This is motherhood. Rinse. Repeat.

Your grown children bring you cards and thoughtful tokens like your favorite candy and pretty flowers. They give you hugs and might even mean it a little bit. Especially since they now either are fully, or partially, financially supporting themselves and the occasional advice that you drop, hits like sick beats now instead of just Charlie Brown’s teacher noise. They might see a little value in all you’ve given and taught them.

All the babies are here, they are being nice and it’s fantastic fun. Your man makes you breakfast or lunch, gifts you with chocolate strawberries with cheesecake from heaven. I’m not saying you’re like a whole ass Queen but let’s just say the Queen probably feels like this here and there in her days, you know?

All the kind gestures are appreciated and treasured but all you really wanted was pictures of the kids. It’s not like they don’t know that. You weren’t subtle. You literally and verbally told them for the past 2.75 years every Mother’s Day, birthday and Christmas for fucks sake. How many is that? At least 8 holidays you’ve asked… in a row. It’s not like you’re not the photographer either. It’s not like you haven’t groomed them and raised them this way, it’s not a shock, you photographed their whole lives. So much so, they tell you sometimes to grab the camera! One.fucking.hour. Of one fucking day. Maybe two hours if they participate in the run to old navy or gap outlet with you, which is highly doubtful. The oldest, maybe. She does care about your feelings. But the younger ones? Zero fucks. I take that back, the littlest big one will participate if you remind her because the big sister is in.

The middle one, nah. Today was your day and how dare you interfere with his Sunday golf plans, in the immediate future before the weather feels like the surface of sun, or forever, apparently.

So your coffee is gifted, your brunch is made for you, your gifts are sweet, delivered with a side of hurt feelings and always-on mom duty to correct your children or help them understand the world doesn’t ACTUALLY revolve around them. You decide to end the afternoon with the remaining sun, floating in the pool you’ve spent a week prepping… for this very moment of relaxation. You are just about to get in at prime-sun-soaking, music-playing time and you suddenly have a very sad teenager. Pool float has to wait. You help your child in tears who can’t find something as tick, tock, tick, tock, counts down on sunset times.

You get a partial float time, survive the day, soak up the good parts, walk around the house and take stock on the way to bed at night. You make sure the candies aren’t where the dogs might get them, and BAM… it hits, it may have been a “day off” but what you see around you is that the kitchen is a wreck, the sink is still full of dishes, the laundry sits wrinkled in the pantry and as a goodnight gift, you get to wake up tomorrow for work with all the “day off” work hanging over you. Happy Mother’s Day. Always also RIGHT before Monday. Everybody loves Mondays. Like the gift that keeps on giving.

This is motherhood. Rinse. Repeat.

My Cat Died and So Did My Marriage

This is a true story.

Today was a metaphor for a sad country song. I asked my husband to move out. I felt a primal need to defend happiness and peace in my soul. It really felt as though my happiness and peace were being ripped apart by a pack of wolves on a daily basis. I was watching it happen, overpowered by the sheer strength of the unhappy marriage situation that kept me from my soul’s journey, like a pair of shackles underwater.

For months, I have felt a deep burning inside that was much like a churn, but also if that churn was on fire.  I pushed that fire down until today, optimistically hoping the feelings would subside as they always do in this cyclical 1-2 year funfest of ours, or that maybe magically all of the things I have said 7,495 times would sink into his hard-ass head…. but alas, here we are. No amount of therapy or anxiety prescriptions seem to quiet the internal yearn this time.

The weekly therapy does help me put my thoughts into perspective and organize the root of my lifelong PTSD, but it also reminds me that over the last 19 years, maybe he actually isn’t the one who has changed, I am.  I watched a Steve Harvey video today where he said something I found somewhat profound, “you don’t need a collection of red flags, one is enough” or something like that. Somewhat enlightened after hearing that, I look back and all red flags were right there, just showing up as brighter shades of red in the rear-view mirror.

Back to today’s metaphor. If I were a man that lost his truck, his wife and his dog today, this day could be the verses of a bad-ass, sad-ass country song. But I’m not. I’m a strong independent woman SICK AND TIRED OF second-guessing her self-worth based on the observations and extreme righteousness of a man with an armor coated cloak of oblivion that is not of this world, all forced to hasten the descension of my testicles at warp speed and demand myself to love myself as much as I do those closest in my world. Also, it wasn’t really a metaphor for today.

