My year of online dating: guy number seven
Guy number seven gets his own blog not only because he was in my life the longest, but also because at one point we were actually *gasp* "officially dating." Of course, at the time I didn't know that. I wasn't thinking...hey, we're dating. I'm finally "dating!" I was just spending as many days as I possibly could with this man. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Let's start from the beginning...
Number 7:
I met this guy on Match.com. I used to do this adorable thing where I'd drink too much and then go online and shoot out 20 emails to guys just because. I don't normally message guys first because I get really angry when they don't message me back. I don't like being rejected.
But when mama's had a little too much wine, everything sounds like a good idea!
This night I felt like hitting up the hotties. I honestly copied and pasted the same message over and over. Something along the lines of "Hey, I like your profile, wanna meet up for a drink sometime?" I'm not exactly sure what it said...I'm sure it was cooler than that...but then again, I was drunk so who knows what I put ??
Well, this guy actually wrote me back. It was so long ago I don't remember what he said (and I've since deleted my profile so none of that shit is saved.) But we decided to meet up and exchanged numbers. Of course, he wasn't the only guy who wrote me back and I was on two other sites at the same time so I was writing to a lot of guys. This was during guys 3 - 6 so I was already pretty busy. But he was good looking...oh yes, co-worker-confirmed-good-looking.
Texting for weeks...
Like I said, I "met" him while I was smack dab in the middle of going on dates with these other guys so meeting up with him was hard to do. He would always text me as I was getting done working my second job so it would be late and I would be stinky and tired. I thought his messages were so weird too. They were all over the place and it seemed like they weren't connected at all so I thought he was getting me confused with other women in his phone.
I mean, if I'm too busy to meet up with him I figured he'd be busy as well. And whenever I would text him, he'd be off at a wedding or hanging out with his friends, or any other number of things.
Around the time when I was going to the Brewer game with guy number 5 (or was he 6? can't remember) guy number 7 told me he was going to the same game. Initially we had toyed with the idea of meeting up...but then I invited guy 5 (6?) to meet me there so those plans fell through. Later I found out that he had also brought a woman to that game...so us meeting that day would've been reeeal awkward.
His messages were just so random and on random days that it just didn't seem like we were ever going to meet--but he was cute so I kept texting him, because I put up with a lot more shit from guys I think are hot than I do from guys who are just so-so. But finally we figured it out. We found a day we were both free and we set the date for the date. It was a Thursday and I had taken the next Friday off because I had been called in to work at job #2 and didn't want to pull an 18 hour day. So it worked out, it was a weekday, but I didn't have a pumpkin time of 9pm!
The first date...
His profile suggested he was a professional so I suggested we meet for happy hour at Graze. It's a swanky restaurant on the square that has 2-4-1 glasses of wine until 6pm. I was coming straight from work and so was he. I was nervous as fuck because I felt the vibes with this one. I liked him on paper and was really hoping to like him in real life.
I got out of work earlier than him and planned to have at least one glass of wine down before he got there...calm the nerves and such. He texted me the entire time to let me know when he was expected to reach the bar. I wasn't worried, because the more time I had, the more wine I could drink, the less uptight I'd be. I hate getting there first--but this time I needed the joy juice!
We were constantly texting until the minute he arrived. I was able to get the first glass of wine down and was just about to get the second when this well dressed man approached me. I about died. YES! Every fiber in my body yelled when he went in for a hug. Yes, yes, yes! He's good looking, and well-dressed, and smelled great, and smiled when he saw me, and hot damn I hit the jackpot!
He scooted right up to me and instantly began talking. All about his day, his job, this promotion he was going for...on and on. I just sat there and nodded and threw in a word edgewise all the while unable to believe that this guy was actually on a date with me. Me. Me. Yes, me. Say what?! It was too good to be true. I waited for him to toss out a red flag or show some crazy, but it didn't come. No ex girlfriend/wife hang ups. No social awkwardness. Nothing.
And he was fully engaged in me the entire time...the few times I was able to talk anyway. He just stared in to my eyes and asked questions and gave me the best first date of my life in less than 30 minutes.
Over the course of the night I had two more glasses of wine and he drank a couple martinis. Safe to say my inhibitions did not exist after that third glass of wine. I was punch drunk and most likely real life drunk. I had to slow down. I didn't have to work the next day, but I had to drive. So I switched to water.
