Yesterday

I’ve been thinking of Tony on repeat for the past 48 hours.

My son and I watched a movie called “Yesterday” based on Beatles music. The movie is super cute and well worth the watch. I hadn’t heard of it before and it’s about a worldwide blip which erases The Beatles from existence (along with cigarettes and Coke among other things!). A young man takes all their songs and reintroduces them to the world, having to recall all the lyrics and music makes the movie so much fun along the way and it’s entirely singable. Very quirky and unexpected.

All I could think of was “I knew a person who could have been the lead in that movie”. Tony has been in my mind since I’ve seen it. He would take such joy in this movie and it’s silly and sweet journey. I couldn’t help but think of him all during the movie (besides the fact he sang many of these songs over out time together) and in the following hours.

Plus, my son and I have been listening to the Beatles on repeat for 2 days as well.

It’s sort of killing me inside.

So what can I do about that? When something resonates so strongly it becomes a physical thing again. I know what joy he would get watching this movie. I would love to share it with him.

Nothing. I can do nothing.

What did I do?

I posted on IG, and now I know he’s watching. I posted that the movie was fabulous, you should go watch it and “I used to know someone who could be the lead in this movie because he knew every song by heart.” I posted what I was thinking and feeling.

Is it poking the bear again? Maybe. I am not trying to solicit contact. That was the best way I could get this overwhelming feeling out into the universe without reaching out to him directly.

So there’s that. πŸ™„

The First Surprise

Ever since A week ago Sunday I’ve been pretty mellow. Whatever was eating at me, which probably included some PMS, has passed. I am overall less anxious.

I am bummed about Mike. Yep, I still think about it. Is it obsessing? I dunno. Maybe. I am starting to believe it’s just the way I process stuff. Maybe I can’t change that, maybe I can. I still really don’t know. I only know I can control the behavior. I made a last attempt, despite my better senses, and invited him to a party this Saturday. He replied immediately, said he was interested, and then said he had to see what his kiddo was doing. It took him 4/5 days to get back and decline. I suppose at least he’s polite? Ugh.

I also suppose that’s the equivalent of sticking a needle in my eye for a man I’ve only gone out with twice. I shouldn’t have done it. He’s past his expiration and I need to stop.

But it does eat at me. I just wish I knew why with these guys. What is it that I can’t seem to make it past the start? I don’t think it’s sex, I just don’t agree that’s the deal breaker for seeing someone or not again. I believe he met someone else around the same time as me and she’s a better choice for him. Or whatever. Who cares. I need to stop thinking about it.

Tom continues to check in mostly daily. A good morning almost every single morning and then a random evening check in. I will reply like I reply to any friend. But the minute I sense he wants to get sexy I just stop. Sure, I would love to go out with him and give him a sexual spin per se, but I’m not interested in the phone sex with him. He can’t seem to find time to see me and I never ask. If he says something like “I wish I could kiss you right now” I usually say “me too!” And it drops.

At one point over the past weekend, when I was drinking, he sent a text to ask if I was having fun. I replied that I was drunk by that point. He replied with “nice” and then sent a video of his daughter taking a riding lesson. I was seriously like WTF? I write back “Very nice. But if I’m telling you I’m drunk, the last thing on my mind is watching a video of your daughter.” I truly didn’t think he would write again after that little dig. But he did and laughed it off.

That’s the end of the better selection of men the last month. I am bored, frustrated and tired of looking for Mr. Right.

I was scrolling again but matches are non-existent these days. I was surprised to see my first match, an oldie but goodie: Rob.

I reached out to say hello and ask how his kids were. He replied and said “we should get a drink!” So I called his bluff and said “let’s go as friends!” He agreed. A few days later I asked when he wanted to get the drink? I was surprised he made a plan!

We met a week ago Thursday at a local bar and had a fun time. Since I didn’t have any investment in him this time around, I was able to keep the conversation humming along. If I had still felt like he had potential, I may have been frustrated he didn’t ask a lot of questions. He remembered more than I thought. When we left we have an amazing makeout session in the Parking lot. I could feel how excited he was. He felt different than last year, much more confident.

We parted amicably and I sent a follow up text later: how about we are FWB, it could be fun. He replied with an absolute yessssss and 10 exclamation points. Said a few more positive things out thinking it could be a great things and I said goodnight. He said he will ask me out again. That was a week ago. It hasn’t crossed my mind. But it was a nice surprise.

I think I can do it now, FWB. But only with certain men that have no long term potential for me.

I’m still frustrated about Mike and bummed no one can just be honest about what happens.

I know all of this sounds like I’m only focused on dating but it’s not even close. It’s just that I need to write about dating as it’s the most frustrating thing that I can’t handle alone.

Haunted Hay Ride

So I went on my very first activity date! In fact, it’s probably the only activity date I’ve ever been on, come to think of it! I really need to step up my dating game.