The verses of the song speak of how we have the conversation. We walk inside the house, my face has swollen itself to itself at this point and I need to clean myself up because his parents said they were in town and on their way over right now. I am not allowed to discuss this with them while they are here for the next 4 weeks (what?!)!

Just as I was taking my newly descended testicles for a spin down the hallway to wash up, I heard the cat once again taunting, hissing and spitting at the dog. I assumed it was from behind a closed door and usually the door stops evil from getting herself munched. As I turned to look, she was not behind the door, she was under the bathroom counter, 81 pounds of Belgian Malinois that she has been double-dog daring to eat her for 4 months now staring into her soon-to-be-departed soul.  I tried to save her. I tried to get him away from her but the Dutch Shepherd and second Belgian were already there with him, also snout-first into death town. I screamed for my husband at the top of my lungs. I screamed for my son, I screamed for what I felt inside at that very moment (which was powerless, helpless, traumatized and primal)… just like what was happening simultaneously in my soul, my marriage and also right in front of me.

My dogs literally attacked and killed our cat in front of me and all I could do was scream. I thought they were going to rip her tiny body to pieces. They didn’t, but our dog literally clamped his jaw on her so tight that it crushed her organs and mortally wounded her. It was a deeply primal pack response to a cat I lovingly referred to as the White Devil.

She was the cutest, softest, cuddliest cotton ball, part Siamese, cross-eyed cat. But she was an asshole to dogs. She taunted them, hissed at them, spit at them and started shit on a regular basis. Before I had her front claws removed, she would torment the dogs, then scratch their eyes out until they were bleeding. To humans, she was definitely a trick. Super cute. Until a dog came anywhere near her, even if it was minding its own dog-business.

I both loved and hated that cat. I tried to save her, he tried to save her, we all tried to save her but her need to be White Devil to the dog ultimately ended in what we call natural selection and her meeting her kitty-cat maker sooner than expected, leaving us all traumatized by dogs silencing her, as any pack would.

As I took my other cat to my Grandma’s house today to remove any possibility that she too could suffer the same terrible fate, I felt a plethora of emotions, more than the obvious ones such as irritated about my tear ducts being parched and sad about the trauma, adrenaline and don’t forget the nausea that hit me along with the hyperventilating immediately after we freed the cat from the jaws of death. I’m talking about deep canyon-sized type emotions – I realized that it was ironic we had this emotional, pivotal end of our marriage. I knew clear as day that when he made me say it so that he didn’t have to, it was over and IMMEDIATELY after our conversation, the dogs kill the cat. I realized that the scene that took place in my home today with the animals was very representative of how I feel inside, primal. Let’s just say that I still smell the cat’s urine on the dogs, not even hypothetically, they reek, but I’m too emotionally and physically exhausted to do anything about it except move my fingers to type about how my cat died and so did my marriage. 

Act II, Please

This guy. Video producer/editor guy. This guy is unexpected. He’s unlike any of the other guys so far. I had hidden my profile and deleted the dating app at the same time I deactivated my Facebook account for a 30 day hiatus to focus on myself and my circle of peeps only. There was a cyclone of fuckery that culminated in the decision to not share myself with anyone but my closest people for a period of time. An overwhelming feeling or knowing of sorts, to detach and see what happens.

We had only chatted pleasantries on the app for about 5 days, nothing too in depth or any sort of plan to get to know each other better. Not even a place where I thought I should say anything or thought he would even notice I was gone. Once I deleted the app, I got an email that I had a message from him. “Really?! For Fuck’s Sake”. Those words literally came out of my mouth. The single reason I even considered reloading the app and seeing what the message said was because this dude was so nice and had not once crossed a line as disrespectful or even dished any unwanted compliments. He.was.just.nice.

Since I had decided that kindness was my new #1 quality during this process, as in whether I gave any of my time to anyone moving forward, I decided to trust that decision, not write him off and then to re-download the app and check the message he sent. He left his phone number… that was the message.