He confessed to me that he had asked his boss for the next day off when he heard I had taken off. When he told me that I decided then and there that this was going to be a good night.
All we had to eat was cheese and bread--neither one of us could agree on if we wanted a full meal or not so we just picked some cheeses, some spreads, and ordered a little platter. This would lead to me getting oh so very drunk before the night was over...
Hook. Line. Sinker.
At one point he left to go to the bathroom. While I was sitting there looking around and wondering when the restaurant had gotten so packed (I was so in to this guy I didn't even notice the place fill up) my phone buzzed. I had a text. I pulled it up and it said "You are so hot." My first thought was "did he just text me from the bathroom?" and then he sent a follow up message "Yes I just texted you from the bathroom." I laughed out loud. Hot, huh? I'm never hot. Cute, yes I've gotten cute. But never hot.
When he came back from the bathroom my heart fluttered. Yes, the shit that happens in the movies. I knew this was going to be it for me. Up until that point, we were sitting at a bar talking side to side, but then he turned me so that I was facing him and our legs were touching. And then he placed his hands on my knees and held me there and looked in to my eyes and continued the conversation. I don't even know what we talked about. It doesn't even matter.
By the time he asked me for a kiss I was so drunk on wine and drunk on this wonderful feeling he was giving me that I didn't even care that we were in the middle of a packed bar. I didn't even care that he was going out for a cigarette. I didn't have a care in the whole damn world at that moment. He left me with his credit card and said "pay the bill while I'm out" and I did what he asked. It was so natural. And I made him pay for my last two drinks because that's what you get when you leave me with your credit card and tell me to pay....
He came back and I couldn't even tell he had been smoking. He is the type of guy who worries about that and had already popped a mint and refreshed his cologne. I don't like smokers...but this guy...well this guy I'd make an exception for. Most definitely.
We left Graze and headed to the Old Fashioned. He asked what I wanted to do and I just stood there with nothing. So he asked if I had booze at my place and I shook my head no (for the record, that was the last time I would be found without at least one bottle of vodka at my place). He told me he lived on the east side and had drinks so we could go there.
Back to his place? Up until that point all my dates had ended with either a half hug or an awkward wave or a sprint to my car. While I have been known to go home with random strangers before (and I will NOT be judged for that), I decided that these dates needed to stay PG. Until guy number 7 that is...
The air between us was so electrically charged. It could have been the three glasses of wine that moved it along so quickly...but it was unmistakable. He couldn't keep his hands off of me, and frankly, I didn't want him to. So yes, back to his place sounded like a plan. Before I knew it, I was putting his address in to my phone's gps and getting in my car...
I made it to his place and parked. And I texted him I was there. He came out and grabbed me and hugged me and thanked me for coming over. It was wonderful.
His place...
Coincidentally I had yoga pants and a t-shirt in my trunk that I changed in to. Been working out and frankly, my ass looks hot in yoga pants. I knew it. And now he knew it. He also changed in to athletic shorts and a tshirt. The man looked good in his crisp button down and expensive pants...and he looked even better in a Hanes and shorts. Damn!
His roommate was home and I met him briefly...and his adorable yellow lab. But he knew when to make his exit, and he had to work early, so before long we were alone. He poured us a couple of very stiff drinks and then decided to give me the grand tour.
It was just an apartment so I wasn't sure where else to look, but he had all these things on his walls that he had collected when he traveled. Apparently this man had been around the world and he liked to buy things. He had pictures, and paintings, and artifacts, and even a couple swords. As he told me his stories I sucked down vodka like my life depended on it because I was, for the first time in a long time, nervous for what I knew was about to happen.
Every once in a while he'd break in his story and look down at me and just plant one on me. It was drunk, it was sloppy, and it was wonderful.
I know we talked but I honestly don't remember what about. For being such a small place, he sure had a lot of stuff! And I heard all about it. For once, I wasn't the one telling all the stories and I really enjoyed just being wanted by him and listening to him and being kissed by him. I didn't even care about anything else. He kept grabbing me and saying how great my ass was or how beautiful my eyes were or how great my smile was. And I ate it up. I have never, in my life, had a man gush about me over and over and over. Never once. And let me tell you ladies...if you haven't either--get on that right now! I danced around and soaked up the compliments.
When he finally shut up, turned off the lights in the kitchen, grabbed my hand, and walked to his room...I was not only drunker than I had been in a while...but I was the happiest person in the entire world at that moment.