It’s been an interesting couple weeks since I realized I don’t have to overthink every man as a “potential” or not. I can enjoy a man just for company. I have a feeling it’s actually good practice for me. Something clearly isn’t going right if I can’t find a man who wants to go on more than 2-3 dates with me.

I met Marshall the usual way, on Bumble and we had a nice online conversation and switched to text. Text turned to phone. I wouldn’t say it was the easiest conversation, it required a bit of effort to keep a flow, but he was kind, sweet and interested. Divorced for many years with an older daughter, a great job, house and dog, well educated and articulate. No immediate red flags.

When I showed my friend his photo they made faces and said “beefcake” or “meathead”. Neither has a good connotation. He’s quite built up in his photos and I get what they see, but his personality is contradictory to his physique, so I wanted to meet him.

He had something I would equate to a boys shyness, which was very appealing. I felt like he liked me and was a bit fascinated he liked me so quickly. It was cute. The conversation never, not even once, wandered into sexual territory. I found him interesting with a diverse background. We hit upon how people change in their lives after trauma. Obviously that would be an instant connection for me and I wanted to learn more. We agreed it was better to tell those stories in person.

Recently, his daughter moved from Brazil back to his home, and he was a sole caretaker of a young adult. He was keeping her busy with whatever he could – and one of those things was horror movies and haunted houses. When he was telling me about them I also got excited because I love them so much and not everyone is a fan of horror. I mentioned to him that would be a fabulous first date and he ran with it! He booked us a scary hay ride for the following weekend!

I was a bit leery that could go all sorts of wrong since it would be a first date, but then I figured I could manage through no matter what. If he enjoyed these things the way I did it would be fun regardless if we were attracted to one another or not. I was looking forward to it.

Marshall wasn’t a constant communicator, but he always made sure I knew he was interested in hearing from me and speaking to me. I couldn’t predict when I might hear from him, but I knew I would. He would indicate that when we didn’t speak that he missed having a chat that day – not in the saccharine way I usually fall for, but more straightforward like “I enjoy our conversations and miss when we don’t connect”. A bit different than the full-on I normally go for, but all good all the same.

Friday night arrived and it was a pleasant surprise for me not to feel like I should get “dressed” for the date. I kept my makeup low key and wore sweatpants and a hoodie with a denim jacket – we were going to a cornfield after all. I’m starting to believe there is something overtly sexy about me which I actually don’t realize and don’t seem to have control over (because I truly don’t fully understand it). I’ve heard the comment so frequently that’s there’s just “something in my look” that I can no longer discount it. No female friends ever hint at anything like this, I don’t look in the mirror and see it (unless I am trying to be sexy, that’s entirely different to me than this thing men keep talking about). My tone of flirting in text, my voice on the phone, my eyes in a photo…I’m not being obnoxious when I say I don’t get it – I think I look like an attractive woman, but don’t feel anything about me reads overtly sexy. This is why I realized I was a bit relieved to be in sneakers for this date.

One of the first things he said when he saw me was “you look great, you’re hair is so sexy.”πŸ˜‚πŸ™„. I can’t win. Lol.

Anyway, I digress. I was pleasantly surprised when I saw him – he was absolutely more slim in person than his photos a no gym rat muscle man was evident. I knew those muscles were there, but he didn’t have that appearance of spending way too much time on the gym to earn the title “meat head “. He was handsome in a non-traditional way and had an easy smile. I knew the night would be fine.

And the night was fine, perfect. There were so many great moments. We really had fun and got a lot of silly scares in massive cornfields! I loved it.

Without recounting every step here were some highlights:

I noticed in the car the conversation was stilted. He wanted me to speak, but when I was quiet too long, he would start up. He’s in sales so I’m a little fascinated how reserved he is overall. He mentioned he prefers to listen than speak.

I realized he wasn’t asking questions. He would answer anything I asked, but I didn’t feel he was as interested in finding out more about me. Conversely, he held my hand the entire car ride and kissed me the moment we stood outside the car. His love languages (he took the quiz when I told him about it!) are physical touch and quality time.

He treated me like a girlfriend. Held my hand the entire time. Pulled me close. Wanted to hold me (we stood in line for several haunted attractions at the farm). Kissed me frequently and deeply. I love this kind of behavior and I fall into it quite easily but since this was unlike sitting in a bar and drinking and overtly flirting, this genuinely felt more intimate. He didn’t let go of me the entire evening, which I adored, but still found super intimate for a first date

While on the hayride he held me while I gazed up at the stars. Despite being around a bunch of people, it was very romantic. He couldn’t take his eyes off of me or his hands from holding me to him.

Our night was excellent. But, not especially easy or fluid in my opinion. We laughed, but not so much because he made me laugh as much as creepy people jumping out of the woods and scaring the shit out of me!