I had also decided I was no longer messaging or texting any dudes first, but again, something told me to give him my number and then to just drop it. So I did that, explained that I would be off the app for a while, re-hid my profile and deleted the app from my phone. He texted me the next evening. We started talking about the photo slideshow I was trying to work on for my friend, with him giving me tips on how to get music for it and then he would follow up and ask how it was going and if I was going to steal his jobs. It made me laugh because I really suck at it.

It gave us something in common but also the fact that he would follow up and ask how it was coming along or how my day was, which was also kind of nice, made me continue chatting with him. We texted every day about little things, the Satan’s asshole weather, the animals, a lot about the animals! We started sharing stories, pictures and videos of our animals. We have the same sleep issues so he asks me how my sleep was, or how my day is going. He is consistent and kind.

He asked about me hiding my profile and if I was in the app’s witness protection program, which I found hilarious. I discovered while getting to know him that he’s not just nice, he’s also very funny and creative, which I love and seriously admire! I’ve told him that I talked to him because I thought he was nice but then I found out he was funny. During our getting to know each other, my brother had his second heart attack. When he checked in on me that day of my brother’s procedure, I was so emotionally dehydrated that I told him how my day really was and he was concerned and supportive. That was a big step for me, to just be honest about the real life most painful things, not just the silly get to know you stuff and his response was nothing less than the kindness he had shown over the course of the couple of weeks we had been texting. I told him that chatting with him was a lovely distraction and ending to an emotional roller coaster of a day for sure.

He made sure to check in daily and ask how my brother was doing. I thanked him for that. My friend tells me it is the little things that are the biggest things and there could not be a truer statement when your world gets rocked like that, the realest realization that someone so important to me could be gone. For me, this type of little things is where pleasantries turn into friendship.

I have a hard time relying on men, in particular, to lift and support me. I have worked hard to not only hold myself up and hold my own, so to speak, but to also pick myself up off the ground after countless Mike Tyson-ish blows to the heart and soul from the men in my life. I even removed myself from Facebook and dating-app-land to reflect, remove access, reassess and regroup in heavy part because of the men in my life. Then this man slowly and sloth-like, comes into my life unexpectedly and shows kindness, respect, integrity along with all the other pieces I used to think were more important than anything. So far, he has all of them, ranked appropriately, I might add.

This guy. I did some video clips for my friend’s daughter. She is an amazing softball player and needed short clips for college recruiters. When I told him what I was doing, he offered to put something together with clips, without hesitation. I told my friend and we both said “that is so NICE”. I was more shocked than she was. I couldn’t believe the offer and she looked me straight in the eye-holes and said “why are you so surprised?! This is totally something YOU would do”. That was an important realization for me. I would totally do that for a friend. I just hadn’t met a man-version of me like that yet. I like that, it turns out.

After several weeks, we start talking on the phone, our conversations lasting 1.5 hours to 4 hours. We decide to meet in person. He picked this super cute gastro pub on his side of town, apologizing repeatedly for the drive on my part. I honestly didn’t mind because I really wanted him to pick the place and the time. It’s a nice reprieve from having to be in charge all the time. We had fun chatting and eating, sampled each other’s drinks and laughed a ton. He made me feel comfortable and told me I was funny, which I am, but it’s a huge compliment. He also brought 3 deer antler sticks for my dogs! (Heart melting)

He picked a time that was only an hour before the pub closed. I knew that but he didn’t so when he learned they were already closed for an hour and half as the place emptied out and we were almost the last ones there, I laughed hysterically. He paid the bill while I was in the bathroom and politely told me I could not help pitch in. We walked out to our cars and talked for another 40 minutes until we were both sweating from the heat. We talked about so much stuff with crazy dating stories being one of the topics. I had 2 glasses of wine and am typically a wide-open book so I shared that I write about this dating stuff. He probed further. I did tell him it was a blog that really nobody can see at the moment, and he said he wanted to read it!! (Oh no)… I told him I hadn’t written about him there, which was true at that time… but I’m not ready to share it with him yet. One thing I have learned is not to share all of myself with everyone and this is just for me at the moment… well, and a few close friends that consistently encourage me to write. All of this is for me to learn, grow and evolve as a human but also tell funny or crazy stories. So one day I will share it with him, just not this day. Not yet.

