and honesty and tenderness. None of which is forthcoming from you when the light hits something that sparkles off in the distance.

Then the anger was redirected at myself. I mean, there’s that saying. When people show you who they are, believe them. But I chose to deceive myself. I chose to do this to myself.

So I’m moving forward with the knowledge that the next time we enter The In Between, I won’t serve the same purpose. I know that I see my own value and treat myself with enough respect for the both of us, and that will have to suffice. Because I just won’t be a shadow girl who helps you pass the time ever again. I’d rather not, thanks.

And I know I mean it when I don’t wonder for one second if you’ll miss that role I played someday. Because, quite frankly, it no longer matters if you do or not. It no longer matters at all.

I’m not a damsel in distress. I’m a dragon. And dragons don’t need saving, they figure out how to save themselves. Just in case you wondered….

Sincerely,

That Girl

We’re Just White Noise

I don’t know what I’m doing in this current phase of my life. I’m growing beyond my current stage by heading back to college, meditating, evaluating my life…and I’ve become so repulsed by the thought of dating that my only safe recourse is to become static with the Vaping Viking.

We get together, we watch movies, we go shopping, we cook together, we lay in bed and watch old episodes of Macgyver with limbs touching. We’ve slept in the same bed all night and gone for coffee in the morning. We send perfunctory texts.

“Hi. How’s your day going?”

“Great. Yours?”

And there’s nothing of substance. I know for a fact he doesn’t know my favorite color, my favorite food, my favorite book, my worst nightmare, my greatest fears.

But he knows what I feel like when fucking like bunnies since I finally gave up my abstinence because if I’m not waiting for someone to fall indescribably in love with me, why should I not at least feel physical contact with another? Oh yeah, that’s right. Because if there’s no connection, it’s not satisfying. Sure, sure, his technique was fine. He did good things that felt just hunky dory. Couldn’t make me cum, though, because I can’t do that without the connection. I hate that. I hate it passionately. I can’t find myself completely satiated physically unless I am completely satiated emotionally, spiritually, mentally…what a crock of shit.

He knows what I look like while sleeping and how ridiculous my hair is when I wake up.

And these are all such intimate things. Too intimate. Far too intimate for whatever it is we’re sharing. He doesn’t flatter me and look at me adoringly, but he’ll ask me to come over and make dinner with him. He doesn’t ask me about my dreams, but he’ll invite me over to lay in his bed and watch shows with him while playing on my phone. He doesn’t bother filling the silence with conversation, but he won’t give me in depth conversation when I ask him questions about his views on ANYTHING. He doesn’t walk me to my car at night, but he’ll meet me at it when I arrive. He tells me about his ex that he still loves, but then he throws his arm over me and nuzzles my neck in the next breath. He doesn’t think of me all day long, but he invites me on a trip to Atlantic City. I don’t connect to him. He doesn’t connect to me. It isn’t even a real friendship. It’s static. We are white noise to each other…merely blocking out the world for a time.

So what the fuck am I doing?

I miss feeling something. Anything. I miss smiling when a text comes through and laughing at a memory and looking forward to getting dolled up for a night out. I miss feeling like someone actually craves me. I miss touch, but not any touch. I miss the shivers and the longing. I miss the comfort and the feeling that I’m not alone with one, simple touch. I miss feeling like I matter more than the others.

I’m hungering for something that I’m convinced doesn’t even exist, and I’m filling that void with a shadow of the real thing. I know I’ve had something much more real than this on more than one occasion, and I am so desirous of that and afraid of that all at the same time. I’m involving myself in a non-involved situation to protect myself from/give myself some of what I crave the most. And I’m not sure what that says about me.

But rest assured, it says something.

So for now, I’m full of static. I’m white noise and shadowed hopes. Funny, but I think I’ve just described being a ghost of myself…neither vibrantly alive nor fully dead. Just whispers that are easily ignored.

Behold, Your Queen of Awkward Moments!

The Vaping Viking ordered me a new box, and as I sat in his shop, who should walk in? None other than the devastatingly boring dude I went on a date with a couple months ago. So I reacted in the obvious way. I burst into laughter at the shock on the boring dude’s face and then began laughing even harder when I saw the confusion on the Vaping Viking’s unshaven mug. The next obvious reaction was to take a picture once they began conducting business.