The morning after...
I can never sleep well at a guy's place. I can never sleep well anywhere other than my own bed which means I'm always up first. I woke up a little confused. My head was on his chest and his arm was tight around me. Did I really sleep all night like that? And by "all night" I mean for the three or four hours I actually slept.
I didn't want to move to wake him up. My eyes focused in the light of day and I realized I hadn't seen any of his room the night before in the pitch black so I had a good look around from under the crook of his arm. I loved seeing all his really nice shirts and ties and pants hanging in his closet. Yesterday was not a fluke, this man had great taste!
At some point, nature took hold and I had to get up. I went in to the bathroom and turned on the light and looked at myself in the mirror expecting a horror show. But what I saw was the absolute opposite. I had an unmistakable glow about me. Let me tell you a little story about how just-fucked hair looks pretty fantastic. Usually I look like a shit show in the morning but seriously, you can't buy product to give your hair the volume you get rolling around in a bed all night! Haha...yeah...
I tried to go back to sleep but it was fitful. I just couldn't sleep so mostly I just laid there and watched him sleep and basked in the glow of it all.
The best part about waking up next to a man is when you get back in to bed, scoot up next to him, and wrap your arms around him...then he half wakes up and takes the rest of you in his arms. Yeah, I like that. I also like when they wake up and are ready to go again. Yeah, I like that too.
Let's get breakfast...
I have done my fair share of waking up next to a man...either one I barely know...or one I know too well. And it always ends the same. Well, we're up...guess whoever doesn't live here is leaving now. I mentally prepared to get my ass kicked out of his apartment as I was putting my clothes back on--same old, same old, I thought. But then something happened. He looked over at me and said "Let's go get some breakfast. Where do you want to go?"
Ahem. Cough. What? This was a first.
And jesus h was I starving! My dinner of cheese and vodka coupled with ten rounds in the ring were enough to starve anyone. He asked me if I wanted to sit and have a cup of coffee before we left. Um, beg your pardon? You want to have a nice morning with me now? Not just...now let's get some bacon! At this point it was painfully obvious that I'm not 22 anymore. The hangover started to kick in like no one's business and I needed food...stat. I declined the coffee and said, let's just have it at the restaurant.
He had to take his roommate's dog out so he puts on his shorts and asks me which sweat shirt he should wear. Seriously? He wants my opinion on his wardrobe? I chose the red. Seemed like the right color. So then he takes the dog and goes outside. I fixed myself up as best I could and waited. I sat at the counter and looked out the window at him and the dog below.
Did that really just happen? Did I really just go home with this hot man and have that wild night and now we're going to breakfast?
I wanted to pinch myself.
On our way to breakfast he asked me if I wanted to go back to his place after we ate and watch movies all day. Now wait just one minute. Hold the goddamn phone! Not only did he invite me over, then I spent the night, then we woke up and he asked me to breakfast, and now he wanted to hang out. I had just successfully beat the one-night-stand. This was officially not a wham, bam, thank you ma'am. I was in. Like, for real.
Buuuut, my stomach had other plans. I wanted nothing more than to lay and be lazy with him all day, but my hangover was reaching monumental proportions at this point. I said "let's just make it through breakfast first...I don't feel so good...ugh...."
We got to Perkins (my choice because I like their omelettes). I sat down and looked at him and looked around. Yes, this was me...me...with this hot man...after the best first date I've ever had. Yes old lady in the next booth--he's with me. I was able to savor the moment for about five minutes before my breathing turned heavy and I needed to excuse myself.
I went to the bathroom and immediately dropped to my knees. Oh mother of god, why now? Why today? Why can't I just not be hungover this one time???
I went back to the table and our food was there. He was digging in to his french toast. I looked at my plate of delicious food and immediately jumped up again and ran to the bathroom.
By the time I came back out my food was boxed and it was clearly time to go. I sat outside on the bench while he paid. I begged and pleaded to the universe to just let me have this one morning...but my 31 year old body wanted nothing to do with me. It was painfully obvious that my date had to be over. I wasn't going to last another minute. Wasn't even sure I'd make it home. I desperately needed a nap before I had to go in to work that night.
Goodbye for now...?
He drove me to my car and then parked and walked me to it. Then he grabbed me and hugged me and thanked me for the great night. He said he had a great time and that it was lot of fun, and I said the same. There was no kiss goodbye, thanks vomit mouth...so we hugged again.