I hugged him, he insisted I take the leftover food and asked for a second hug… it was sweet. There isn’t a crazy story or shockingly inappropriate tale to tell here for this guy. He is directing and producing this friendship with me that makes me WANT to be a part of Act II. He came from behind the curtain, out of nowhere, at a time when I decided to pause the show and it’s like he said “hey there, let’s talk about behind the scenes footage” and really it’s a bunch of outtakes that you add to the DVD that sometimes are funnier and more entertaining than the main story line.

Brace Yourself for a Crash Landing

This guy. He’s a pilot. He also has an amazing sense of humor. He’s the one that started messaging me by telling me that he liked what I wrote and that I “radiate” something that he likes. I thought that was pretty original. It wasn’t “hey beautiful” or “sexy curves and pictures” or “have you been serenaded by guitar lately?” or “how do I win your love?” For fuck’s sake with some of these dudes.

He paid attention to the things I said. He knew how to engage in conversation (via message and text anyway). We moved to exchanging phone numbers and he joked about the app charging for love.

He joked about my living in Ahwatukee years prior because he lived there at one point years ago, too. I lived there in a place my daughter referred to as the “40 block”, where all the rich kids buy the good drugs and where our house was robbed when we lived there. It was what I referred to as the longest year of my life… waiting for that lease to end after the robbery. I wanted to leave immediately but that guy I was married to wouldn’t do it. Pilot Guy said “the longest year of my life” sounds like it would be the title of my new show. That shit’s funny. I could have a reality TV show of my life…

He remembered that I hated to cook and texted me asking what I DIDN’T cook that night. It was super silly but funny.

I told him a “little tidbit” about me was that I hate flying… he said that was a big tidbit. The whole being a pilot and such. LOL. We chatted a little more over a couple days. Then we stopped texting. A month later he reached out and we texted quite a bit. Same funny stuff. A little more in depth, actually. We talked about dating stuff and chatting with new people in general.

He told me how a lot of girls want a taller man, I think he’s 5’7”. I THINK he was a little bit bitter about this. He told me how these girls send nudes in the middle of conversations, even sharing some samples with me, and I shared some of my stories with him too (snippets of these blog posts, basically). It was fun. Fun… until I told him I had to stop texting and go to bed because I had to be up early to pick up a friend from the airport. He knew it was a man and said he must want “something” from me. Definitely not. He asked how I knew that and I told him because we were married for 17 years, I would know. Also, between you and me, I didn’t think that I should have to explain this to anyone, whatsoever… WTF? He could not for the life of himself understand how I could be giving my ex-husband (who I have known for 20 years, BTW) a ride home from the airport. He then proceeded to enlighten me to the knowledge that anyone I was dating or with, would have a problem with this and that it wasn’t normal. That breakups were supposed to be just that, not friends.

Attention passengers, I don’t give a flying fuck what anyone thinks about us being friends. Especially some dude that I have never even met in person, not even once… seriously? Buckle up, bitch… this was, in fact, a crash landing. I haven’t talked to pilot guy since.

Give My Regards to the Chef

This Guy. He was nice. Conversation was polite, kind of like an interview but not too bad. He works odd hours as a chef and I told him some lucky lady would think that’s cool and appreciate that about him. He said “but not you? Lol” That made me laugh a little. The conversation wasn’t exciting or intriguing but not rude and disgusting. Although at one point he did say something about a “slight” foot fetish and I almost lost my shit. Not AGAIN for fucks sake. I started rethinking my photos that show my bare feet even. BUT he quickly reiterated that it’s not a full-blown fetish, phew!, he just liked to massage them when sitting around. Ok dude.

He said my profile was “natural and that was the best part”. He was relieved I quit smoking cigarettes because apparently it’s gross to kiss a smoker. He’s glad I use my juul instead. Oh thank god. I wouldn’t want to be someone’s disappointment (facepalm). I am also no fun because I don’t drink soda or much alcohol.

Someone send this guy back to the kitchen and order a new guy. This one doesn’t have any seasoning on it.