He told me during the evening he didn’t drink and he ate Keto. I know it’s silly but both of those things disappoint me. He is also an “enlightened” type – a Tony Robbins protege who is building his own life-coaching skills. He is always in “presence” and feels his life is exactly where it should be. He doesn’t view not having a partner or being in love as “missing something”. My spidey-sense began to kick in, something wasn’t what it should be. I don’t think I’m ready for transcendence.

We decide to have a drink after the activity. It was at the bar that I heard his story. The short version was that he is an alcoholic, recovering now for about 6 years or so – well that threw me for a loop. The first man I ever dated before divorce was an alcoholic. Frank couldn’t maintain recovery. Marshall was different, he was not only recovered but had moved into a very different plane of life.

Healthy and clean living where fitness is a priority. Mediation every day. No microwave, organic food, sleep monitoring, etc etc. Transcendent. Evolved. Operating on a different plane.

Not. For. Me.

Why do I find someone who has turns their life around so fantastically a bit, well, irritating?

I’m not sure, exactly.

I like my wine. I like to complain. I don’t want to always find the peace in every situation. I don’t think I want to work so hard to change everything to achieve “presence” and “enlightenment”.

And then he says, I’ve done more than most. Yea, so maybe. I find much joy these days in coaching others, but I am inconsistent and can’t really hold myself accountable. I have made a major change in my life, but not to a point where I’m so zen and want to take a 2 week course with a guru in India to talk about my enlightenment.

Don’t get me wrong, he didn’t push his agenda AT ALL. Not even once. I asked a lot of questions. I was curious, engaged and interested. He’s got an amazing story.

And he knew I had one too – but he didn’t ask.

So I found that to be – well, false.

He didn’t ask me questions. I don’t think it’s because he’s not interested, I actually believe because he feels it should come organically – if the story is meant to be told it will be told, but not because he asks me tell it.

It may have been around this time I mentioned that my love language might be an issue for him since I know I’m all about “words of affirmation”. Him sitting waiting for me to tell my stories wasn’t going to happen as organically as he thought – I need to feel someone is interested and engaged and can share and provide feedback. I don’t get that from him. I also need him to engage first more frequently.

Which is interesting…

Because, when you go through AA successfully, you then become a sponsor. He has been a very good sponsor to many, which made me think, could he really be in relationship with someone who didn’t experience the disease? He didn’t have any truly successful relationships in the past several years – nice girls and all for a few months, but no one growing in the same track as him. But he was successful as a mentor and sponsor, which means he has the support skills … so back to my theory he may only understand how to do that for like-minded individuals.

I knew I wouldn’t be either. I didn’t want to be. It didn’t mean I didn’t like him or the time we spent together. I think he’s a good man. He’s a fabulous kisser! But I’m sure he’s not for me.

Once I arrived at my decision, which was getting there all night mind you, his story just sealed the deal for me…I figured I could have sex with him! πŸ˜‚

I asked him home.

We was slow and gentle. Never going beyond what I allowed. I’ve been so horny lately that it was truly hard for me to go slow. This may have been the first time since Tony that I wasn’t tipsy or drunk. All faculties were firing when my pants came down and his mouth was upon me. And…oh my, he is hands down some of the best oral sex I’ve ever received. I came so fast and so hard that even I was surprised. Another fabulous surprise was the size of his cock! He debunked the small hand myth (he hands are small, his feet were not!?). His cock was perfect and we had pretty good sex for the first time. Not especially exciting, but just fine.

After he left, I sent the requisite thank you and he replied. I heard from him the next morning and then radio silence for the entire rest of the day.

I don’t know what to think. He’s a very smart man, I think he would have sensed we were “off” for one another.

Would I see him again? Yes, absolutely. Why not?

But who knows.

Does it matter? Not especially. He comes back, great. If not, that’s ok too. I was grateful for a fun evening and good sex. Even more grateful for his excellent oral skills!

Hello, Tony

I don’t know how long it’s been, since I’ve had any contact with Tony – months and months. A long time for me at least.

I was on Peloton about two weeks ago and I looked him up and he happened to be on a ride. I gave him a “virtual high five” and exited the app. Cracked myself up knowing that would probably aggravate him.

Sometime later he changed his screen name. I thought to myself “wow, he really hates me”. Maybe he does. I fucked with his life and his family. In his mind, I’m the one who did the damage to his family. I just laughs that he would go to the trouble to change his screen name. Obviously I saw it changed! πŸ˜‚

I’m not giving myself a hall pass, what I did was wrong. Even if I don’t feel any shame or remorse over it, I know it was unnecessary for me to text his wife. I’m unsure if I would change it though.

That action created a release in me and I’ve been in the road to recovery since Feb 11th. Maybe not perfect – I’ve sent him text from the burner which I wrote about earlier – but much better. This little bird box (that’s what we call a virtual high five) was actually me being pretty much an asshole for no good reason.

This is what the blog is here for. My honesty. Don’t much care that I did it. Made me laugh at both of us. I laughed even harder when he went to the length to change his screen name.

