Random thoughts

I know you love it when I’m all scatterbrained and I post anyway. I just know you do. So, just to oblige you, here is this:

• I adore the smell of fresh clean boy with manly soap. Seriously. Whatever they put in men’s soap and deodorant is like crack to me. Mr. Big is now talking about leaving his soap in my apartment for just this reason.
• Secretly, I’m sure he will never do such a thing. Because that would mean something of his would live at my place. And he is especially phobic about stuff like that.
• I am still battling that f-ing cat litterbox smell. I’m starting to think it’s all in my head. My friends say my apartment doesn’t smell, and yet I smell it every time I walk in the door. What’s up with that? And please send help.
• I am tired.
• Today is a very weird day. By the end of it, I’m sure I won’t like it anymore. But right now, in just this second, I can find at least one thing to be grateful for. I could find more if I got another email. Although I feel I may never, and I will be back where I started.
• I don’t know how, but I still miss him. Maybe I always will.
• I am on the verge of making a new life. Teetering on the edge really. Just dipping my toe into the pool. Just one little breeze and I’m all in. Go on, I dare you…. push me.
• I’ve been looking for reasons to start over for months now. I am just starting to realize the only real reason is just for me. And I am ready in so many ways. All I need is a little help and I’m there. I will make this happen. I think.

Happy accident

Sometimes I truly believe that real life is far more amusing than anything I can make up. And so today, I offer you a true email exchange that has just happened to me. Word for word. Only names have been removed to protect the guilty.

It all started when I got an email from a complete stranger today. In it was a picture of two people I didn’t recognize… a guy and a girl. No text, no explanation. And clearly not meant for me as the people were complete strangers and the email address was unfamiliar. So I replied…

Me:

The guy in the picture is available if you’re interested.

Thanks

Me:

Well he is cute, and I am single.

Also, this is seriously amusing!

Him:

Now this is beautiful, making the best of a situation.[He] is an interesting guy, he has a steady job as a Carrier Coordinator, he is an accomplished musician and teaches the guitar, he is also a standup comedian. Quite a catch if you ask me.

What do you look like OneDateWonder, I think it only fair that you send a picture of yourself since you know what [he] looks like.

Me:

Fair is fair. Although I have no idea where you are, this is me. (I attached a picture to this email.)

Him:

Well, I’ll forward your information on to him and if he is interested, he’ll reach out to you.

Nice to meet you OneDateWonder.

Me:

Nice to meet you too. This is by far the most amusing thing that’s happened to me all day.

Now I recognize that is probably the last I’ll ever hear of that. But still, how funny? I know I’m still laughing.

Something fun!

Time for a non-alcoholic pick me up. Mollie over at Musings of a “Crazy Cat Lady” has quickly become just one of my favorite all around gals. She is sweet, and positive, and can even disagree with me gracefully. Which, truth be told, is hard to do because I’m a little stubborn sometimes. (Only a little!)

Anyway, she has graciously invited me to provide some advice to her and her readers regarding the wonderful wild and wacky world of online dating. So hop on over to Musings of a “Crazy Cat Lady” and check it out!

(Disclaimer: Mollie may love kitties but is not indeed actually crazy. At least, I don’t think she is…)

How NOT to be a bridesmaid

You know, I like to share advice here to enrich my readers’ lives. Just my own personal little service. A gift from me to you. I’m just nice like that. So, in the spirit of giving, I would like to tell you how not to be a bridesmaid.

First of all, you should not be laid back. This will apparently piss off at least one of the bridesmaids. I will explain in more detail later.

You should definitely not drink red wine all night and forgo the simple rules of hydration such as…. you know…. to hydrate. Water is not your enemy. You should probably also not start bumming cigarettes off of the mother of the bride in your drunken stupor. Because she will give them to you, and you will smoke them. You should also not take the closing of the bar as a reason to speed up drinking. You should however remember if your father is attending the same function, so as to avoid doing anything stupid in front of him in your fancy dress.

As a brief note to the staff at wedding type establishments, you should probably not hand sparklers to a crowd of drunken people. Won’t always go badly…. but it could so very easily.

You should not tell a couple of drunken male friends that you had a nice conversation with a guy. Because they will inevitably decide you should bang him and harass you all night.

You should not ever go swimming in the wee hours of the morning when none of you have bathing suits. This may result in you getting into a pool in your pajama top and someone else’s slip which you will then forget to return.

Apparently you should not begin a deep discussion with that bridesmaid you pissed off at the very beginning of this list. This will result in her telling you how abrasive you are and that you hurt her feelings. At that point you definitely should not apologize to her, no matter how much you would like to smooth over your dear friends wedding day.

At this point a husband of the pissed bridesmaid would like you to know that you should not fall into the fountain in front of your guest house. Because everyone will laugh and no one will believe it was on purpose. Also, you will smell like a sewer afterwards. Your wife will force you to shower before you leave for home in boxers and a button down shirt. She will also get pulled over on the drive home and that just won’t look good. (However, you should feel free to snicker if such a thing does occur. Because that is seriously funny.)

