Drop in the Ocean

I think I’m dating wrong.  I have been in the dating sea for years, a good decade or so, and have yet to find the elusive ship of relations.  (FYI, this post might be full of bad nautical puns – you’ve been warned) I have just been floating along on my life raft of loneliness, sometimes getting nibbles of whatever I can get my hands on to give me sustenance for a little while longer so I don’t have to resort to throwing myself overboard and just calling it quits.  Now, I have been rescued before.  The S.S. Kevin saved me for a while, till there was a mutiny on the ship, and I was forced to walk the plank. Years before that I took a very short trip on the S.S. Dave #4, which sank shortly thereafter (as did the first 3 S.S. Daves; you’d think I would have learnt my lesson and bought a ticket with a different ship name).  But here I still am, floating on my life raft of loneliness, fast approaching my 31st year on this planet, and wondering if I should keep sailing to find that ship of mine, or if I should just come to terms with the fact that there may not actually be a ship out there for me, and that I might be better off to find land on my own, and forge a new path by myself.

All of this is just a super long winded way of saying that my love life has become rather stagnant lately.  Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been chatting with a handful of prospects, and a couple of them have been better than others, but nothing worth really writing about lately.  I met one guy that I liked a little over a month ago but he didn’t feel the same way about me, so that was close to something.  But, as it always is with me, it went nowhere.  There is a new guy I have been hanging out with this past week who I like (the one I’ve tweeted about for the 2 of you who read this and follow me on Twitter) but I’m not really sure if I actually like him.  He’s a great guy, we have a ton in common, but I don’t feel excited or nervous to see him.  I feel like I’m just going through the motions of dating.  Is there actually such a thing as having a spark with someone? I know I’ve had it with guys in the past, but was I just reacting to something else?  Or is the fact that I don’t feel the “spark” or whatever a sign that I’m not really into him, so I probably shouldn’t lead him on?

I think part of the problem with me is that I can’t seem to shake all these other guys, mostly ones from my past, which keeps coming back into my life.  These guys pop out of nowhere, like a popup book from hell just to fuck with my brain and prevent me from making rational, sane decisions.

The first in a 4 part gong show: Erik.  Of course Erik rears his head in a time like this.  I think I mentioned a post or two ago that he was back in the picture, texting and snap chatting me on occasion.  We had even had that random dinner date when I was still seeing Max.  But Erik always has and always will come and go in and out of my life as he pleases.  I know this.  And I let him, against my better judgement.  But I have to admit that I like the attention.  I like hanging out with him once in awhile, because we honestly do have fun together.  And he is good for a quick (albeit not great quality) lay once in awhile too.  So that’s the purpose of Erik.  To use me as much as I use him.

The second part in this gong show is Shamus.  Remember him?  I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t; he disappeared out of my life shortly after I moved from Riverview to Lakeview.  I’ve heard from him maybe three times since I moved and for a moment that first year I was here, I thought maybe we’d get together to hook up, but it never happened.  But all of a sudden, out of the blue about 2 weeks ago or so, I started hearing from him again.  Since then every few days he texts me.  The conversations never last long, but I find it both weird and awesome that he’s contacting me again.  Out of all the guys I dated back in Riverview, he was that one guy that I regretted not sleeping with when I had the chance.  There was so much potential there.  He would be the perfect Random Hook-Up Guy if he lived here.  Oh well.

The third part in the gong show is Married Twatwaffle, previously known as Soccer Boy.  This is a story and a half really, but I will try to make it as short and sweet as possible.  We met, hooked up a couple times, it went nowhere, we moved on.  I met Kevin, and during that time, Soccer Boy got married and got his wife pregnant.  But, that didn’t stop SB from messaging me on Facebook messenger periodically, trying to flirt with me.  Each time I heard from him, I had to tell him that flirting with me was not ok, because I had a boyfriend that I loved, and he was fricken married.  After that I would go another 6 – 10 months without hearing from him.  So it’s no surprise that after Kevin and I broke up, that I started to hear from him again.  At first his messages were friendly (which is why I gave him my cell number so we didn’t have to Facebook message) but then, they continued to get more and more inappropriate. So this is the conversation I eventually had to have with him.

   

  

 

 So needless to say after all that that he is a total dick bag.  I mean really, what does he think would happen if he and his wife split up and I started dating him? Does he think that I’d ever trust him when I know full well how he treated his WIFE?  Fuck that.  I know better.  And I was never interested in him enough even 3 years ago to overlook that glaring evidence of sheer douchebaggery.

The fourth and final part is Scooter.  He and I never did end up meeting, because not long after we started talking I met Kevin, and the rest as they say is history, but we have kept fairly decent contact since.  We followed each other on Twitter, in the meantime, but there was no actual contact during the Kevin of it all.  After Kevin though, our tweets back and forth became fairly regular, and eventually turned into DM chatting which has now evolved into the Snapchat game.  But we still haven’t met.  Partly because I don’t actually think he’s interested in me like that, and also because I’m too much of a chicken shit to actually tell him, “Hey, it’s been 2 fucking years.  It’s time we meet and figure this out one way or another.”  So for now I will just do the snap chat thing and hope that one day one of the two of us grows the balls to suggest meeting.