Forgot about it for several days as I got busy in life.

I’ve been back on social media a bit more again as I’ve found my time to scroll, rather than letting it suck up time that is better spent elsewhere. I’ve always like IG better than Facebook so tend to post there and they have a feature called “stories” where your post only stays up for 24 hours. I usually put my Peloton work up every day to keep accountable with my Peloton tribe. Once you post a story, you can see who viewed your story. Sometimes I look, sometimes I don’t. I pretty much know my regular followers. Once in a while I get some random ones based on the hashtags I use.

Guess who has been peeping my stories?

He hasn’t been there for months and months. Gosh, maybe the last time I saw his name was April or so?

I figured he would look once and then go back into hiding, but he’s been looking every day now.

I don’t feel anything about this other than the curiosity I generated to write this post. I have no desire to reach out to him or speak to him. I assume my little bird box prompted him to look at my profile.

Doesn’t matter much. He will see a different person and a lot of positivity. He can pat himself on the back that I’ve recovered from him. I hope it makes him feel better for what he put me through.

And if it doesn’t, I don’t care anymore.

It’s taken way too long to get here and feel this ambivalence- but at least I’ve made it.

The Second Surprise

Doesn’t matter to me that I haven’t heard from Rob. If he were to reach out I would see him again. If not, no harm or foul, it was a fun date and a great kiss.

He wasn’t the only x to resurface. This one may make older readers more nervous, but wayyyyyy back in 2014 the first man I blogged about was named R. His actual name is Dan since I’ve given up on code names I can never recall. πŸ˜‚

Dan text me for my birthday, which was an absolute surprise, and asked me for drinks. I did the same thing I did with Rob, I called his bluff.

I wrote to him early this week to say I was available Thursday or Friday and I was genuinely surprised he made plans with me! He’s so flakey. I haven’t seen him in at least 2 years. But we have text and he knows I’ve been sick. And, again to my surprise, he was concerned about me – I had just found forgotten he kept in touch when I was sick – until his text came up again and I scrolled back.

I may find an old post and give you at least one of the crazy R stories because I would say he absolutely had the first exposure to Trixie. I don’t even know why he still stays in touch with me. But he does. And I’ve always liked him. I’m just OVER him now. He’s as toxic as Trixie. But he’s fun, oh so fun.

So Dan comes over on Friday afternoon to my home. The day is beautiful and we sit on the back deck. I’m an amazing hostess so I have beer for him and a great cheese plate ready to go. We enjoyed several hours together, and, unlike typical Dan, he was pretty forthcoming with his life. He’s in the midst of a horrifying and ugly divorce ( a lot of that is of his own creation) and he’s still sleeping around with women he doesn’t want to be attached to.

Dan was the first to show me how much fun a date should be. We would laugh for hours. And then fuck for just as long. We had so much fun. He became so inconsistent and I went into full Trixie anxiety mode. He admitted to me this week that he just isn’t a good communicator. He doesn’t care enough. I believe him. I also think when he finds someone he really likes, he will be able to invest. Dan is on his second divorce and has 4 kids, his plate is full and he needs to figure out his life. He doesn’t have anyone he shares with, and he needs it. But until he realizes it, he will stay stuck in the same patterns. I was glad to hear he’s back in therapy.

When he was ready to go, I walked him to his car. We had a nice big hug and I could see lust in his eyes. But Dan loves to BE chased, and (thanks to him) I realize I’m the one who wants to be chawed, not to do the chasing. I do know how he loves it though, so it felt a little like a power imbalance when I knowingly turned away. I really didn’t care. I met him as a friend and I was happy he was there, I didn’t care if there was any more than that.

Cue my surprise. He turned to leave, as did I, and before I knew it…he was pulling me back to him. Our kids was nothing short of fabulous. When I’m excited I have a kiss and sound that brings lost men to their knees, guaranteed. It’s never failed. It didn’t fail with Dan either. He pulled back and couldn’t speak. As he pressed against for more, his cock was so swollen it had to be uncomfortable. I just enjoyed the moment. He’s like the OG. I was enjoying every moment.

He asked why I didn’t do this in the backyard earlier. (I know him well enough now, I don’t have a serious consideration for that question). I replied with “yea, I can’t believe I didn’t because we could be fucking by now” and that put him over the edge. He could barely leave me (he really had to get his young child).

We both left with smiles on our faces. No promises of more. No discussion of anything. I’ve learned over a period of 5 years, Dan will come back when Dan is ready. It took me some time t accept it for what it is, but it’s all good. I like Dan. As a person and sexually.

The result of my ambivalence (I think that’s the best word for it) was Dan texting me multiple times over the weekend – telling me how badly he wanted me. Of course it didn’t start that way, the first text may have been something like ” you missed your chance” to which I would have said ” what a shame since I’m so horny. Will have to find a substitute for the evening”. πŸ˜‚.