I got in my car and drove home in a dream. A very hungover dream. He didn't say "let's do it again sometime" so I was desperately hoping that he felt the same way I did and would text soon. I only had to wait until I got home before he had sent the "did you make it home okay?" text. There it was again...proof that I had just avoided a one-nighter.
And hello again...
We saw each other three more times that following week. He came over a couple times after work and one night we met up for happy hour and a movie. While we were sitting at the bar talking I was embarrassed by him for the first time. I didn't really think much of it, thought it was an isolated incident. I had said something inappropriate quite loudly...something about him being the first date I let in my pants or some such thing and he shushed me. I laughed thinking he was kidding, but he was dead serious. I told myself, okay...he likes to be private. This is new considering the other night he was all over me in public, but clearly he does not like to mention the unmentionable when he's sober. Oh well, I could deal with that. But the public scolding would need to stop.
I don't know what movie we saw. I do know that we sat in our seats and I was a bit confused because we had crossed many lines...but here we were sitting in the theater like we were just friends. But this theater offers booze and I learned that each time he had gone to the bathroom he had taken a shot at the bar. Again...nothing seemed unordinary about it at the time. He made friends with the bartender and used the bathroom in the bar so why not take some shots for free if he was offering?
After the movie we walked towards my car and he stopped me at the wall to the carport. He was half drunk and wanted to continue the night. I knew I'd hate myself if I stayed out much later as I had to work the next day...but he was so hard to resist. He had my back up against the wall and started to kiss me right there. In the middle of the parking lot. We were talking and kissing and laughing. The warm nights were changing to cool ones at this point. But I couldn't feel any chill. All I knew was I was standing under the glow of the parking lot light on this perfect September night having one of those romantic moments that only happens in the movies.
And I couldn't stop giggling like a fucking school girl.
I did not stay out that night, but we had many more late nights. He came over often after work because he lived on the east side, but worked on the west side. I work on the east side, but would be back home on the west side before he got off work so it just worked out that he'd always come to my place. We had a lot of fun...but we were always drinking. I bought like 5 bottles of vodka that month it seems like.
I made him dinner once. I posted about it on Facebook and had all these suggestions. I don't cook and had no idea what I was going to do, but I knew I wanted to cook him dinner. This is what we do, right? So I decided on baked chicken, rice, and broccoli. I drank heavily while I cooked because I was so nervous. By the time he got there I had burned the broccoli. I left it to steam a bit longer and he walked in the door and I forgot about it and by the time I remembered, it had turned brown. But you know what he did? He ate it. All of it. And he said it was good. It was sweet. I remember thinking, what a gentleman. Can I keep him?
He came over one night during the weekend and we had the place to ourselves so we partied in the living room. We turned the tv on to a music channel and danced in the living room. We went out and did naughty things on the balcony while people were below in the parking lot. We talked...a lot. And laughed. And drank. And fucked. And drank. And laughed. It was fun. We never go too serious.
Until the one day we did...
The beginning of the end...
It got to the point where I realized he was really conscious of his appearance. Not just his looks, but the way others perceived him. He was always talking about how he worked out on lunch and wanted the people at work to notice. He was always asking me if his outfits looked okay. When we were out together, if I dropped an F-bomb or said anything sexual he would shush me. Like he was embarrassed with my crass behavior. It started to really make me angry. I know I should be more lady like...but I wasn't going to be treated like a child.
One night during our talks it came out that he was religious. He told me that he was okay that I wasn't, but also asked about the future and if I would ever change. I told him that I grew up religious and had all the foundations that the church gives as far as morality and spirituality go...but that when I started forming opinions I decided organized religion was not for me. Plus I didn't believe in the bible. It was a book, written by men. It's a lot of nice stories. Some for morals and values, but others for judging and condemning. I just couldn't get behind an institution that damns people to hell for being different.
And then it came out that he is against gay marriage and I lost my shit. Okay, so I was wasted, but that was it for me. I am not very political, but I have the things I care most strongly about and marriage equality is one of them! I was like, oh no no no no no. He said, what, I have gay friends...I'm not against gay people... I was like, are you kidding me?? I said I would absolutely die if I was told I couldn't marry someone I loved and he told me I was being dramatic. Ugh.