It looks like I am forever doomed to be floating on the life raft loneliness.  Because if the links to those posts have taught any of us anything, it’s that I haven’t learnt a fucking thing in the last 3 years.

Olivia

 

 

Welcome to the Meat Market

Have you ever felt a bit like a pizza?  Like someone ordered you up, in a certain way, in order to fill one purpose and one purpose only: to satiate a hunger?  If not then you probably are not dating. Lucky you.

Online dating is a bit like ordering a pizza online.  Sure, there are lots of different sites to go to find that pizza you are wanting, and you can try going through the list of qualities you look for in a pizza, and pick out exactly what you want, but you can never be certain that the pizza that knocks on your door will be the one you want to spend your life with.  Or something like that.  Now I’m hungry, and not quite sure what I was getting at here.

Oh yeah, dating.  That’s it.  Lately, I have been the one who has been ordered up it seems by people I would least expect.  I am the pizza.  The problem with being the pizza, is that I can’t control who wants to order me, and what their reasons are for it.  I’m going to get off the pizza thing, because it’s starting to get weird, but what I’m trying to say is that lately, dudes from my past have been coming around, only wanting me to fill their hunger for sex, not their hunger to have a partner for the rest of their lives, and I’m wondering why the fuck that is.

Kevin, who I talked a bit about last week, is one of them.  I can never tell if he just misses me as a person, or as his partner, or just misses having a girlfriend in general, or if he misses me because he is horny, and I’m no longer there to satisfy that need for him anymore.  If I had to guess, I’d say it’s the latter, just because when he contacts me, he doesn’t tell me about how he misses me as a person.  Ever.  He tells me how he misses having someone in the house, or someone to spend time with all the time, and of course, he misses the sex.  But he has never said that he misses my laugh, or that he misses the conversations we had, that he misses my sense of humor, or the person I was when I was with him.  But he misses having sex with me.  That seems to be the only thing he misses about me. Or at least, it’s the only thing he misses about me that he has verbalized the most frequently anyways.

This past week I got another blast from the past in a big way. Friend Zone, who after a bit of thought I have decided to rename him Marty, because over the last few weeks I have grown increasingly frustrated with the concept of the dreaded friend zone, and the negative connotations it has against women, but that topic could (and probably will) be its own post down the road. Anyways, Marty for those who don’t remember was a guy I had met online almost 4 years ago when I still lived in Riverview, we went out a couple of times, and while he was an amazing guy, despite my best efforts to force myself to like him, I did not.  The shitty thing was that he really liked me, so I inevitably had to hurt him by placing him as gently as I could into the friend zone.  I also made the horrendous mistake of drunkenly sleeping with him on one of my last nights before moving to Lakeview.  Since I moved here we have seen each other a couple of times shortly after I moved, but I haven’t heard from him since before I met Kevin. Of course now that Kevin is out of the picture, all these guys are coming back out of the woodworks for me.

So I heard from Marty a couple of weeks ago, just to chat, and see how things were going.  It was all very normal, it was all very civil, and most importantly, it was all G rated.  Then I heard from him again this past weekend.  And it quickly turned from just regular chatting, to him talking about wanting to have sex with me real quick.  This is how the conversation went:

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I felt like I was trying my best to not encourage him, while still remaining civil.

 

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Trying even harder to let him know I wasn’t interested in talking about this, without being a bitch.

 

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But then, he said that he wanted me to know I’m still desired.  And a part of me wanted to snap.  I mean, yes, thanks.  But I know I am desired.  I know that guys want to fuck me; I know that guys want to date me.  I’m not alone because nobody wants me; I am currently alone because the right person isn’t here to want me yet.  Since I broke up with Kevin there have been a couple guys that I could have dated just for the sake of not being single anymore.  But I have never been, nor will I ever be that kind of girl.  So I sent this message, and left that be that.

I don’t know guys, I’m not sure what else to do.  I don’t know how long I can do this for.  There isn’t even much more to say really.  I’m just so discouraged by everything.  And the worst part is, I don’t even have pizza here right now to cheer me up.

Olivia

Another One Bites the Dust

“Knowing my luck in this department, I will be all kinds of alone again by Valentine’s Day.”

 

I am such a wise woman.  Or maybe I’m a psychic and I don’t even know it.  Or maybe I’m a pessimistic asshole who will always give herself depressing self-fulfilling prophecies.  Or maybe, just maybe, I know myself and the state of my dating life too well.