I’ve gotten more one line text from him than I expected. I don’t always reply. He’s thinking of me. It may last another day or two or maybe longer. But there is no promise of anything with Dan just like there isn’t with Rob.

I don’t care. He always comes back, as a friend…which is much more valuable to me. If we fuck along the way, great. If not, fine.

Oh, one more interesting point. I’m not so sure what to do about this. Dan asked about my wounds and how I was doing. We talked openly about my fear over showing a man. I showed him the lingerie photo and he thought it was fine for maybe one time, but said he would question what’s up after more than once. Then he said “just show me and I will be honest”. I thought about it, for a long minute. The girth, which I shared with him as well, is that I’m scared to hear him (or anyone) say “yea, that’s tough looking”. Once in a while, the softer side of Dan shows itself and he told me stories about dating two women who had reconstructive breast surgery and how he felt about it. He was honest and open. Was it strange? Yup. Didn’t it stop him? Nope. Did he go back for more? Yes. Because it didn’t really matter to him. Thats exactly the answer I want to hear, but Dan also liked me and fucked me when I was heavy, yes open minded about sizes and shapes with women. He’s not hugely discriminatory as long as he’s attracted. I thought about showing him but I chickened out.

When we were parting, and before the kiss, he ran his hands up my dress before I could stop him, and stopped on my belly and felt the wound. He didn’t say a word and I didn’t ask.

Part of me wishes I could trust Dan enough to be honest, but I know Dan and he’s more screwed up than me. I don’t invest any trust in Dan any longer. I can tell when he’s sincere for the most part, but I’m not sure I could tell regarding sex.

Anyway, the afternoon was fun and I just thought it very funny that he’s the one with me on his mind instead of the other way round. Clearly (over a period of 5 years!) I’ve been able to put him into a safe place I can control. There’s no attachment any longer and I’m happy when he comes as much as when he goes.

The Picnic Table (reissue)

This post is from Summer 2014. It’s still one of my favorite experiences. Β I’m going to let you guess why I’m reposting it so many years later.

******************

 

Close to my home there is a beautiful reservation. Acres of acres of park and forest. And, of course, trails and picnic tables.

One night, after a heady couple of hours laughing, talking and groping at a bar (we should have just gotten a room, we were trying to limit it to “just” drinks for some reason) we figured we needed someplace a bit more private than the bar, car or train station so we headed to the nearest part of the reservation.

We were really like teenagers, unable to keep our hands off of one another. Sometimes it’s no wonder that I fell in love …. he was constantly enamored by anything I said or did. Was always giving me the most lovely compliments and was able to make me belly laugh like no other. Conversation never ebbed and flowed smoothly at all times. He was already able to order food I liked. And he fed it to me! He paid attention to everything. We were like lovers quickly.

At the bar he called his closest friend to introduce us and talk about a potential weekend away which would include me. I can’t recall how many times at the bar he would just stand up to come around my side of the table to whisper something lovely into my ears and neck, and then kiss me passionately. His hand never stopped holding mine. His eyes never left my gaze. He had a certain “little boy, bashful look” he got when I stared at him for too long. He would always say he was afraid there was something I didn’t like. That was never an issue, I liked to stare at him because I liked everything about the way he looked. He had the most beautiful blue eyes and a killer smile. His voice is smoky sexy and makes me wet just to think of it.

When we finally dragged ourselves away from the bar and made it to the reservation it was pitch dark. There was only a quarter moon in the sky and although there were many beautiful stars, the night was not brightly lit. The park was deserted. Due to the lack of light we chose not to enter the woods and instead stayed in the picnic area.

The area has about a dozen picnic tables for large groups and it’s perched just outside of a steep descent into the forest under a canopy of large and old pine trees. The stillness is beautiful.

As he sat on the bench I stood in front of him as he kissed my stomach and breasts through my dress. Small nips made my skin more sensitive. My dress was made of stretchy material that he was easily able to pull down to expose my already hardened nipples. His tongue, gently at first, began a swirling motion that caused my back to arch and I grabbed the back of his head to push his face in further, forcing him to suck harder. I am so responsive to his touch that I feel myself begin to drip with pleasure immediately. He continues caresses and then alternated between flicks and deep sucks on both breasts, making me wild.

As he pulls away, I sit astride his lap and feel him hard, stiff and especially aroused beneath the thin material of my dress. We are making out like mad and dry humping when I feel my dress rise high above my hips as his hands search for my sex. “Get up on the table, I want to taste that pussy. It’s always so delicious.” As he lifts me up in one motion and puts me down on the table (no small feat but he is so strong) he is also pushing my legs wide apart. He has two, maybe three fingers inside me now. I am begging for his mouth.

To be honest, I wasn’t quite over my monthly. I did tell him this in the
car and he said he could care less. I was not only worried about what he thought but how I would feel during this time of the month. I was so sexually charged by him at this point I had almost entirely forgotten to be worried about it.

