Lies and marriage, love and dating..

Wow! So much has happened in the months that I haven't been able to post, but we are gonna skip the little dating dramas for today and go straight to the biggest!

Accidentally dating.. a married man.

Not that I dated him on accident, that was on purpose, I was just unaware of his being married when I did it!

So.. met this guy a while back, we talked and really hit it off. We go on date one, and I knew I wanted to keep him. He was sweet, attentive, kind of a hottie, and had this look in his eyes that made me melt. We became inseparable, except when he had his kids. Three beautiful daughters, one of which wasn't actually his, and he spent every other week with them. Ok, I am fine with that. When he didn't have the munchkins, we spent every moment together. He said the L word, I said you terrify me.. he kept saying it anyway. I felt it, I wanted to say it, but we all know I have tons of trust issue baggage.. so I didn't say it. Every time I said you terrify me, he knew what I meant.

I got to know this guy, his fears, his dreams, his past.. or at least that's what I thought.

Turns out, with the exception of his name, everything else he said was a lie. He has four kids, all his. No job. No car. No money. His week long visitations with his kids was actually just going home. His wife supplied me with these details.

I wanted to feel sorry for her, I had been in her position. Finding out that your husband (or boyfriend) is cheating sucks, so I attempted to put her at ease, at least I was concerned. I let her know I was no longer going to see him, and then moved on with my own grieving. Until.. she starts stalking my fb and making snotty comments on her own wall regarding my pain and anger towards Robert.. calling me a whore, an idiot, and a liar. Whoa! Back it up sweetcheeks! The second you said we are married and together, I dropped him. Period. I don't do married men, in any sense of the word! I blocked him on my phone, I blocked him on fb, I erased every trace of him from my life. Yes, you have a right to be angry, but not at me! You know what kind of "man" he is, but you want to pretend that it's MY fault he cheated.. I don't fucking think so! I can't feel pity for her now, she deserves him. He is going to cheat, she is going to let him, sounds like a perfect match to me. The last thing I saw on her wall, before I blocked the crazy bitch, was a post about how I may be younger (I am at least 10 years older) prettier (well duh, I am a hottie) and have a better body (I suppose if you had cranked out four kids in five years your body might be a bit jacked up) but that didn't mean her husband wanted me, how she was a good woman, and everything I had would fade. Umm really? I respect her right to be mad, all I ask is that same curtesy. If I want to say that Robert Herrmann is a lying piece of shit not worth my time and that I am far to good for the likes of him.. I get to! I'm not angry because she is his wife, I am angry that he didn't tell me. He is the one in the wrong, not me, not her. To blame someone who was unaware, and who changed it the instant they got the info, all so you can keep your lying, cheating, coward of a husband, is insane and sad.

Keep him Rindy. He is all yours. But before you start pointing fingers at his victims, maybe you should take a good hard look at the "great man" you are married to.

Ok.. that's off my chest! My heart has been played once again, but I am a fool for love so we all know I'm not ending my search for MY guy. Next time we can discuss the winners that led me to Robert in the first place.. like the beer, Broncos, and boobs guy.. or the I want you to wear a strap-on and do me in the ass guy, and the ever popular I want a relationship but only after we sleep together so I know you are good in bed guy. Yea, dating sucks.

Not broken, just bent..

"We're not broken, just bent.. and we can learn to love again"

Those words reached inside me and touched the part of my heart that I had locked up tight. Was this true.. was I just bent after all.. and not the shattered mess I thought I was for so long? My heart said, quite clearly, that it was time to find out.

I whined for MONTHS about how I never got any attention from men.. but damned if the second I decided to date again that I wasn't fighting men off with a stick. There was a decent quantity of them, and for a minute I enjoyed the sound of my phone blowing up. From friends that had been waiting for YEARS to set me up, to an online dating site, I became a popular girl.

The quality, however, left much to be desired. Most of these guys never got past the first day of conversation. The few that did.. well.. we ALL know how those dates went (http://emily-coffeeandcigarettes.blogspot.com/2013/05/reasons-to-stay-single.html) There were a few other dates that didn't make my list, but let's just say they were almost as wonderfully magical as the top four. Then, I found a few good ones. Sweet, good guys I could talk to, and laugh with, have a coffee with no pressure.. one who even called just to sing me a song. All great guys, and not one made me feel what I was missing, although I tried.. there was just no 'it'.