In any case, the truth of the matter is that Max and I are done.  We didn’t really have much to begin with, but he served a purpose.  At the very least he served as a good distraction, a reason to get dolled up, my ass off the couch, and out the door.  At the very most he was a reminder to me that Kevin is not the only guy out there who will ever be interested in me.  At the heart of it, Max was exactly what I needed him to be in the moment: a rebound.

Of course, that didn’t save me from being hurt just a little bit when a couple of weeks ago he had “the talk” with me.  He finally brought it up, which in a lot of ways was a relief, although I knew immediately that I was ultimately not going to be so thrilled with the outcome of the discussion.  He told me that he did really like me, that I was really awesome, and that he really liked how calm and non-crazy I seemed to be about everything (proof that he never read this blog).  He said he thinks I am a super cool girl, and that we have amazing chemistry, both sexually and otherwise.  However, with all the awesome that he thinks I am (which I am fucking awesome) he said that he doesn’t often think about me when we aren’t together, that he isn’t ever dying to see me, and at the end of the day, he doesn’t think that we should be in a relationship together (womp, womp).  So, there in his house, we sat on his couch, and agreed that for now we keep things as is.  Status quo and whatnot.  Which in the moment, there on his couch, I was fine with.

After all, I still was messed up over Kevin, I didn’t know what the fuck was going on with Erik, and I was still talking to a few other guys online.  Was I really in the position to get back into a relationship with someone?  No.  I didn’t think so.  So I did what any girl in my position would do.  I agreed to continue with this same dating scenario, had great sex with him, then went on my merry way.

But when I left his house, I felt different.  I didn’t have the euphoria that I usually felt when leaving his place after one of our dates.  I felt, I don’t know, empty I guess.  I felt like while he said he wanted nothing to change, I felt as if everything had.  He had essentially just friends with benefits zoned me.  Another guy that I liked had told me to my face that he didn’t like me enough to be my boyfriend.  I think I would have cried in the moment had I really realized what had happened.  In the moment I think my brain was instinctively protecting my already broken heart, kindly shutting off that part of my brain that would register what was actually happening.

After that I tried to be ok with the status quo.  But after that night, I barely heard from Max, and within a week, I hadn’t heard from him at all.  This radio silence meant one of three things: 1) He was dead.  2) He was in a coma.  Or the most likely one, 3) Having “the talk” and telling me that he liked me but doesn’t want to be my boyfriend and then ghosting the fuck out on me was his way of letting me down as gently as he could, while trying not to come off as an asshole.

Guys, let me tell you something: IT’S OKAY TO LOOK LIKE AN ASSHOLE FROM TIME TO TIME.  You fuckers telling us some bullshit about how you still want to spend time with us and then ghosting out on us doesn’t make you any less of an asshole. In fact, we think you are even bigger assholes, and we also think you are fucking cowards for not telling us the truth.   If Max would have just told me that he didn’t want to hang out anymore, would that have sucked? Yes.  But would I at least respect him a little more for telling me the truth, not leaving me wonder what the fuck happened, because he decided to have a pair of fucking balls? Absolutely.

So, I did the only thing I could.  I sent him a simple text saying that I have a feeling he isn’t interested anymore, so I’m giving him his space.  I told him that if he ever wanted to see me or talk to me again, that he knew where to find me, and I told him to take care.  That was a week ago, and I haven’t heard a single peep since.  Oh well.  C’est la vie I guess.  I wasn’t expecting him to be the one, I just liked him.  But looking back he served his purpose.  He helped me see the light after the darkness with Kevin, and for that I will always be thankful.

I was not however thankful for the absolute fuck show that last Wednesday turned into.  After I sent that message to Max, I got a text from Kevin.  Kevin it seems has a delightful knack of contacting me when I least expect it, and knocking me on my fucking ass.  By this time it was already 9pm, and to be honest, I had been an emotional basket case the whole day, because of the stuff with Max.  So when Kevin messaged me, at first just to chat, but then soon turned into him telling me he misses me, and wanted to see me, I was past the point of basket case.  At that point I was fucked right up.  Against my better judgment, I agreed to see him.  He came to pick me up and we went for a drive to talk.  This talk ended up just making me more confused.  Kevin cares for me, and some days he wants me back, other days he thinks that us being apart is the right thing.  And here I am in the middle of it all, not knowing what the fuck to think, how to feel, what to do. It’s been a week since that happened, and I still don’t know.

All I know is that I have to keep going.  I have to keep living any way I can, I have to keep dating, I have to keep kissing all these fucking frogs, hoping to find my prince.

I just wish it wasn’t such an incredible fuck show to find him.