He sits on the picnic bench and attends to me like a starving man at a feast. First slowly, savoring my juices, then more quickly lapping at me hungrily. I cum in his mouth almost immediately when he pushes his fingers deep into me, hitting the spot that makes me weak. But then his other hand travels around my hip to find my ass. Fingers slid into my back-end as well and everything begins to throb as my second orgasm pulses through me. I want him in me now but he refuses to release me. “This is my pleasure” he tells me, “to make you cum over and over.”

My legs wrap up and around his neck and shoulders. My hands are grasping the sides of the table.

I lost count in the delirium that followed. I don’t think I’ve cum more than twice in a row by another’s hand (or mouth and hands as was the case). I know my moans became louder and louder to a near scream of pleasure. It was at this point he stopped, abruptly, and said “there is someone walking out of the woods, it looks like a jogger!”

Later he said there was no doubt that the jogger, and probably the next town, would have clearly heard my orgasms. It became a running joke.

I know we went up to that park around 10pm and by the time we left it was around 1am. Hours and hours of pleasure just for me, with no regard for his own. He was thrilled to be so generous, claiming he loved to give over and over until I was weak. And I was weak, I couldn’t barely walk back to the car.

Not that I didn’t try getting him to fuck me in between various positions. Fucking over the side of the picnic table in the complete dark is seared into my memory. I love the outdoors and this would be the first of many visits to the picnic table.

When we got back into the car and kissed, my smell and taste was all over him. I don’t think there was a part of him that wasn’t wet with me at some point of the evening. Hours under the canopy of trees and stars, breathing in fresh air was spectacular.

As he pulled his car behind mine to drop me off we had a hard time separating for the evening until his phone began to ring off the hook again. Twice out til 2 am in the space of 2 weeks wasn’t a good sign for his home life.

That and the fact R sort of looked like (these are his words) he killed a small animal and ate a jelly donut. Again, it didn’t seem to bother him so why should I let it bother me? I have always felt “dirty” during my time of the month as my x was never interested and was a bit grossed out even at the height of our relationship…R made it feel so natural and womanly, made me feel like it was just a normal part of life.

One of the smallest and sexiest things R did that night was send me a photo a few minutes after we parted of my rings on his still cum stained fingers. I had left them on the seat of his car and had forgotten about them.

We had made our mark on the picnic table and planned to be back, soon.

Dating Scam

There’s a newish app called Hinge. I’ve been on and off it and I find it very, very strange. But I have friends who say that it works for them.

I find that I consistently get the same type of scam. Now, if there is actually a scam I wouldn’t know because I smell something and cut it off quickly. But it sure feels like a scam to me.

The man is generally in my age range, handsome and fit. They want to get off the app quickly. Their English never seems quite right to me. Obviously I’m well spoken and well written so I pick up on these particular nuances relatively quickly.

They are always in the oil business or the army. They are away from home. They are ALWAYS widowed with a young daughter. The daughter is away at boarding school.

Now, if I lived in, let’s say, Hong Kong, I wouldn’t think twice about someone saying their child is in boarding school. But here, in the USA, this is very uncommon. Especially when it’s a small child. Sure it’s possible, but it smells off to me.

The story fits, a single Dad who is deployed offshore somewhere would need his child cared for full time in a boarding school.

This happens over and over and over and I never get past the initial story because it reeks of scam to me. One of these days I may try to carry it forward just to see what they are trying to get from their prey. Money?

They always ask a question along the lines of “do you live alone?”

It only seems to happen on Hinge. It’s not happened on the other apps.

And you know what bugs me more than the creepy scam man? The poor English! πŸ˜‚πŸ™„

One Night Stand

I am planning, actually planning, my first ONS.

Of course I’ve had many, as you know. But I’ve never been intentional about it. And most of the ones I’ve had, I end up feeling like crap when they don’t call the next day.

Because I expect too much out of the gate.

I realize I can’t keep functioning the way I have been. I get attached too easily and look for connection where there is none. So I made, what I consider, a logical decision. Stop looking for Mr. Right and find Mr. Right Now (with a little help from KDaddys comments!).

I acknowledge I can’t find Mr Right Now with a man I’ve already identified as a Mr Right. As much as I want to have sex with Mike again, I really would want more from him.

As I’ve been meeting/chatting (online) with men I find attractive, I realized I was eliminating any man who didn’t fit the long term potential. It occurred to me that if I just changed my thought pattern, maybe I could get where I needed to go in two different ways. To have sex, potentially great sex, with no strings attached AND still keep looking for my Mr Right without becoming a nun in the process.

As much as I hate to admit it, I attract hot, fit men (let me add, hot and shallow oftentimes). Men who wouldn’t have looked twice at heavy me. And men who are *most likely* going to get hugely turned off by my bodily imperfection. They see an nice wrapping with no clue what’s under the covers. It took a while to realize this but, I don’t have to give a shit about what they think because I’m not planning to stick around for seconds. It actually gives me a chance to be a bit more confident. I can consider this practice.