Dating School Flunkie

This guy. Academic Guy. I really liked him… as much as you can before meeting someone in person, that is. We messaged for days before switching to text messaging and talking about meeting in person or having a phone conversation. He made me genuinely laugh the most, aside from Pilot Guy. He had smart humor. He was in the same industry as me, probably crossed paths before even. He messaged / texted me off and on throughout a couple of days. I looked forward to it most times. I was running errands one day and I had to pull over, laughing my ass off. My errands took me to Old Navy to grab a few things because zero of my clothes fit now. I told him to stop texting me because I was in a dressing room laughing by myself like a crazy person.

He took that as an invitation to keep sending funny ass shit. So I decided if he was going to distract me, he might as well help me too. I took pictures of me in the outfits and sent them to him to pick some. I would NEVER do that but it was kind of fun, I have to admit. He was flirty but respectful about it. I liked that. He asked about my tattoos and recommended a couple of the outfits but told me to get what I wanted.

We talked about a lot of different topics. Kids, work, rain, artistic stuff and stupid stuff. It was light and fun. Exactly what I thought I needed to be honest. His sense of humor was nice, smart, funny, good timing. So when he said he was going to call me in his Matthew McConaughey voice that sometimes morphs into Bill Clinton, I dared him. So he called me… he was actually funny to talk to. I laughed a ton. Until I didn’t. I was telling him a story and he cut me off and said something to the effect of “well that’s all good for you and all, but I don’t care about that”. It wasn’t those exact words but he was done with my story and my story was not done yet. It was rude as shit. I didn’t even want to talk to him anymore. It was quick for me. I listened to some more of his nonsense and didn’t find him funny anymore. I think he knew it too, maybe not. What is wrong with guys? The first time you talk to a girl on the phone, you at least have to pretend to want to get to know them or let them finish their sentence. See… growth. I am no longer talking to Academic Guy. He texted me this morning and again tonight but I think I will pass. Fail on your part, Academic Guy.

Does not Compute

This guy. Data Analytics Guy. We exchanged some polite messages. He seemed nice enough. He offered to take me out to coffee and suggested we exchange numbers, so we did. There’s not much to tell about Data Analytics Guy. I will give him credit for being direct. Here’s the very first text message he sent me:

“Hi. I’m ***. Would like to know what your expectation is, are you looking for marriage or long term relationship. I am quite focused and looking for marriage.”

So I say “Not yet! We haven’t even met.”

It was clear to me that he did not find me humorous enough because I thought that was hilarious. When I didn’t respond to another message, that I should add wasn’t even a question, he texted me back hours later with “Ok, got it”.

I did laugh quite hysterically at this, but mostly at my own text back to him.

You Should Really Put THAT in Your About Me Section

This guy. He was a hair dresser/pandemic pizza cook, according to him anyway. He looked like a good fucking time, let me tell you what. A little bit of scruff, still had most of his hair, a little grey, smokes pot, funny as shit. He hit me right off the bat with the Justin Bieber stuff. My profile has a section that says something like name one movie or song that you are embarrassed to like and I put “not embarrassed, I still like Justin Bieber”. He used that in his opening messages to stand out. It made me laugh and want to talk to him more.

He wasn’t just funny off the bat. He was pretty funny consistently. I liked that. Laughing was the best medicine for me! He wanted to meet in person. I agreed. We had graduated from stupid dating app to text message and it was going well. He was flirty but didn’t totally cross a line with it. Until he fucking did! We were supposed to meet for coffee at 8am. He texted me early around 6am to tell me he had woken up at 1am and couldn’t sleep so we would need to reschedule. No worries. Insomnia and shit happen. Plus I went back to sleep, which I never do. It was awesome.

He has to work that day so he texts me after work. He is his normal funny, entertaining, flirty self and suggests a couple of days where we could go down on Mill Ave. to get some food and take a walk around Tempe Town Lake. I have a feeling that this has been his go-to before but it sounds fun, maybe. Before we set a specific day and time, he tells me to bring my sexy toes with me…. Yep, my toes. Dude has a very serious foot fetish. He wants to suck my toes into euphoria and also enlightens me that you can actually kiss someone into euphoria and he would like to do that to me. (Record Screetch Sound Here) I’m out. He texts me the next day apologizing for being, and I quote “an inappropriate Pepe Le Pew” the night before. I told him it was a bit. That was my last text message to Salon/Pandemic-Pizza Guy. Just no.