It wasn’t the best picture of the Vaping Viking, but I had everyone’s full attention after I realized the shutter noise on my camera was on which alerted them all to my picture taking shenanigans. The guy in the Jersey gave me another look then told his father he’d wait in the car for him.

Slightly awkward. Slightly funny. Slightly par for the course on a regular ol’ day in my life.

Then I made plans with Jinx. Here I will highlight the good to come out of my dating adventures online. Jinx, that tatted up nerd, is just one chill dude. We haven’t hung out since going to the movies about a month ago, so we’ve made plans to change that. He makes me laugh, and he proves that not every guy on a dating app is a big, stinky poopie-head. I have faith there are decent men in the world simply because of the ones that are my friends. That’s really the only thing that has kept me from becoming a militant feminazi instead of a non-combative feminist.

See? Just loads of goofiness and giggles.

I’ve been extremely happy with my decision to not date. It feels like this immense pressure has disappeared…poof!!! …and I can focus on the important stuff in life. It’s freeing and removes all the cumbersome trappings from my life. I mean, unless you count bills and the fact someone let my children know I’m supposed to feed them every day.

In other news, I’ve begun my fall term, and I’m relatively certain the world is ending soon. Otherwise, there’s no logical reason to explain why I could possibly be the star pupil in a mathematics classroom. No reason at all. I’m done with cardio, and weight lifting, and watching what I eat. There’s obviously not much time left.

Life continues day after day no matter what breakthroughs and setbacks and accomplishments and boring-boring-boring events take place. It just keeps going, and when you realize that, your stress levels diminish tenfold. I don’t have to worry, the world will keep on spinning. I mean…until the aliens come back. They’re gonna be pissed to see what we’ve become.

Hello, Universe. It’s Me, LeeAnn

I’m of Russian, German, and Slovakian descent. On top of that, I’m an Aries female. What that amounts to is a whole lot of stubbornness and an overabundance of fierceness. I’m a force of nature due to nothing more than my birthright.

But even someone as determined, relentless, and often ornery as myself must recognize that the universe speaks. The life we plan isn’t generally the life we lead. And yet, we somehow end up exactly where we are meant to be even when it’s exactly the opposite of all we’ve tried to attain.

So here I am. Ready to listen and acknowledge.

I’m through with dating. I mean, I suppose if I meet someone inadvertently because we are thrown onto the same course at the precise moment we are meant to encounter each other, sure, I’ll still be listening to the universe then. But for now, the amazing amount of ignorance, disrespect, disgusting propositions, and overall incompatibility ensures I want nothing to do with fishing the deep, blue sea. I am unable to find even one iota of desire to peruse the muck of the underbelly of dating websites any longer. In fact, I am amazingly relieved at my decision to delete all dating apps and be content with where the universe currently has me.

Because, my dears, last night it hit me. It truly hit me. I will not find what I want while turning over every stone I encounter because what I am destined for is in the stars high above. What you find hidden in the underbelly is probably meant to remain in the shadows. And what I seek is the illumination that one rises to…not what one sinks to.

I am a mother. I am a college student once more. I am a friend and confidante. I have a full life that I just keep adding to. And stress from dating sites was retracting from all the good in my life. I can’t take any more of that nonsense. I’m going places, and I’ve no more time to trip or distract myself.

You see, I’m following my bliss. And my bliss is contained within myself and requires no outside interference to exist. It just is. It just exists. It just continues to be.

Unfortunately, POF refuses to let me delete my account.

So, I’ve merely hidden it from being searchable and deleted the app altogether. That’s some sneaky bullshit, by the way. It asks you to “Quit” and “Give up” after encouraging you to watch a video on online dating tips, then it refuses to recognize the password that was just freaking entered to open the app in the first place. Tricky, tricky.

That’s neither here nor there now. I’m walking away from forcing the universe to bend to my will. While that has worked in certain instances, I’m tired. I’m exhausted with always battling and always fighting for what I want and feel I need. I just want to flow on the lazy river of life for a good long while. What is to come my way will arrive here no matter how hard I try to attract it or run from it. Life has certainly taught me that much. Right now, the universe is telling me to give in and breathe…to stay on the course that is right and to let go of what feels wrong and to have faith that it will all work out.

So do your thing, Universe. I’m here, and I’m patiently waiting.

I Wish You Hadn’t Been Make-Believe

I wish you had meant the words you spoke and the look in your eyes and the way that you touched me. Not just in the night when the heat washed over us and the breaths became hitched and low in our throats, but in the way you slid your hand into the arch of my lower back and guided me as we walked or the way I would catch you watching and smiling as I did something ridiculous and ordinary. I still forgive my own unique silliness because you once loved it so.