I decided to give it a try. Saw a random hot guy I knew would never be a potential Mr Right and matched with him. He’s flying in from CA for 2 nights and I meet him Wednesday night.

I sort of want to warn him about the wounds since this is such an issue for me. But I know it shouldn’t matter. I have to learn how to manage a mans reactions and potential questions about the wounds instead of completely avoiding my reality. Sometimes I wonder if the wounds would be less offensive if it wasn’t for all the excess skin around them.

I think I found a work around at the moment. A sort of garter belt without the hose.

As long as I can keep it on, you can’t see the wound. I don’t think a ONS would care if it’s on or off as long as they are getting fucked.

As strange as this sounds, I’m a little nervous and hope I don’t back out!

Down in the Dumps

This episode with my kids knocked me way, way down.

And I’m guessing it’s obvious to my friends, or I’ve gotten them scared to death, because they are checking, checking, checking on me a couple times a day.

I can’t knock it.

First, the physical. I feel like I want to cry, like really cry. Get it out. I can’t. I just can’t for some reason. My insides are still buzzy as if they are in high alert. I don’t like this consistent feeling as it signals to me I’m waiting for something bad to happen.

Next, the mental. I’m playing some sort of waiting game. I don’t even know what I’m waiting for but that’s how it feels. I feel like I’m looking for something that’s coming and I don’t know when or how. A couple weeks back, when this feeling started, it felt positive a like great things around the corner. It’s turned into something else, like dreaded anticipation.

I have forgiven my kids and myself for the argument. I made an appt with the therapist for the 4 of us and all of them are angry and rebellious about it. They have some said things that I attribute to their Dad, but I find myself questioning if I really am “that person.” One son said “get a boyfriend already and take the pressure off of us.” Another one said “you expect too much from us and you’re always disappointed”. My toughest guy told me that no one will ever love the way I love and that’s a direct quote from his Dad. I can’t figure out if they are sort of brainwashed or if this is how they see me through their “adult” eyes now. It’s really upsetting me.

I haven’t heard from Mike which admittedly unbalanced me, but I know there’s nothing I can do about it.

I’m upset my sisters mother doesn’t want me to have a plus one at the wedding AND the fact I don’t even have a plus one to ask. I feel like the next 3-4 months of family events that I am ALONE in capital letters.

This feeling of being alone is bothering me. I’ve said it many times but I just want a relationship of some sort already.

I do see, at least, how to help myself beware of my anxious attachment. I think it takes practice as I’ve still gotten little hurts along the way.

I don’t understand exactly how my mind works in terms of the attachment. Tom and Charles were pretty close to “getting it right from go” but my mind selected Mike above them in a way I’ve been able to disconnect from Tom and Charles easily, but less so from Mike. And before anyone says much, this is me in my head, I’m not acting on anything – there’s nothing to act on. In my opinion anyone who says “we’ve been on two dates” just drew a clear line in the sand that I’m not on his radar the way he might be in mine.

My friends think I have more on my plate than I am acknowledging and it’s slightly reminiscent of last summer. Kids, men and work all culminating into concerns at one time and layering on the anxiety. I truly don’t think I’m built for the same level of intensity I was able to put out before, I don’t feel that drive that makes me so strong. Not consistently.

I will write about work in a separate post but at the moment I can’t seem to pull myself up out of my depression.

Crap Travels Downward

The day passed as most do at my new role, uneventfully.

But not in my head. In my head my world seems to be be suffocating me. My body is anxious and disturbed.

On Mikes advice, I try to speak to the x. I knew this wasn’t the right advice for me but I want to try anything at this point to feel better.

What a waste of an hour. This man doesn’t even know his own child. I can’t deal with his stupidity. Even worse, he says he can’t take care of all 3 kids because he doesn’t have the room, he’s busy renovating his mothers basement and he has a life. This lit me right up. I’ve had those kids for 2+ years full time. I need a break and you better fucking figure it out for a few weeks. His answer: no, let them stay “home”. I was livid.

My answer to him was “not my problem you live in a 2 bedroom apartment for 5 years and don’t have space, that’s been your decision, for now you need to parent all 3 of your children together”.

I know I shouldn’t be. This is a man who only cares about himself, his mother and his own satisfaction. A mother who needs a break from a full time adult child has no choice but to care for her child or they are on the street because their father basically rejects his parental responsibility.

His answer: they are 20. Well, two of them will be twenty in a week, but our youngest is 16. Either way, we are responsible for them until they are out of college. He doesn’t see it that way. Nor does he care. He’s got a girlfriend and he’s got a sleepover on Thursday so my son has no where to sleep.

Their Dad is ok telling them to get lost that he has plans.