 I took a chance on one in particular.. a smart assed guy that looked a little douche baggy and cocky.. THIS guy spoke to the tiny non-bitter part of me. Really? This was the one that made me feel that something.. hmm.. ok then.

Don't judge a book by it's cover. The guy opens my door, and holds my hand, and likes that I am kinda prissy. I shocked him by happily going to the junkyard with him, and not freaking out when he pulled me in for a kiss with his dirty hands. He shocked me with his terrible spelling and intelligent conversation.. he is a weird mix of bad boy and nerd.. and I like him.

He has the sweetest smile, and the saddest eyes, rough hands and rougher edges, he hold me so tight and makes me feel so wanted, so safe and beautiful.. I haven't had one moment of shyness or awkwardness with him. I get a little crazy when we text, because he is horrible at replying with more than 2 words or taking forever to reply at all.. but then he just calls and that makes me smile. This guy..

There are some obstacles, and that's ok. I'm willing to take this as slowly as I have to.. I think he's worth it. He doesn't always think he is, but I don't think I am either, we are just two bent people that can maybe lean on each other for a little while.

I guess I'm not broken after all, and even if this isn't the something special I'm looking for.. He makes me willing to at least give it a chance. I haven't felt this for so long, I forgot how wonderful it is.. fear and all.

 

Reasons to stay single..

Ugh. Is there really anything worse than getting back into the dating pool? It reminds you that not shaving your legs because the cat doesn't care if you are furry is a wonderful way to live.

Seriously, all the prep for a date is ridiculous.. even if you don't think sex will be involved. You shave, and pluck, and paint, and curl.. all to eat some food and chat. WTF? I can eat and talk in my sweats and a ponytail for craps sake. This however is not the reason for today's blog.. just random ranting before we get to..

The good stuff.

I have so far gone out with four men.. and I think maybe I should just quit while I'm ahead.

Let's start with the most recent.. sweet and funny and cute and young. We talked for a week, both through text and on the phone.. getting to know each other. He was adorable. Said the sweetest things, was smart and sarcastic, he would send me random texts throughout the day of shit to make me laugh. We met for coffee.. and it was awful. Awkward and weird.. no sign of the sparks we had before the face to face. Still, we tried to connect, talking and flirting. I walked him to his car, hug, then the kiss. Blah. If there has ever been a more terrible kiss I would LOVE to know about it, just so I could send sympathy to those involved. I wonder if this was his first kiss.. ever. There was a weird where do I put my hands thing, and several head tilts, before he came at me like a passive aggressive goldfish. He sent me a text later, and we had to agree that this was not something that either of us wanted to pursue.

Now, the one before him.. Tall, cute in a granola kind of way, younger by a bit, creative and sexy. This guy is so precious it almost hurts. We have discussed our baggage, our needs, our wants.. gone out a few times, he has such an old fashioned way about him. I like this one.. then he said something that freaked me out bad.. I'm not sure I can even type it out. Ugh.. ok.. here goes.. He was dropping me off after dinner, we were making out a little in the car, nothing too steamy but still decently warm.. he puts his head on my shoulder and whispers  into my ear.. I can't say it! It's just awful! No No No.. ok.. deep breath.. he called me Mommy. Said he wanted to be my baby boy and called me mommy. Gah. Needless to say.. we haven't talked much since that night. I know I should probably at least let him know why I have suddenly gotten so busy.. but eww.. the thought of the entire incident makes my skin crawl.

Guy before that one.. I think is a druggie.

The first guy. Ah.. I have written about him before. This guy is the one I wanted. We are making a half assed attempt at being friends.. but I think that's pretty much over. Smart, sexy, seriously cute, honest and sweet and I trust him.. even now. This is the guy I can be 100% open with. I knew going in that he was in love with someone else. I knew he wasn't going to fall in love with me. But.. then things got weird. Feelings got involved anyway. Then he bolted. Problem is, I can't compete with a chick that needs him. A sick girl at that. He has a martyr complex.. get's used and treated like crap and he prefers that. So I don't count, feelings don't matter, and I gotta move on.

I know that you have to wade through the muck that everyone surrounds themselves with in order to find that  real person.. but damn it's gotten nasty out there.