Olivia

Three Of A Kind

Men are a bit like a deck of cards.  You have your number cards, the 2’s through 10’s, the ones who you usually rely on to add up to something you need, even if they aren’t the best cards in the deck, you know they serve a purpose depending what game you play.  Then you have the Jack, the one who is so close to perfect, but you just can’t figure out how exactly to use him.  After that comes the King.  He’s arguably the best one.  He’s the one that in the game of life usually equals a winning hand.  Together with the queen (you are the queen of course) there is no game you can lose, especially if you are working together.  Sure, there is the Ace, which sometimes will trump the king, but that guy is so fickle, he’s perfect, almost too perfect, and you can never tell whether he’s going to be better than the king you have in your hand, or if he’s going to resort to being the lowest of them all.  And we can’t forget about the wild card – the Joker – who always seems to show up when you least expect him to, just to throw a wrench into things. Sometimes his presence is exciting, and you are so happy to have pulled that guy from the deck.  Other times, seeing him is just a stark reminder that you lose.

Now, I don’t know much about cards (in case you couldn’t tell from that previous paragraph) and I couldn’t win a poker game to save my life, due to the fact that I suck at card games and have no poker face.  But I do know a game I’m losing when I see one.

Right now I have a hand full of cards that I have no idea how to use to win the game.  I can’t tell the kings from the jacks, the 6’s from the 9’s, but I do have a joker in there, although I have absolutely no idea how he fits into this hand anymore.  In essence, this is just a longwinded way of tell you guys that I am fucked.

Since I don’t know exactly where to start, I guess I will just start with that Joker I’ve got.  A joker by the name of Erik.  Erik has always been the wildcard.  For as long as I’ve known him (which believe it or not has been a whopping ten motherfucking years already!) he’s been ridiculously unpredictable.  I never know when I’m going to hear from him, or when he’s going to pop out of nowhere. His presence always takes me by surprise.  With the exception of after a break up.  He’s fairly consistent with that.  When I broke up with Dave #4 a few years back, I started to hear from him regularly, and that break up directly resulted in me and Erik hooking up and becoming the epic FWB pair that has become this blog’s bread and butter.  So I was not surprised even the slightest when within two weeks of breaking up with Kevin, I started getting texts and Twitter DM’s from Erik, seeing how I was doing.  Over the last 4 months I consistently hear from Erik in one way, shape or form.  Including on New Year’s Eve, when he not-so-subtly brought up the idea of some long overdue benefits.  Since then, the random texts I get from him take a turn that way more often than not.  A couple of weeks ago, he texted me and things took that turn quicker than before.  Not only did they take a turn faster, but they also ended with something we hadn’t made in well over 2 years – plans to meet up.

I made these plans, but fully expected for the date to come and go without anything happening.  I have known Erik long enough to know that he has zero follow through, so I was expecting him to either forget that we had made plans, or to have had some else come up, or both.  So I was pretty surprised when I texted him the day before we were supposed to meet up, and he had not only remembered, but was going to follow through with the plans we had made the week before.  So we made plans to go to one of the most overpriced restaurants in the city (his idea, not mine, as I am poor as fuck, and ended up regretting adding the 10 dollar grilled chicken onto my 12 dollar Caesar salad) Before I got there, I wasn’t sure what was really going to happen.  From our texts a few weeks ago, I had the feeling that there was a chance that he was going to invite me back to his place, where all hell could break loose.  And I honestly wasn’t sure whether I wanted to do that or not.  The one part of my brain was screaming at me that nothing should happen, because Erik is so not to be trusted in that department, and hello! aren’t you dating Max?  But the other part of my brain was telling me that I am in fact a free woman until Max and I choose otherwise (although is there a certain point when you are dating someone when you are safe to assume that you probably shouldn’t be sleeping with other people, or is everything fair game until it is verbally agreed upon that you are monogamous?) and seeing as though I am still single, I shouldn’t feel guilty for hooking up with someone else.

At the end of it, it was all a moot point anyways, because as I was texting Erik to let him know that I was on my way to meet him, he accidently sent me a text that was meant for someone else, making plans with that someone later that night, the time of which depending on how long we were out for supper together.  Ah, classic Erik.  It’s nice to know that some things never change.  So I met up with him, we ate overpriced, overrated food; we chatted, had a handful of awkward silences, split the bill, and went our separate ways.  The night almost took a turn when we were saying goodbye, as we went in for a hug, he seemed like he was possibly going to kiss me, but I didn’t realize this in the moment, so I continued to go in for a hug as his kiss awkwardly hit my cheek.  We agreed to keep in touch, and that was that.  Or so I thought.

The next night, I had plans with Max.  It was the first time in almost three weeks that I had been able to make plans with him, as he was gone on a trip for a week, but I was starting to lose hope in the fact that he was still interested.  I have been trying not to text too much, to seem too eager, which I’m now wondering if it’s coming off as if I’m not interested anymore.  But he messaged me first, and wanted to make plans so I was happy about this.  We decided to go out for some pizza.  We decided to go to a place in town that has a good reputation for good pizza that neither of us had been to before.  Seemed like a great idea.  When I got to Max’s, I realized three things.  A) That I had actually missed him a little bit when he was gone B) that I was incredibly glad that nothing happened between Erik and I and C) that both of these things combined mean that I like this guy – a lot.