At this point I do slightly wish I could just be a whore that didn’t care about morals, values, personality or fetishes and just go out and get some food, some laughs and some dick. I.just.can’t. I wish I could, but I can’t. I’m sad about this some days. I could be having so much fun. I knew as soon as I talked to this guy that he would be down for fun-town. I think maybe you wouldn’t talk about fetishes before you meet someone in person, but what the hell do I know?! I’m just a normal, optimistic, see the best in people, girl next door that likes to laugh, has specific coffee preferences and likes to get her nails done.

The more I talk to these guys, the more information they share about some of the ladies they have met. I have thought about changing my profile to seeking girls and guys just to see what’s out there but I can’t bring myself to do it. I don’t understand the game of dating. I thought if you want to get to know people, you should be honest about who you are first. That doesn’t seem to be the case from the things I see. The whole idea of putting a facade out there, a highlight reel of who and what you are makes me want to vomit in my mouth. I may not be cut out for this, but I am trying to be open-minded, thinking there must be other normal people out there that genuinely aren’t pricks or sickos and just need a way to meet people. This has not been my experience thus far. So far it all seems like a sick trick.

Turns Out, Mission Not So Possible

This guy. Former Federal Agent Guy. He messaged me and asked if he could call me that day to get to know each other. It was only about 2 weeks after the Nurse Guy breakup. Part of me cringed but the other part of me said “fuck it”, I have to move on with my life. He wanted to talk old school on the phone and sent me his number. I told him if we were really doing old school, he should call me. We talked for an hour and half. He made me laugh. He totally went right in on the failed vasectomy story that resulted in him having a 2 year old! I was dying laughing. Laughter is major points at this point. I had been crying off and on for 2 damn weeks.

I agreed to meet for coffee and games. That sounded like it could be fun. Until the night before our date, he asks me if we can skip my favorite fucking coffee and meet for coffee over a campfire up north with his cool camping gear. What the actual fuck? No dude, I’m not going to meet you in the fucking woods for the first time. In his defense, he did say bring whoever you need to feel comfortable and the more the merrier. Okay listen, let me bring me and my kids or some friends so you can murder me and people I love?! And also how awkward to bring people to a first date/meeting.

I almost canceled the date because of that. I didn’t. I just told him I think he could understand why I wouldn’t do that and let’s just meet for coffee and see how it goes. He was nice. He was slightly surprised or maybe disappointed that I already got my own coffee and brought water out for me but then realized I brought my own water. I really want to let men buy me coffee but I’m also independent and didn’t want to owe this guy anything if you feel me?

We talked for two and a half hours. It wasn’t terrible. He seemed genuinely interested in what I had to say. Told me I was refreshing. That my writing I did on my profile was eloquent. That I’m not like a lot of the girls on the site that have a list of requirements and care more about their hair than the date. He said they had a one or two date scenario but by date three or four, it was the same stuff and boring. I told him about the guy that just messaged me “hot” as his introduction…. he said “well, I’m sorry but you are hot”. He told me I was authentic and funny, didn’t believe me when I said I was an extroverted introvert because I’m so easy to talk to. Whatever dude. I know it so that’s all that matters.

The conversation was good and engaging. When he asked to see my pictures for the soul work I do, I opened Facebook to show him and I had a notification from Nurse Guy. He tagged me in some stupid short girl meme that made me giggle out loud. Jackass. It had been 2 weeks and he missed me. He saw a way to knock on my door but not cross my boundary. Resourceful mother fucker, that one. It worked.

Me and Former Federal Agent Guy talked about jobs and life and how I had to push the state so hard to get child support. He asked if he had done anything to make me mad. He meant like he would never want to have me coming after him like I did with the state but I took it literally and said “yeah, the invite to the woods to meet you for the first time”. That’s when I realized he wasn’t really asking LMAO. So this guy takes out his phone and texts me his home address on the spot. Tells me you can search a person but home purchase tells the most about a person. All of this made me laugh hysterically and I legitimately have this dudes home address in my text messages.

I quickly wrapped up the date to get home and swap my pool cleaner thingy and plan my little 1.5 day trip to Sedona to get the fuck out of here and do some damn soul searching.