It was then that I started to realize that maybe we weren't as much the same as I thought. Religion and politics are hot button topics I try to avoid. I don't practice either...but I have my convictions and if you don't agree with me...this will never work. I just couldn't see myself being with someone who praises Jesus and condemns marriage equality. Even if every other thing about him is perfect.
But he was not perfect. I started noticing every time he would shush me, or get angry when I talked about my past. I have been no angel. But I never claim to be. I've been single for going on 9 years (yeah, that shit is true) and I like to have sex...so yeah...my numbers are high. But his were higher than mine. And yet he still didn't like to hear me talk about my past.
And I noticed that he drank a lot. He said that he had a lot of pain and it was the only thing that numbed it. Issues much? Good lord. Physical pain should not be dulled with alcohol when there is so much good weed going around this city!
But we had chemistry like I've never had before with anyone. It was absolutely magnetic. I wanted him and he wanted me. He wanted me so badly that he told me all the time. He complimented me and showered me with affection and attention. At least, when he wasn't condemning my immoral past life choices.
He couldn't keep his hands off of me and I loved it! I've never felt more beautiful or wanted in my entire life. He always looked at me with this hunger that I'm not used to seeing. I'm sure hot girls are used to guys wanting them...but this was new for me. Sure, I've fucked some hot men. Some really well-endowed hot men no less...more than once even! But none of them wanted to date me. Yeah, guess I'm pretty fantastic in the sack...thanks, I know. But I'm also a really great person. I'm fun. And hilarious. And energetic. And happy. And ready to love someone with my whole heart.
I would've kept him. I would've put up with all his weird bullshit...like the fact that he worried too much what people thought about him. Or the fact that he was religious. Or the fact that he didn't like it if I was unladylike. Or the fact that he smoked cigarettes. Or the fact that he drank to dull his pain to the point of borderline alcoholism and then drove after drinking that much. Or the fact that he was constantly asking me if he was dressed okay. Or the double standards he had for women. Or the fact that he talked A LOT about himself and barely let me get a word in edgewise half the time. Or anything else I've left out or forgotten about him.
He was the best I have ever found. The closest to the man I asked the universe for. We had a lot in common. We had incredible chemistry. We had a lot of fun together. He made me feel safe when we laid in bed together. He told me all the time how he felt. He complimented me every single day. And he was polite. Well-dressed. Successful. Good-looking. I would be proud to show him off. But then it happened...
The end...
On our first date he had mentioned a job opportunity he was working on that would pay him way more than he made now. I heard the story, but didn't pay much attention or think anything of it besides, great you can pay for our drinks tonight! And then one night we were sitting on my couch and he turns to me and says "I don't want what I'm going to say to change things..."
Uhhh...what?
As it turns out, that job opportunity he had been working on was in Indiana. And it starts November 1st.
He had known this all along and he didn't want to tell me because we were having such a good time. He didn't want me to discount him because of this job that he wasn't sure he was going to take. But he had made up his mind to take it. And move. Three and a half hours and two states away. Might as well have been another planet.
That was it. I would've done it...I would've gone the full 9 yards with this guy hoping that our differences would work each other out because the feelings were just so strong. I thought I could learn to love his quirks and weird ideas. But that was a swift kick to this possible relationship's ass. That was the night he said "well we've been dating and I don't want that to end..." Great, we were officially dating and we didn't say it until the night I decided it was over.
He didn't want it to be over. He said that he had a little over a week and to not make any rash decisions. I was deflated. I couldn't do long distance with a guy I'd known a little over a month. Especially one I was already on the fence about. I wasn't sure I was ready to become the person he wanted. He wanted a lady in the street but a freak in the bed. I had one down and would've worked on the other if he had stayed...but he was leaving and that was when I made my decision.
I told him that I still wanted to see him until he left but that we couldn't move this along further. I know me. I know how attached I can get. I didn't want a broken heart before it was ever full.
Moving on...
I made a date with guy #8 (who will have to be in the next blog) as a means of moving on. I didn't want to have any gap at this point where I would in any way have time to be sad that he was leaving.
Of course, I'm also weak...and I decided to go to dinner with him as "just friends." I didn't want to stop seeing him because he was leaving.
But I found myself rolling my eyes on the inside the entire time while he talked about himself all night and how friends and girlfriends should be direct extensions of him and basically how he couldn't have people in his life that made him look bad in any way. I, of course, said I don't care what my friends do or say as I love them for who they are and do not need to surround myself with people who look good on the outside, but suck on the inside. Another place where we differed.