We chatted the whole way to the restaurant; everything was so easy that way with him.  We walked into this restaurant that was new to both us, and as we entered the hostess area, someone in the dining area caught my eye – Erik.  Yup.  Motherfucking Erik.  Now, this town is small by most accounts, but it is big enough that I have never, NEVER ran into anyone I’ve dated or slept with like this.  Not once. So not only is he there, but the hostess is seating Max and I at a table right next to him.  Luckily I saw him before he saw me, so I did some of my best acting, in pretending to be checking out the restaurant instead of catching his attention.  As I walked past his table to get to my seat, I heard him say my name.  I then proceeded to act surprised to see him.  I said a quick hello, and then sat down next to Max (I’m preparing my Oscar acceptance speech right now in my head for this performance).  Thankfully Erik didn’t stay much longer, him and the group he was with left about 20 minutes later, but in that 20 minutes I had to force myself to keep all my attention on Max and Max only.  Not only because I didn’t want to be rude to Max, but also because I wanted Erik to see that I’ve got other prospects.  I don’t want him to think that he is the only guy I have in my life.  He doesn’t need that kind of power.  Especially since he is always the one to go out of his way to contact me and be in my life, not the other way around, so perhaps I have a stronger hold on him than he either realizes or cares to admit.

Anyways, Max and I had a lovely evening together, the pizza lived up to its excellent reputation (and it was affordable to boot, for the same price of that Caesar salad the night before, I got three meals worth of pizza) and the conversation never faltered.  I like him. I really like him. And while I’m not sure whether or not Max is the king to my queen, another joker, or just another number in my hand, I’m enjoying playing the game right now anyway.

Well, that’s all for this week.  I have more to write about, but unless this piece is 6000 words long, I don’t have the time for it today.  Plus, I like making you bitches feel the need to come back next week!

 

Olivia

 

Kicking My Heels

Holy balls, it’s 2016.  I hope you all had a lovely holiday season. My Christmas was good.  I ate way too much as one does, I had a respectable, some would say almost modest amount of wine and spent some very nice time with my family.  All in all, it was a fantastic holiday.  I hit a minor bout of holiday depression in the early evening on the 25th, as family pictures were being taken and it dawned on me how alone I was. Seeing my step-siblings get nice family pictures with their wives/husbands and their kids, while I just got my “family” picture sitting by myself, nearly pushed me over the edge. I was trying my hardest to smile instead of burst into tears. That was far from how I wanted that day to go, but you know, oh well I guess.  I had a similar experience about a week later on New Year’s Eve as the clock hit midnight, wiping away all the good and bad of 2015, I looked around the room I was in, only to see 3 other couples happy, hugging and kissing their way into 2016.  I on the other hand, swigged my wine back, and hoped like hell that this year would be better.  Almost 2 weeks into the year and I am now back to reality, back in my protective single girl bubble, back to work, and back to my fairly uneventful life.

I say fairly uneventful, because as always, the one area of my life that is far from boring is the wonderful world of dating.  For better or for worse, a single girl’s best friend can sometimes be the craziness and unpredictability of what dating will throw your way.  Between the messages from guys who neither read your online dating profile nor care to, and the guys who CANNOT take the motherfucking hint (ie: I am not responding to your initial message of “Hi” because from what I see on your profile we aren’t right for each other as you say you are looking for a hook-up only, which I am so very not into at the moment, so yes please spend the next 6 weeks messaging me without any response, and then call me the stuck up slut for not contacting you. That’ll change my mind.) to the guys that don’t seem to have the most basic concept of the English language (guys whose first and only language IS English, by the way) to the always classy guys who start a conversation by asking if I want to bang, or by complimenting my tits. Don’t get me wrong, I take that as a compliment none the less because my tits are wonderful, but call me old fashioned when I think that that compliment should be reserved for after I start dating someone, not several nopes before.  Never mind the horror that is the guy who you actually know, have met before in a completely non-dating way who messages you on the dating site with an “Oh hey, remember me?” Internet dating is an interesting thing my friends.

But the internet is not the only place where things get a little hazy.  In fact, I still have yet to meet anybody new since Max and the 3 not-so-muches from my last post.  Max and I are still seeing each other, quite regularly actually, and so far things are going good.  Very good.  So good in fact that I am terrified to have the “what are we to each other?” talk that I know we should probably have sooner than later.  But I figure the longer I put it off, the longer Max and I can stay in this awesome little place, and I can continue to be happy for a little while, in case Max doesn’t feel the same way about me. I’ve been down that unrequited love thing once already in the last few months, I don’t think I could handle another situation like that right now.  At a certain point, you start to take it incredibly personally. So for once I’m more than okay being in this casual dating/relationship limbo.