You should not use the bathroom in your guest house to wash your face, pee, or vomit. Because you will see freaky little bugs in there no matter which you are doing. Sometimes on the floor, sometimes in the washcloth, and in unrelated news sometimes dead in your bed.

The next morning you should not go to breakfast if you are not feeling 100%. Because you will get to the top notch quaint little restaurant on the property first thing in the morning and promptly start to feel not so good. You will then locate the teeny tiny completely unsoundproofed powder room which has just been impeccably cleaned. And you will defile it with the aforementioned red wine and lack of hydration.

You should then not imagine you are fine and get in the car with the bride’s parents to drive back home. Especially if the drive is over an hour long. Here is why. About five minutes before you get there, your stomach will get very angry. To the point where you have to let the parents know. They will speed up in an effort to avoid disaster, but it probably won’t work. Eventually your urgent need to empty your stomach will overcome all decency. Your friend’s parents will pull over in font of a stranger’s driveway. And, in a moment of complete fabulosity, you will hop out of the car and be sick. On a stranger’s driveway. In front of the bride’s parents.

I think we can all agree that it definitely a comprehensive guide on how not to be a bridesmaid. Hypothetically speaking, of course.

Virtual Bandaid

I still hurt. I still don’t understand why. I am still startled and off balance over the whole thing. I am still wounded deeply. I still wish he would call, or write, or reappear. That we could talk. That this was all a bad mistake that we could go about fixing.

I’m tired. I will be sad for a while. Very sad. I don’t know how long. Probably longer than you think I should be. I will cry when no one’s looking.

BUT…

I’m done bleeding all over the internet. I have unlimited space and permission to do it, but it’s stopping now. This is me slapping a bandaid on it and pretending I can move on. I will fake it til I make it as that is the only option left.

I pulled him off of my IM list so I can no longer follow when he logs on and off. And, as badly as this hurt today, I deleted his contact info from my phone. I can no longer call or text or drive us both insane. If he wants me, he will have to take a step. I am here if he does, and I’m gone if he doesn’t.

As I grow stronger and the silence continues, I will remove him from other places. Until I can go for a day or two or even three without wondering, without looking, without seeking him out somehow. I will force myself to come around.

The stupid Tums are still on the counter though. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe.

Self Indulgence

I didn’t change the sheets last night after all. Instead I touched the empty space next to me and admitted I had not been ready to let go of that yet. I admonished myself for a while, then I slept. Mercifully, I did not dream. That I couldn’t have handled.

This morning I opened my eyes and bcame determined that today would be better. Once I got in the shower, I remembered him telling me how he was not all men. How he was going to prove to me that some men are different. And I realized he had failed. He had done exactly what men before him have done. Exactly what I actually trusted him not to do. I tried to get angry over it, but I couldn’t. So I tried not to cry instead. Also, I couldn’t.

Then it happened. I started finding the things he left behind. I must have looked at the spot a thousand times last night, but this morning I saw a bottle of his just laying there in that spot in my bedroom. There was no doubt, it was his. I picked it up to throw it out and got as far as the kitchen, but I couldn’t. So I set it on the counter and stared. A bottle of Tums. This is ridiculous. But there it sits.

I got down to my car and realized he was the last one to drive it. Everything was set differently. I had to take time to put it back. I tried not to cry. I saw the momento he had taken from the restaurant where we had brunch Sunday, sitting in my car. Not with him now, but with me. I remembered how he had talked to my friends while I was in the restroom and told them how he could really see himself with me. I wondered why that wasn’t worth at least a shot. A chance that this could be different, for both of us.

And yet the fear has made it exactly the same as so many things that came before it. Another reason to be broken. Another reason to hurt. And I am so profoundly sad because I truly believed this would not come to this. I haven’t been willing to believe like this in literally years. And if something in this doesn’t give it will be so many more before I do again. My friends insist this will come around, because there was so much there for both of us. I tell them I can’t afford to hope anymore. And yet I think we all know a tiny corner of my heart is still lit with exactly that.

I remember the crushed look on his face when he told me he never wanted me to have another night like I did two nights ago. When I fell asleep crying in his arms. What he never knew is that that night was so much better than last night. Where I ached and hurt and cried and there was no one to talk to or hold me. When I knew that he would not be there to do it again. Last night was infintely worse, and I wonder now if he’ll ever know that. If we can ever fix it.

This morning I remembered all the half formed plans I already had for us. Concerts, and conferences, and roller coasters. How I had already looked at my calendar to see when in the coming months I could go there to see him. How I had already thought out how we could make some events affordable for him to come and see me. How I was mapping things out carefully in my head to make it work, even though it broke all of my rules too. Even though.