I am not ok with that. I am not that parent. He knows this so I am left with full time care of 3 kids while the father lives his life and I have a nervous breakdown.

I am so angry. I’m so angry that I made myself sick today. I had to call the therapist for an emergency appt on the phone – that’s how worried about myself I was. I could feel the gently wrapped threads unraveling at a very fast pace.

I took another hour to speak with her. She was genuinely concerned and worried, but had little to offer at the beginning than “you are in a very difficult, nearly impossible, situation”. Yes! I know that! But I’m calling you for answers and strategies!

Eventually we got there. I got a script together for my next steps. It’s not what I expected but it makes sense to me.

I really couldn’t function properly the rest of the day.

The sexting with Mike had me feeling regretful for some unknown reason and the behavior I had with my kids was just leaving me unsettled.

I did tell my group what’s going on with me. Closest friend took me out for drinks and listened. She’s single and in her 40s not much she can add in the way of parenting. But she was there for me when I needed her. Another friend thinks the boys deserve strong consequences (read punishment). When I asked her what she would do differently she couldn’t come up with anything different but insisted she would be tougher than me. This friend is the antithesis of me – never wants to be in another relationship as long as she lives, including parenting her children or being obligated as an adult child to her mother or sisters. She does it better than anyone I know but literally hates it. Again, she was there for me.

I hate that I feel like I need a male partner to support me. Is it because I didn’t get any male parenting while I was a child and haven’t ever seen my x parenting our children? I think there may be something in there. I need male validation and partnership because this has always been a void in my life.

That evening I made another mistake texting Mike while I was at the bar 2 solid glasses of wine in and starting the third on an empty stomach. It started funny and silly but then I made a comment that maybe he could be less distant and just more like the guy I met.

The response: you are really off base. I’ve been nothing but nice to you. We’ve been out twice. I’m sorry you had a bad day and a shitty x

Nothing like being put in your place.

I reread my text and I don’t know how he went from A to Z but he did. I apologized that he misinterpreted my request for him to just be flirty while I was having a bad night.

No mixed signals in his text, eh? When you remind someone you’ve only “been out twice” it’s pretty clear that’s all it was and all it will be. I knew that. Of course I did. I was the idiot who crossed a line because I should never have text him today AT ALL.

He would have come back when he was ready for more sex and not before. But my anxiety got the better of me. I was needy and went to the wrong person for comfort. I knew he wouldn’t or couldn’t give me what I needed but, yet, I still went.

After all – no one, not one person, could help me today. I wanted to go numb. I wanted to sit in a corner and rock and cry. That might have been better than trying to be strong. Maybe I should have taken the time to let it all out. I know that only I can help myself. If I had taken the time to walk through today’s scenarios calmly in my head I would never have made the call to the x or to Mike. I can only help myself. I know this and continue to fight it.

Now I am on a bus home, sitting next to a man who (if he bumps into me once more) I might punch. Dreading the fact that I need to have a conversation with two of my kids when I get home. It can’t wait.

The other kid is with his Dad but I don’t know what he will do Thursday and Friday if his dad kicks him out.

Is getting upset over the x and some dumb text to Mike the end of the world? No. However – I’m always concerned about losing control now. It was the same for a long while with the exercise, I was so afraid to miss even one day I exercised myself into oblivion. It was very, very hard to adjust to less exercise and not crucify myself when I missed a day for good reason. This little derailment is the same. I lost some control, I knew it what happening, I took mostly the right steps to correct it and I will get myself back on track (I think).

I’m obsessing at the moment and I think that’s pretty standard process for me. My mind has to flip everything over and beat it blue before I let go. I get into my head and spin myself into an endless loop that I have quite a bit of trouble breaking. I analyze over and over to see if different actions would have different results. It’s like replaying a horrible highlight reel.

I read an article that helped with post conflict redirection through mantra, and while this helps, I need to find one while I’m in the conflict (or on the brink of making poor decision or exhibit bad behavior)

I know I cannot Define myself by what happened. It’s a bump in the road and I will inch forward and recover. I’m writing as the outlet to help stop the rumination.

I need to reinforce to myself that I am valuable. I am worthy. I am god enough, strong enough, and smart enough. I need to establish a mantra I can repeat when feeling dating or kid anxiety. Mantras cut through the noise in my head and create peace and space. I’ve learned this from almost daily meditation but I need a short and sweet one I can put in my pocket and put on repeat.

I’m just struggling with this pit in my stomach I can’t seem to move past. Then I worry the pit is there for a reason I haven’t acknowledge and that scares me. My intuition is so sensitive and not often wrong. I’m not trying to ignore it I just don’t know what it’s telling me right now.

At the moment I am trying to repeat:

Whatever is meant to be, will be.

There is a time and place for everything.

This too shall pass.

I am still healing, learning and growing.

Everything happens for a reason, even if don’t understand that reason today.

The only thing under my control is me. Deep breaths. Chin up. One foot in front of the other.