Speaking of unrequited love, the good news here is that each day I think of Kevin less and less.  Once in awhile I catch myself wondering about him, or thinking about our relationship.  I sometimes play pieces (both the good and the bad) of our relationship over and over in my mind, but even that is becoming less frequent.  When I first met Max, I thought my baggage from Kevin was going to trickle into my new dating life. And at first, it did.  I would compare the two, and think about how things would be different if I was on that date with Kevin instead of Max.  During those first 2 or 3 dates I felt incredibly guilty, because even though we had broken up months before, I still felt like I was being unfaithful to Kevin somehow.  Now it’s the opposite.  When I saw Kevin a couple days before Christmas to pick up some of my mail that got sent to his house, I thought about Max.  I wondered how he would feel if he knew that I was over at my ex-boyfriend’s house.  I felt incredibly guilty, because even though Max and I have never discussed being exclusive, and even though Kevin and I did absolutely nothing but talk, I felt like I was being unfaithful to him.  I usually hate feeling guilty, but in this case I am glad that I did.  I think it’s a definite step in the right direction.

A step in the wrong direction however presented itself over the last couple of weeks.  A wrong direction by the name of Erik.  Now, Erik as my most loyal of readers will remember, was my Friends With Benefits (or FWB) from about 3 years ago, who I hooked up with for about a year, fell for him a little bit (or a lot, whatever), moved cities theoretically to be with him, which of course blew up in my face when he shot me down, and broke my heart.  Over the years we’ve still kept in touch, reconnecting once every few months on Twitter or Facebook, just to say hi, nothing more, nothing less.  Well low and behold, not more than 2 weeks after I had broken up with Kevin and had moved into my new place, guess who I heard from?  Yup, you guessed it, Erik!  He told me how sorry he was that Kevin and I broke up, and blah, blah, blah, he wants me to be happy, blah, blah, blah, and now I hear from him fairly regularly. Including on New Year’s Eve, when a seemingly innocent wishing of a Happy New Years, turned into a very flirtatious round of messaging that sorta ended with a proposition to one day get together for some long overdue benefits.

Don’t fucking judge me!!  I know!!  I should never have let it get to that point.  I know better!  But I’m going to go ahead and blame holiday depression on this one!  I couldn’t even help myself. It felt like such familiar territory.  This is exactly what happened the last time I went through a break up.  I fell down Erik’s rabbit hole (that sounds way worse than it actually is) and lost myself in the comforting embrace of having a really good FWB. So sue me if doing that again after this break up would make me feel better. Luckily, I knew in the moment that what I was doing (or thinking of doing rather) was wrong, so I reached out to Annie, who I knew would kick my ass up and down the block if I went down that path again.  Thank fuck she answered her phone and told me exactly what I needed to hear: don’t. you. fucking. dare.  So I didn’t.  And I can say with 95% certainty that I won’t.  While I know it would probably be fun, and hot, and seeing as though I am still technically single, and completely at liberty to do what (and who) I want, it would be something that I know I would regret forever, especially since it would definitely change things between me and Max one way or another.  And right now, that is a mistake that I simply don’t want to make.

But if things with Max and me go down the shitter, don’t be surprised if there is an FWB post in my future.

Ok…..now you can judge me.  Cause I judge me too.

Hasta la later blueberries!

Olivia

What Wheel Am I Now?

There are very few times when someone else’s break-up will actually affect me. Rarely do I hear of people in my life going their separate ways and think anything other than “Oh, that’s too bad.” I think I am far more affected by the fictional relationships on my favorite TV shows. I still cry when Ross and Rachel go “on a break”, I lost my shit when *spoiler alert* Barney and Robin got divorced on How I Met Your Mother, I still get really excited whenever Luke and Lorelai got back together in Gilmore Girls, because I think the world was always a better place when they were together and I truly believe that Walt and Jesse always cooked the best when they cooked together. I am severely emotionally involved in the lives of fictional people. But when it comes to the people in my real life? All I can usually give is an “Oh, that’s too bad.”

I’m guessing this may have something to do with my parents’ divorce so many years ago. They split when I was 10, long before I started to date, and long before I had any other relationship role models to show me that some love does last forever. Sure, I had my grandparents and uncles and aunts who had been together forever, but when your own parents can’t make it work, it’s hard to see past that, and believe that anybody else out there will go the distance too.

Even with some of closest my friends, it was hard to care more about their relationships ending. Sure, I cried with them, and tried my best to be there for them whenever they needed me. I listened while they told me what happened, and would always try to say something to them that would either cheer them up, or get through to them that they would get through this, and that they were better off without whoever it was they were with. I cared about them and their sadness, but cared little about the actual break-up. I have never lost sleep over someone else’s love ending.

Until now. I haven’t mentioned this yet, because frankly it hasn’t been my place to mention it, but over the summer, Annie and Trey split up. Now, I will spare all the juicy details, because really, it is nobody’s business. But it was an ugly break-up. One of the worst I’ve ever seen, and far surpassing the train wreck that was my parents. And yes, I know that in most break-ups it is never 100% one person’s fault. But, in this case, this one leans heavily, if not completely on Trey’s shoulders. To put it plainly: he fucked up. Big time.