And then we were outside because apparently I had said one too many f-bombs inside and embarrassed him. I told him that as much as I enjoyed our time together and how he made me feel that I hate being shushed and I hate that he was constantly treating me like a child. I saw the hurt in his eyes so I followed it up with "But I love how you can't keep your hands off of me..." apparently right as some old people were walking in to the restaurant and he shushed me again.
That was it. I said "well apparently I can't have a conversation with you because I'm so fucking inappropriate" and stomped off to my car. We argued over text and that was when I was finally done. I didn't want to end it that way but finally all the shit that had made me angry over the past few weeks about him constantly shushing me, or telling me he didn't like to hear stories of my past because it painted me in an unholy light, or whatever else it was...all that shit just flowed out of me.
Of course the next morning he apologized for hurting my feelings and I apologized for being a raging bitch and we decided he would come over for a bit that day. It was weird honestly, to have him in my living room and know it was over before it ever really started. I didn't know that was the last time I was going to see him...which is good because I hate goodbyes.
I did try to see him again before he left but he was always so busy with his other friends. He assured me that I had seen more of him than any of his friends had over that last month so I didn't argue. Until I realized I wouldn't see him again.
I was standing in the kitchen one night and wishing he was coming over after work. I was washing dishes and I just broke down and cried. It has been a while since I cried over a man. Years actually. And it wasn't a hurt cry for a change...but it was sad nonetheless. I realized that even though I had told myself I found it annoying that he'd walk around my kitchen talking about himself all night and how he had to constantly be slapping my ass or grabbing me...that when it was gone, I missed it.
My tears just came without me even knowing it and it was then that I wondered if I had made a giant mistake. Was it really him leaving that I was sad about? Or that, once again, I was alone. Once again I had swung and missed. Once again, for whatever reasons I had decided on, it didn't work out. I was frustrated. I tried with this one. I really liked this one. When it was good...it was so good.
And I was so close.
All these dates I had gone on...and what did I have to show for it? Nothing.
I cried because I was worried that I was finding something wrong with everyone and sabotaging myself. Was I? Am I doing that now? Am I being too picky? Are all these things I'm finding wrong with all these guys just shit that all other women just put up with? Am I going to have to put up with this stuff that I'm using as a means of justifying why it would never work out?
What the fuck am I doing?
What am I going to do?
Am I ever going to find someone that has everything I need?
Am I ever going to find someone that I don't pick completely to pieces? Have I pushed perfectly good men away that I should be scooping up?
I have to believe that is not the case. I have to believe that every thing I have listed in these last three blogs are all very good reasons for why I'm not dating any of these guys right now. I have to believe that I made the right decisions. That none of these guys are him. I have to have convictions with my decisions. I have to know that there will be someone out there who's crazy matches mine. Someone who likes me for me who I like for him and who isn't perfect, but is perfect for me.
He has to exist. And I will meet him some day. And none of this will matter. I will know it when I find him.
Otherwise this has all been a waste of time.
But I have to find my happily ever after some day. Right?
Number 7:
I met this guy on Match.com. I used to do this adorable thing where I'd drink too much and then go online and shoot out 20 emails to guys just because. I don't normally message guys first because I get really angry when they don't message me back. I don't like being rejected.
But when mama's had a little too much wine, everything sounds like a good idea!
This night I felt like hitting up the hotties. I honestly copied and pasted the same message over and over. Something along the lines of "Hey, I like your profile, wanna meet up for a drink sometime?" I'm not exactly sure what it said...I'm sure it was cooler than that...but then again, I was drunk so who knows what I put ??
Well, this guy actually wrote me back. It was so long ago I don't remember what he said (and I've since deleted my profile so none of that shit is saved.) But we decided to meet up and exchanged numbers. Of course, he wasn't the only guy who wrote me back and I was on two other sites at the same time so I was writing to a lot of guys. This was during guys 3 - 6 so I was already pretty busy. But he was good looking...oh yes, co-worker-confirmed-good-looking.
Texting for weeks...
Like I said, I "met" him while I was smack dab in the middle of going on dates with these other guys so meeting up with him was hard to do. He would always text me as I was getting done working my second job so it would be late and I would be stinky and tired. I thought his messages were so weird too. They were all over the place and it seemed like they weren't connected at all so I thought he was getting me confused with other women in his phone.