I wish that last night before sleeping by your side as I listened to your deep breaths, I really could have slipped inside your dreams to play with you there as I imagined. I was so sad that evening knowing what I must do when the morning came. I still wonder what you dreamt that night as your lip curled slightly and your lashes lay softly upon your cheeks.

I wish when you said forever, you had known what promises meant to me. I wish when I had told you what deceits I could never recover from, you would have paid heed and tried to keep the illusory bubble from popping…for just a little longer. Infinitely, maybe. I still crave that intensity and fragility coexisting together in a perfect dance in every partner I spin dizzily with.

I wish you had stayed that boy I loved, my own Peter Pan, never growing up into the man you became who wandered down the forked path in search of faery lights in the distance while I stumbled the other direction. I still look up and fervently rummage through my memory as I seek your face amongst those who shine for the briefest of moments.

I wish I had those sangria lips and hooded eyes for longer than the seconds of scattered crystallized moments etched so deeply into my psyche. Those rainy days and lazy afternoons while we read to each other from books we cherished and discussed the innermost workings of the universe we were so far from ever understanding. Those days made me fall in love with your mind and your ideas and your poetic words, and I’ve searched for signs of your brilliance in every single one to come since you.

I wish I could go back to the moment when you pulled me from within myself, vulnerable, yet so unafraid, because your bravery became my own. I still try to fly even though you clipped my wings as you walked out the door one last time. I remember the wind carrying me higher and higher and higher, and like Icarus, I need to touch the sun once more no matter what consequences I face for dreaming.

I wish I could awaken beside you just once without remembering the pain that came afterward and find myself in that moment…that Sunday morning when we were out of coffee and out of food and out of money and laughing at the radio that assured us love would keep us alive. We made love and ignored our growling stomachs and talked about how someday we would have it all. I still think of all that we endured and how strong our connection was to carry us through so much before the roaring flame died down to embers.

I think of nights parked behind the school and how we fell asleep curled into each other, your head on my shoulder, my head on your heart. I now know to search for that one that I can lull myself to sleep by listening to the rhythm of his lifeblood because you taught me that I can hear my own heart beating in the echoes of his own.

I wish you had existed for real and for all time and as one person. I wish you hadn’t grown immune to everything you had seemed to love within me and dropped me to the side in search of something better. I had wanted to be that one, and I still try to become her with every realization I have of what I am lacking.

I wish, I wish, I wish I hadn’t raised my standards in search of you within every new face I see, because who could possibly be you…the one who changed everything I was into everything that I am? The creator of what I crave. The instigator of everything I seek. The founder of every reason I cannot accept anything less than what I saw in you…even though you didn’t see that within yourself then and still can’t see it today.

I wish you hadn’t been temporary. I wish you hadn’t been make-believe.

Should I Stay, Or Should I go?

James, the cute boy who owns a vape lounge, invited me back over last night to his bachelor pad which he has already talked about being his own private sanctum that he doesn’t like invaded. By the way, he’s going to be known in this blog as the Vaping Viking from this point forward since his Nordic features are all I can really focus on.

He told me to wear my pajamas, so I did.

We watched the A-Team…

That’s the best picture I could get because by the time I took it, well…Ugh, I’m jumping ahead of myself. Let’s start from the beginning.

I came over. I parked in an unfamiliar area. I walked over to his house where he was waiting outside to meet me. We headed upstairs where he had A-Team queued up. I knew as we were snuggling up that it didn’t matter that I specifically put on my ugly panties reserved for the times I’m trying to ensure no one in the world will be getting my pants off…I had probably made a bad choice in coming to his house knowing full well it wasn’t just to watch tv. I haven’t had sex in nine months. I think he’s sexy as all get out with his Nordic features and flowing, long hair…like Fabio with a better nose.

So we were giggling and talking and his hand was suddenly on my leg. He was watching my reactions, and I was becoming more flustered because he was watching me so closely with an open intensity. We continued talking, he discovered I’m ticklish, I discovered he’s just as ticklish,and we were tickling and laughing and wrestling around quite a bit, and before I knew it, I was tucked so closely into him that I couldn’t really tell where he ended and I began.