With a break-up this big, especially with a couple as unique as Annie and Trey, there was bound to be a lot of fallout and collateral damage. This is especially true when it comes to their friends. Luckily for Annie (the one and only place where Annie has been lucky in this whole awful, ugly situation by the way) because of the circumstances of the break-up, most of their shared friends have stuck by Annie, myself included.

I don’t usually pick sides. I try not to, because usually I don’t think that’s fair. I don’t like losing friends, so I’d rather be the middle man, than lose out completely. Even in this situation it is hard to remind myself why I’m upset with Trey. I mean, he was a good friend to me. He shared my same weird sense of humor, and we could laugh about literally the dumbest things. He also was a good listener, and was always up for a good chat. He was one of my only friends who actually went out of his/her way to see how things were going in my life. I loved being friends with him. I had been best friends with him and Annie for almost two decades. The three of us were roommates through college, we moved to Riverview together. Trey and I even worked together at McDonalds with a few of our other friends for a little while in high school. There aren’t too many memories from the last two decades that don’t involve Trey and Annie in some way. So it has been really hard to let that go.

But I am mad at him. Not just for what he did to Annie, but for the ripple effect that came from what he did. He ruined a lot of Annie’s world. His deliberate actions forced her to change most parts of her life she had established, like her work, and her living arrangements. This didn’t just mean she had to move to another house, it meant she had to move from Lakeview back home to Valley View, which is an hour away from here. She also got thrown back into the dating world, which we all know is a sad state of affairs no matter what town you’re living in, and she also has to put her plans of having a family (something Annie and Trey both wanted, and were in the process of getting started on) on hold, indefinitely.

Selfishly I am angry that he took away my time of being coupled up at the same time as at least one set of friends in this city. In our group of friends from high school, I have always been the token single chick. During high school we were all mostly single and just wanting to party, which is when most of us became friends to begin with, but as soon as the graduation tassels got placed to the side, and then subsequently tossed in the air, everyone seemed to be coupled up, except me. I hated those days. I was forever the third wheel, hearing about everybody’s relationship and sex lives, while I was busy dating no one, and stuck with the virginity I couldn’t even give away if I wanted to.

It really wasn’t until Annie, Trey and I moved to Riverview that I started to make friends with other single people. That’s actually how Ayla and I met and became best friends. She was basically the Riverview me. She was in her mid-20’s, was forever single like I was, and was also a unicorn like I was, still having her virginity for the same reasons I did. When I found out those things about her, it was exactly like this:

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I was thrilled. Eventually she found a great guy of her own, who she is still with, almost 4 years later, and I eventually found Dave #4, who as you all know, didn’t last very long, which lead to a long string of almosts and not a chance in hells till I moved here to Lakeview.

When I started dating Kevin, it was great bringing him for coffees and meals with Annie and Trey so they could get to know him. It was the first time really ever where I could actually be a coupled person with that group of friends. But now that’s all changed. Once again I am the odd man out, but in a new and very foreign way to me, because now I am the only one in a relationship, and everyone else is living the single girl life I was living till a year ago.

But mostly I am mad because I had no choice but to lose one friend in this situation. No matter who I would have chosen to side with, my friendship with one would have been lost, and the friendship with the one I sided with would have been altered. I’m mad because he shouldn’t have done the things he did in the way that he did them, and I’m angry because I stood there, as a bridesmaid at his wedding, listening to him vow to never hurt Annie like he did. And I believed him. I believed that he meant what he said. I had faith in him, in them and in their relationship.

I know that had things turned out differently, I’d be helping him through this rough time he’s going through. Sure, he fucked up, but he needs a friend too, I just can’t be that friend right now.  I wish I could but I can’t.  All I can do is make sure Annie is ok, be there for her, and let her know that there is a light at the end of the tunnel.  And any other cheesy inspirational quotes I can throw at her.

Olivia

Breaking Bachelor

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Maybe I should stop watching all my TV shows in one night.  Maybe I should focus my time and energy on more important things, like family, friends and finding a boyfriend rather than watching two guys cook crystal meth, and one guy date 27 of the most genetically impossible women on the planet.

Maybe, NOBODY ASKED YOU PATRICE!

So what if I’ve been dating my TV for the better part of a year (or of a lifetime, whatever)? It’s been a great relationship. I mean, Walt and Jesse don’t care how much I weigh; they don’t care when my last relationship was, or if I’m seeing other characters on the side. They don’t demand sex when I’m not feeling it (although if it were up to me, Jesse and I would on each other 24/7) and if I need some space from them (which I rarely ever do), but if I do, I can say adios, and take a break from them.