But right now he is shutting me out. And there is nothing I can do. I’m helpless. And all I can think is that despite all hope and belief and promises, right now he is exactly like so many who came before. And I’m desperate for him to prove me wrong.

I could have

I could have fallen in love with him. Sometime in the middle of the day on Saturday, I knew that was true. I pushed it off into a pile of things I couldn’t deal with right away, but it was there. Right on the top. An undeniable fact.

I could have fallen in love with him. He was a great kisser. He could cook too. My friends ended up meeting him and loved him. Everyone voted yes. He’s a keeper. He is great for me. I knew all the reasons why I shouldn’t listen. But all those reasons, they’ve gotten me nowhere in life. I’m ready for changes on a huge scale. Ready for risks. Ready for happiness.

I could have fallen in love with him. I was already three quarters of the way there. It was terrifying and beautiful. Are there things wrong with both of us? For sure. Lots even. I am tired and bitter. He is dark. We are both a little broken. But somehow that doesn’t mean we can’t both find happiness, right?

I could have fallen in love with him. But the truth is, now I’ll never have the chance. This One Date Wonder asked him to believe and he said no. So there is no nickname. There are no plans. There will be no future entries. He left early today and he won’t come back. And in the middle of that moment, the best I could do was to tell him not to leave anything behind. You see, I can’t afford to find his shirt or his sock or his toothbrush and have that particular breakdown. In fact, in a few hours when I stop weeping, I will have to change the sheets so I can’t smell him when I’m curling up alone, again. And again. And again.

I could have fallen in love with him. But instead I have another reason never to hope again. Another reason not to believe. Another life I’ll never have. Just another dead end and another chink in the armor I’ve never worn. There is another brick in my wall that no one will get through. My life has become just a series of reasons to believe that it does not actually get better than this. And, as it turns out, it doesn’t matter if I believe or not. Life really is just that hopeless. That’s a lesson I really wish I hadn’t learned.

So I could have fallen in love with him. But, as it turns out, I won’t.

Sneak Peek Into Me

So that guy? From the last entry? Is coming to visit tomorrow. Yep, tomorrow. And here, in no particular order, are the things I am currently worried about:

• I think I can smell my cat’s litterbox every time I walk into my apartment. Not good.
• What if he sees the mess on the bottom of my closet?
• Or the weird way I stash things in the kitchen?
• (Note to self: Now must clean kitchen and bottom of closet as these are no longer secrets. Argh.)
• I’m 31. My body just isn’t the same as it was 7 years ago. I have wrinkles, and spots, and saggy things. I looked in the mirror this morning and looked 31 to myself. That’s never happened before. Now is a really inopportune time for such a thing. Ugh.
• That cat litter thing is pissing me off enough to warrant two bullets. Seriously.
• Should I try to dig extra pillows out of the closet upstairs?
• I have weird moles now. I never used to have weird moles. I’m filing those away with the wrinkles and spots…. so unfair.
• I still honestly believe that guys don’t make passes at girls who wear glasses. Never mind that he already knows that. Just never mind, you know?
• What if this is actually what I’ve been waiting for? What if it isn’t?
• I need to go to the grocery store. I have the refrigerator of the bacheloriest of bachelors. It is actually a joke amongst my friends. Not lying.
• Must clean. Because…. CAT LITTER.

Just for the record, I’m not even fully awake yet. Just wait until later.

Indecision

I am at an impasse. See, the beauty of this blog is that no one knows who I am. So I can rant about dating disasters or wax poetic about my latest crush. Freely even, because they’ll never know. So what then happens if I meet someone as an indirect result of it? I mean, you know, someone who reads the blog?

See, if I go on about developing a school girl crush on him, he’ll know. And if I get the slightest bit optimistic, he’ll see me breaking all my rules. And if I end up being kind of excited about a new possibility, he’ll know I’m not as guarded as I seem.

It breaks all the rules in more ways than one. I have never attempted to use the qualifier “too” so often when describing one person. Too young, too far away, too impossible… and yet. Last night for the first time in I can’t even remember how long (except I can and the truth is even worse) I stayed up way too late talking on the phone just hoping not to hang up yet. And when we finally did, I may have seen him in my dreams.

So he asked what I would call him here and I said I didn’t know. I still don’t. Like I said, I’m at an impasse.

The End Begins

Yesterday I told Mr. Big that I wasn’t going to be able to do this for much longer. That soon I’d need more.

What followed was a conversation about how I pick the worst times and it’s not good for him right now. I told him he asks too much with no concern for anyone else. That I’ve always considered his needs and he needs to consider mine.

He asked if he should start searching for my replacement. I told him if he does that I’m gone right now. He backed down.

He said if I press it right now he’s gone. I backed down.

I know that when I tell him I need more, when I am definite, it’s over. I know I’m so stupid for not doing it sooner. I know that I should have done it months ago. And you know I wasn’t able to finish the job last night.

But I started. Give me strength. I’m worth so much more than this.