I reached out to Nurse Guy on that trip. When I got back, I took updated pictures with my friends and put them on Match after crying for two days and finally getting mad. That’s when Nurse Guy pulled me back in. But only for two weeks before telling me he didn’t want the relationship and bringing me my stuff this time.

One friend said he will be back again in two weeks and one friend asked if we are “done done”. I said yes. She asked how did I know that it was really over this time. I said because this time he gave back the garage opener. He kept it last time. I told her I wasn’t even sure what day we broke up because I was the last to know. He also didn’t want to talk about it which was fucking fantastic. I’ve since had the time to tell him what a jackass he has been so I feel a little better about it but this man has done literally nothing (intentionally anyway) to earn this space in my heart and my mind. I’m fucked. I currently need to let this hold over me that he has, go. I think my inner child sees his inner child and cannot walk away for some reason.

You know how else I know I’m fucked? Because I just wrote more about Nurse Guy in Former Federal Agent Guy’s post. See? I’m fucked.

I rejoined Match and have gotten a couple offers to meet for coffee and an offer for breakfast from Airlines Crew Chief Guy that I missed this morning but the offer stands for a reschedule. So maybe there will be an update with him, maybe Pilot Guy or Hair Stylist Guy. Data Analytics Guy asked me if I am looking for long term relationship and marriage on his first text message to me. It looks like I have to start his blog post stat!

Not Your Average Gaylord Focker

This guy. We met during a pandemic. Yes, I dated a nurse during a pandemic. Our first date, we met for tailgate coffee and talked for four and a half hours. Up until that date and every day after, we texted diary-type confessionals back and forth about who we were and silly shit. He faithfully sent me good morning and good night texts every day as if I was the first thing he thought of when he woke up and before he went to sleep.

Our second date was a movie in the park on the iPad. He was smooth with the movie title selection but not with his moves. We were on the ground on a comforter, FREEZING our asses off so I spooned in front of him. We both instantly warmed up. At the end of the date, he said “fuck it” out loud and gently grabbed my face and kissed me softly like a best version kiss in any rom-com. His lips communicating but sweetly, like they were asking permission to kiss me. Smoother than the first hug he gave me after the first date when I stepped on his foot and he lost balance a little.

I liked that clumsiness. It was charming to me. I liked his heart and his soul and really liked his blue eyes and also his lips too. I liked his family and even his dog. I liked his dumb ass sense of humor. I liked that he challenged me. I liked that he was a sore loser and I could beat him at shit. Even rock, paper, scissors but especially annihilate him at Guitar Hero. I liked that we liked a lot of the same stuff. I loved the way he made laugh.

He told me I was beautiful, sexy and I had a sway when I walked that he liked. He told me that I was a phenomenal lover while we were in the car picking up wings to-go and also said I was fucking gorgeous while he grilled filets for dinner one night. He made sure I was a highly satisfied recipient in bed. That was nice. He even brought me warm washcloths. That was an amazing act of kindness that I’m usually the one doing. He told me that he wanted me to be his person one day while carrying me around the pool. He made me laugh, like really laugh.

We graduated to sleepovers quickly because of the distance between us and pandemic-time. We didn’t have many places to go and spend time together. It was an amazing way to really get to know each other and our families. I quickly lost my fears of sleeping with a man in my bed and sharing myself with someone new. I started to trust his words and actions. I had no reason not to. It really was amazing. Then shit hit the fan.

It wasn’t all good. 6 weeks of going through his med changes. Being a part of that broke my heart into 1,000 pieces. Not just because I watched the person in front of me disappear, but mostly the human part of sitting with someone while they struggle and either not be able to help them or they don’t want you to. That was brutal to navigate and be kind. But I did it. I didn’t like the ups and downs. It left me second guessing myself more than I can handle.

I went through the breakup and getting my stuff from his house with no explanation and zero emotion after 3 months of sleepovers, a vacation together with the kids, silly adventures and a lot of laughs. I wrote this THANK YOU/FUCK YOU piece after that breakup but before we got back together… yes I did that dumb shit, I gave him me AGAIN after he sucker punched me in the heart the first time. I like to make real sure the horse is dead and on fire before I give up. Also, I didn’t think this clumsy guy had that much game but as my friends point out without taking a breath or letting me finish saying he has no game, tell me “well he got you didn’t he? He had to have some game”. Bitches. I hate when they call me out but love them for it at the same time.