I'm not done yet, it's really early in the game, I just gotta put on my big girl panties and keep wading. Anyone got a pair of galoshes I can borrow?

Good for you.. good for me..

I have a dilemma, one that shakes my foundation of good sex with no strings, and I am rather annoyed with myself for the mess I am making. 

It started innocently enough. Cute young guy is interested in me, added bonus.. I am interested back. We talk, we decide on dinner and see what happens. What happens turned into take me right here now, and do it again tomorrow as well. No problem. He's not a keeper, he's too young and into someone else.. no strings! Finally. 

We don't talk quite as much. He seems ready to make some kind of gesture to this other girl. Wait, I'm not ready yet. If nothing else, I like talking to him.. and kinda miss not doing that. He is the first guy I have been open with in a really long time. We are sort of friends.. and even though I know this isn't anything other than a fling I have discovered that I like knowing he is around. 

Yesterday I was feeling tender (girl stuff and this damn project I am working on) and I got a one-two punch that, quite frankly, has me reeling a bit. After hardly talking, up pops a text asking if I know where to get a gift box for jewelry, like a necklace or a ring. Umm.. why would you ask your side chick where to find something for your real girl? I do have feelings, even if I try to hide them.. I have shown that. So ok, boundaries have been re-established. Move on. I found myself in a weird place, I needed to talk and just connect with someone. I reached out to him. My mistake. After a barrage of 3 and 4 word texts, he didn't even bother to acknowledge the ones that meant something, the ones I needed him to see and understand. 

Well. I guess I realize that my whole no strings thing comes with strings.. they just happen to be attached to me. If he were to show up today and tell me that he wanted more, I would turn him away.. but maybe part of me wanted to mean something anyway. 

I spent a great deal of time in my last relationship trying to mean something to someone. I thought I was past that. 

Maybe we never really break our patterns, regardless of the context of our interactions. Maybe we are always going to find ourselves taking the same emotional steps in our friendships, our hook ups, and our relationships. 

I want to be wanted. Even if I don't want you. I want you think about me, with a smile or a sigh or a tingle. I want you to want me.. and I guess it will always be that way.

Can I realistically expect a sexual relationship to have no consequences? When this is over, and we don't talk anymore, when he is home with his real girl and his real life and his real feelings, am I going to be sad because I really only ever meant sex and fun and distraction from those things?

Probably. Not because I want to be the girl, but because I want to think that I am not easily set aside or forgotten. My image of myself is highly over-inflated, I think I am the greatest thing ever.. and when I find out how simple it is for some people to walk away and never think of me again, my ego is bruised.

I am not in danger of heartbreak, but I am in danger of a battered ego.. which may be worse. 

Not the norm..

This isn't my usual blog. It's a bummer so be warned.

When my ex-husband and I were dating, my future mom in law was not fond of me. The feeling was mutual. We argued, we made threats to each other, we generally put my ex directly in the middle of our extreme dislike. Throughout the divorce, we both made sure to place blame on each other for the destruction of the marriage.

 Jan and I slowly found a way to get along. When she realized that I was not taking my girls away from their family, and was not going to turn them against their dad or the rest of them.. we started to build a friendship.

I can say now that I love this woman. She is special and I take strength from the relationship we have found.

This afternoon the entire family has been dealt a devastating blow. Jan has cancer. It is bad. Chances are very strong that we will not have this wonderful woman with us for much longer.

 How do I tell her how much she means to me? I will tell her, through tears and with shaking voice, that I am proud to have known her.. she has been an adversary and a friend, and I do not want her to go. She needs to be here for the latest grandchild's wedding, for the next great-grandchild, for her own children and for her husband who may fall apart without her.

 Jan is the glue that holds the entire dysfunctional family together.. and they are going to implode. I am not part of the family anymore..there are members that despise me and members I truly hate.. but she is still important to me.

I am thankful to know her.. and have hope that she, in her stubborn way, will be here for me to tell these things to.. but not for many years.

Slut Shame?

The thought that a woman is 'easy' because she wants sex is stupid. Women who enjoy sex, who are happy to have sex on a daily basis, outside the 'bonds of marriage' and who admit to having sexual friend or the occasional one night stand are not amoral. They are not loose or easy or full of self doubt and loathing. Men say they want sex all the time.. well guess what.. so do women! Why do we have to pretend that we don't think about sex, or want sex, or enjoy sex, in order to be attractive to a guy?  