Then he was kissing me. I must admit, that was one amazing kiss. And it was followed by another, and another, and another, and hands were all over the place and clothes were kinda being tossed wherever all willy nilly, and then I remembered that I couldn’t have sex yet, so I stopped him.

“Wait! We can’t have sex tonight!”

He pulled back and looked slightly disappointed but recovered quickly like a gentleman. He was okay with it and didn’t try to push me further!

“I mean, it isn’t you, and it isn’t me. It’s my vagina. You can’t put your penis inside it because it’s already full of tampon!”

Then he’s laughing, and I’m laughing, and then there’s kissing and touching and a reminder that you can do a whole lot of stuff without actual penetration. And so we did. A lot. Several times. For hours.

Then he asked me to spend the night. Just. Like. That. And I did.

He doesn’t bring girls home. He hasn’t had sex in two years out of pure choice because he had other focuses and girls in York County are…well…not really all they’re cracked up to be…and so I know he’s not this horn-dog that was simply trying to boink me and send me home. Because while we had fun, we didn’t boink. He brought me into his home and played and teased and joked and kissed me like he wanted to devour every ounce of my being. Then he wanted me beside him all night.

This morning, he made coffee, and I fell back asleep, and then I woke up as he was just about to leave for a meeting. I grabbed my shoes and threw them on real quick, and he walked me down the street to my car. I was half asleep and a little miffed that he didn’t wake me up in time to have more coffee and get my bearings. It didn’t dawn on me until my drive home that he hadn’t planned on me leaving yet. He had his meeting and was coming right back home where he had hoped I would still be. I verified through a text. I was the girl who runs out first thing in the morning. He’s the guy that wanted me to stay.

When we got to my car, he pulled this off the windshield:

I had to pretty much grab it out of his hand…he was insisting on paying it for me. And yes, those are Hello Kitty pajamas. Don’t judge me.

He opened my car door, hugged me close, handed me a vaping juice he had mixed just for me before leaving his shop yesterday. He closed the door behind me, and he watched me drive away. And we’ve been texting all morning since I got home.

I don’t spend the night. It’s been a long time since I’ve spent the night beside someone. I don’t know what I was thinking or why I wanted to sleep beside him and wake up more than once to find him also awake and covering me back up under the blankets that I kept kicking off. I don’t know why it was so nice or why I wasn’t scared. I’m always scared when it becomes that intimate. And let’s face it, there’s not much else that’s more intimate than sleeping in the arms of someone…fully trusting that while unconscious, they won’t murder you. Or worse…look at the messages and pictures in your phone…

I know it isn’t forever with the Vaping Viking. He’s selling his shop and leaving PA within the year. And I don’t have those “OMGAWDS” kind of feelings, either. I mostly just have the “I like him enough, and I like how I don’t feel pressured, and he’s pretty, and I forgot what it was like to sleep in the arms of another all night…to have someone make me coffee and walk me to my car and kiss me like he has waited his whole life to kiss someone like that” kind of feelings. I don’t know if that’s wrong, either…to be so intimate when it’s such an indefinite thing. Or is this really embracing the moment and one of those living for now come-what-may experiences that I sought after to begin with?

I asked myself if I should stay or go, and I stayed. And I’m pretty sure I’ll be doing it again…

Patterns

In the last two years I have dated:

(In proper order)

*James L.
*Jeremy J.
*Javier R.
*Jason H.
*Jason B.
*Jason P.
*Jamie S.
*Rich W. (Crazed man who started a nine hour standoff with state police when I ended things)
*Jay P

Only one wasn’t a J name.

I’m definitely seeing a pattern of J’s coming through my life. And I will never again date three Jason’s in a row.

Last night, James C. flat out threw his hat in the ring. He fished for sex a little but accepted ahead of time that I would say no because he knows I’m practicing celibacy and am waiting to have sex again until I am in a committed relationship.

So then he sent this which ensured he didn’t make me drop him and think of him as nothing but some guy wanting to get laid:

He’s kinda cute with his long blond hair and pretty blue eyes. He smells nice, too. He owns a vape shop, and I’ve already hung out once. Now I’m on my way out the door again to hang out with a man with a J name and watch YouTube videos and sit on his couch and giggle like teenagers over the silliness and just exist beside someone who wants to boink me but is respecting my boundaries. How nice…a guy who proves he thinks I’m boinkable but can control himself and accept my stance without trying to argue with me about it.

Even if his name does start with a J, which has proven to be a pattern that breaks my heart when given the chance…