Here’s the piece I call THANK YOU, FUCK YOU:

Thank you for making your time with me and towards me a priority in your life for a short time and then ripping it away but leaving me dangling on a string of gut wrenching unsure-ness.

You showed me that I was worth the care, time and attention of someone just because of who I am and what I represent in the world.

You showed me how to accept myself exactly as I am but still want to be better.

You showed me that I was beautiful, kind, funny, sexy, caring, attentive, thoughtful and that I could overcome my fears of opening my heart to someone new as part of my growth by being kind and wanting to know me.

Once I was sure that I wanted to try to open myself up to you, you rolled away from me night after night as I tried to support and care for you and I challenged myself to stay instead of run. You showed me that my heart is not hardened by the hard stuff I’ve been through and that I might want to try that again with someone else.

You showed me that with the right person, I would want to sleep next to my best friend again one day after getting very comfortable sleeping alone for 13 years.

You showed me that my body was beautiful and I should not be so self conscious about it even when you no longer wanted to touch me or kiss me for no reason. I could still love someone in the verb sense of the word. That I could give and give with nothing in return because of the right reasons …but also that it didn’t feel good for me after a long period that didn’t make any sense. That’s growth on my part and a gift that hurts but a gift all the same.

Thanks for ignoring me and withdrawing your attention when I didn’t understand why. You taught me what not to accept from someone who says they like your face and your everything but doesn’t mean it.

Thank you for blaming my life and my dogs for not wanting to share my life with me after no explanation and a promise to engage when you were feeling better. It showed me that that’s not the person for me. It showed me that the right person would do anything to make time for me if I was important to them. That is a blessing for me. I won’t soon forget that.

Thank you for teaching me not to give all of myself to someone that tells you that they want you to be their person. You taught me that I don’t want to close myself off or not be myself but that not everyone deserves all of me. I also won’t soon forget this either.

Thank you for being interested in my life, my work, my life stories and then acting disinterested or even annoyed if I wanted to talk about it. You taught me that even if someone says they want to know your life and your “crazy”, sometimes they don’t mean it and those gems of who I am matter to me and should matter to someone who really actually wants to be my person.

Thank you for making me think about my love language(s) even if you didn’t really want to know what they are, even after asking me. It still made me think about what it is that I want and need in a partner. You showed me what I wanted and needed and yanked it away. Piece by piece I learned what it was that I didn’t want to live without.

So even though you hurt me in the deepest part of my heart, I learned a lot. I felt a lot. I took a lot of steps on my journey of loving myself and now I know I won’t accept less than what I deserve but also that I’m capable of loving and giving myself to the right person. So for that, thank you.

I will miss your hugs (they are amazing) but not the way you withheld them without warning or cause.

I will miss kissing you but not the way you changed it to a cold peck as if my lips offended you.

I will miss having sex with you but not the way you rejected me coldly and matter-of-factly as if I should just automatically understand that, making me afraid to open up that very private part of me to you.

I will miss sleeping next to you, especially when you reached to pull me closer in your sleep, but not the way you turned away from me before bed without even saying goodnight, something you said was important to you as we got to know each other even if couples were fighting and also the thing about being able to agree to disagree.

I will miss your good morning and good night texts that came…but not the way it felt when they just stopped without a second thought and the little blip of sadness I had that they were gone.

I will miss the silly stories we exchanged about our days and mid-day checkins with each other as if we chose that together but not when it turned into just me pretending that I should still send them when you didn’t, just because that’s who I am. Even though I was confused and bummed, but optimistically being me and not letting your changes change who I am. All with a terrible feeling in the pit of my stomach every damn time.

Instead of using your words like a grown ass man, you gave and then withdrew your attention, time and touch as if I had a plague. It was hurtful, dishonest of sorts and completely cold. It’s cruel to withhold affection in a relationship but it’s a special kind of cruel to give it and then yank it away suddenly without any words spoken. I would never do that to you, just as another human being but also as my friend. That tells me that I don’t even have your respect as a friend.