 Men can and do have sexual encounters exactly as I just described above, yet it is the women involved that are shamed. We are bitches and hos and sluts and tramps.. never have I heard a guy describe a one night stand without at least ONE of those words being used to describe his partner in crime.

EXCUSE ME??

Why do we have to pretend that we don't think about sex, or want sex, or enjoy sex, in order to be attractive to a guy?  

I am a classy, intelligent, beautiful woman who fucking LOVES sex. I have no shame in admitting that sometimes a random one night stand is EXACTLY what I need, or that I do not feel cheap having a booty call buddy. I absolutely refuse.. yes.. REFUSE.. to accept that because I am having sex when I want to, and how I want to, that I am less 'wantable' than a woman who keeps her legs shut till the third date.

Women that are free with their sexuality are awesome. We don't play games. I'm not going to pretend that I am some shy virgin until you have spent enough money on me to pry my thighs apart.. nor am I going to hike up my skirt in some back alley because you bought me a drink. If I don't want to hump you, I'm won't.. and if I do want to, I will. No arbitrary time line, no dollar amount, no stupid rules that are in place to make me feel ashamed about sex.

If you don't respect me because I put out, that's your loss. I respect me. If you want to believe that I am worth less because I liked it, again that's your loss. I know I am worth more. It shouldn't be a battle to get laid, and fighting for it doesn't make it mean anything. How stupid do you feel when the woman you had to beg won't give you a blow job because it offends her delicate nature?

Don't think that an 'easy' woman isn't an amazing woman.. we are allowed to be both.

Sorry Bob.. but I call BULLSHIT!

Sounds like breakfast..

This little story popped up in my fb newsfeed a few weeks ago, and I have been turning it over in my head ever since. 

A young woman went to her Grandmother and told her about her life and how things were so hard for her. She did not know how she was going to make it and wanted to give up. She was tired of fighting and struggling.

Her Grandmother took her to the kitchen. She filled three pots with water. In the first she placed carrots, in the second she placed eggs, and in the last she placed ground coffee beans.

She let them sit and boil without saying a word. In about twenty minutes she turned off the burners. She fished the carrots out and placed them in a bowl. She pulled the eggs out and placed them in a bowl. Then she ladled the coffee out and placed it in a bowl.

Turning to her Granddaughter, she asked, "Tell me, what do you see?" "Carrots, eggs, and coffee," she replied.

The Grandmother asked her to feel the carrots. She did and noted that they were soft and mushy. She then asked her to take an egg and break it. After pulling off the shell, she observed the hardened egg. Finally, she asked her to sip the coffee.

 "What's the point, Grandma?"

Her Grandmother explained that each of these objects had faced the same adversity - boiling water - but each reacted differently.

The carrot went in strong, hard and unrelenting. However, after being subjected to the boiling water, it became weak.

The egg had been fragile. Its thin, outer shell had protected its liquid interior. But, after sitting through the boiling water, its inside became hardened.

The ground coffee beans were unique, however. After they were in the boiling water they had changed the water.

"Which are you?" she asked her Granddaughter. "When adversity knocks on your door, how do you respond? Are you a carrot, an egg, or a coffee bean?"

I have allowed myself, encouraged myself even, to become the egg. Hard and unyielding, wrapped up in a shell that does not protect my soft insides but hides the hard and cynical center of me from view.

I always believed that I handled life's difficulties well, gaining wisdom from my mistakes and fighting the injustices as best I could. What I discovered however, was quite different.

 I let every negative thing in my life harden my heart. I was not learning from my mistakes.. I was using them to build my armor. I railed against circumstances I would never gain control of, never change, taking every rebuff as another reason to mortar my walls high and strong. I unwittingly formed an unbreakable barrier between me and the world, all while believing I was only creating a thin shell.

These walls do not serve me well. They keep out love and friendship and happiness and hope.. and hold in fear and pain and loneliness and regret.

 I am tired of living inside this fortress, and I have begun to create a doorway.. but because I thought I was only cracking a shell, the process is more involved than I expected. 

I am afraid.

When the door is done, will I be able to open it.. will I even have the nerve to reach for the handle?

I am the egg, but I want to be the coffee.