Ok, I know that sounded incredibly pathetic.  I don’t really care. What else am I supposed to do? The dating scene has been dull lately. The good news is that my life is hopefully coming around.  Not on the dating scene, as far as that goes, I’m fairly doomed I would say. But luckily the shit show I have been dealing with at work has worked itself out a bit, as I got myself a new job that will hopefully be more money, less hours and far less stress. I’ve only got to tough it out for another week and a half and then I can hopefully get to a new chapter in my life that will help me get some of my positivity and happiness back. You know, or at least just the small amount of positivity and happiness I once possessed.

I am excited for my new job, but sad to leave my old job for one very surprising reason: Jason. Despite our history, and the lack of anything of substance happening there since September, I find myself having a hard time realizing that by not working here anymore, I give up the chance to see him every day. And we all know that work man candy is sometimes the only reason why I get out of bed in the mornings. It’s going to be weird not having him to talk to, and I will genuinely miss seeing him all the time.

However, my new job does give a bit of optimism in a couple of ways. The first being that it’s possible that Jason and I not working together means that there is more of a chance for something to actually happen with us. I doubt it, but the chance is there, and hey, isn’t that what optimism is really all about? The other thing I’m hopeful for is to meet new men at my new job. The beauty of my new job is that it’s in a high school. And no, I’m not planning on getting me some jail bait, and going all Mary Kay Letourneau on you all. I meant teachers. Hot, male, age appropriate, high school teachers that I can find and date. I don’t know if there is any of that at this school, but I will find out and report back.

If I’m lucky (and we all know I am not), perhaps my Juan Pablo will be waiting for me there.  Yeah, like I wasn’t going to bring back my reference of The Bachelor from earlier in the post.  As if you weren’t expecting it.

I wouldn’t watch The Bachelor on my own. It’s the biggest of guilty pleasures, and like Big Brother and most other “reality” TV (I’m looking at you, anything on TLC ever!) I only watch these shows because someone else watches it around me, and I become hooked. I like to call this the Roommate TV Trap. If you live with someone, there is a pretty damn good chance you have gotten hooked on a show they liked because you happened to watch one stinking episode with them.

Lucy got me hooked on to The Bachelor. Sure, I’ve seen episodes here and there of previous seasons, but this season I am just as excited to see what comes next as she is. I used to scoff at people who watched this show.  Don’t get me wrong, just because I enjoy watching it these days, doesn’t mean I don’t see reasons why the show is awful.  It’s all there right in front of you.  The unnecessary drama, the catfights, the dramatic music that scores the background during the ridiculous rose ceremony.  “Will you accept this rose?” The bachelors and bachelorettes always say, as I lean towards the television, patiently waiting for the one “contestant” to huffily grab the rose from him/her, and scream, “No DICKHEAD, I DO NOT ACCEPT YOUR MOTHERFUCKING ROSE!” and then storm off set, never to be heard from again.  One day.  It’ll happen.

But my biggest issue with this show, are the people who go on the show, and then get pissy when the Bachelor/Bachelorette goes on dates and makes out with other people.  Uh, guys?  That’s the whole damn point to the show.  The producers may say that it’s for two soul mates to find one another while the world watches them fall in love, but really, it’s to watch one dude or one chick mack on 25 other people, and all the drama that gets people like me to watch the train wreck every week.

The Bachelor is a bit like I find online dating to be.  You like a guy, who on any given day can be on a date with another woman, and you may know her, you may not, but you have no idea what he is doing with her, where they are, and if he will ultimately fall in love with her, and leave you alone, still searching for someone else to come along.  Basically, my point of this entire blog entry is to tell you that if push comes to shove, I will audition for the Canadian Bachelor.  Of course, I’d need to lose about 100lbs first, and possibly get plastic surgery on my face in order to look as beautiful as those women do, but whatever, I’ve already lived the Bachelorette life, so why not date a hotter guy than I could ever get in real life?  Seems like a sane and legitimate way to find a husband if you ask me!

So, yes, I realize that this post lacked any direction, and actual story, but what do you expect, when my love life lacks…well, life, at the moment? This is as good as I got.  I may or may not have an actual story for you next week, I might possibly be meeting a new guy this weekend (not Scooter, to hell with him) so if we do meet, I am hoping there is something to be written there.  And, I’m getting ready for my annual Pity Party Post, which will be happening on or around February 14th.  This year, I am taking the Valentine’s Forever Alone Day on the road, and may spend a handful of days in Riverview if I can afford it.  At least that way I won’t be completely alone when my only two friends here in Lakeview and Lucy ditch me to spend time with their significant others.  In Riverview I at least have friends to free load off of, ones who will take pity on my singleness, and spend some time with me anyways.  Gotta love the good old fashioned guilt trip.  And hey, it’s something for you to look forward to!

Till next week, (and yes, for those of you wondering, my Breaking Bad reference at the beginning was solely to have a legitimate excuse to have a picture of Aaron Paul in one of my posts)

Olivia