I mean, if I'm too busy to meet up with him I figured he'd be busy as well. And whenever I would text him, he'd be off at a wedding or hanging out with his friends, or any other number of things.
Around the time when I was going to the Brewer game with guy number 5 (or was he 6? can't remember) guy number 7 told me he was going to the same game. Initially we had toyed with the idea of meeting up...but then I invited guy 5 (6?) to meet me there so those plans fell through. Later I found out that he had also brought a woman to that game...so us meeting that day would've been reeeal awkward.
His messages were just so random and on random days that it just didn't seem like we were ever going to meet--but he was cute so I kept texting him, because I put up with a lot more shit from guys I think are hot than I do from guys who are just so-so. But finally we figured it out. We found a day we were both free and we set the date for the date. It was a Thursday and I had taken the next Friday off because I had been called in to work at job #2 and didn't want to pull an 18 hour day. So it worked out, it was a weekday, but I didn't have a pumpkin time of 9pm!
The first date...
His profile suggested he was a professional so I suggested we meet for happy hour at Graze. It's a swanky restaurant on the square that has 2-4-1 glasses of wine until 6pm. I was coming straight from work and so was he. I was nervous as fuck because I felt the vibes with this one. I liked him on paper and was really hoping to like him in real life.
I got out of work earlier than him and planned to have at least one glass of wine down before he got there...calm the nerves and such. He texted me the entire time to let me know when he was expected to reach the bar. I wasn't worried, because the more time I had, the more wine I could drink, the less uptight I'd be. I hate getting there first--but this time I needed the joy juice!
We were constantly texting until the minute he arrived. I was able to get the first glass of wine down and was just about to get the second when this well dressed man approached me. I about died. YES! Every fiber in my body yelled when he went in for a hug. Yes, yes, yes! He's good looking, and well-dressed, and smelled great, and smiled when he saw me, and hot damn I hit the jackpot!
He scooted right up to me and instantly began talking. All about his day, his job, this promotion he was going for...on and on. I just sat there and nodded and threw in a word edgewise all the while unable to believe that this guy was actually on a date with me. Me. Me. Yes, me. Say what?! It was too good to be true. I waited for him to toss out a red flag or show some crazy, but it didn't come. No ex girlfriend/wife hang ups. No social awkwardness. Nothing.
And he was fully engaged in me the entire time...the few times I was able to talk anyway. He just stared in to my eyes and asked questions and gave me the best first date of my life in less than 30 minutes.
Over the course of the night I had two more glasses of wine and he drank a couple martinis. Safe to say my inhibitions did not exist after that third glass of wine. I was punch drunk and most likely real life drunk. I had to slow down. I didn't have to work the next day, but I had to drive. So I switched to water.
He confessed to me that he had asked his boss for the next day off when he heard I had taken off. When he told me that I decided then and there that this was going to be a good night.
All we had to eat was cheese and bread--neither one of us could agree on if we wanted a full meal or not so we just picked some cheeses, some spreads, and ordered a little platter. This would lead to me getting oh so very drunk before the night was over...
Hook. Line. Sinker.
At one point he left to go to the bathroom. While I was sitting there looking around and wondering when the restaurant had gotten so packed (I was so in to this guy I didn't even notice the place fill up) my phone buzzed. I had a text. I pulled it up and it said "You are so hot." My first thought was "did he just text me from the bathroom?" and then he sent a follow up message "Yes I just texted you from the bathroom." I laughed out loud. Hot, huh? I'm never hot. Cute, yes I've gotten cute. But never hot.
When he came back from the bathroom my heart fluttered. Yes, the shit that happens in the movies. I knew this was going to be it for me. Up until that point, we were sitting at a bar talking side to side, but then he turned me so that I was facing him and our legs were touching. And then he placed his hands on my knees and held me there and looked in to my eyes and continued the conversation. I don't even know what we talked about. It doesn't even matter.
By the time he asked me for a kiss I was so drunk on wine and drunk on this wonderful feeling he was giving me that I didn't even care that we were in the middle of a packed bar. I didn't even care that he was going out for a cigarette. I didn't have a care in the whole damn world at that moment. He left me with his credit card and said "pay the bill while I'm out" and I did what he asked. It was so natural. And I made him pay for my last two drinks because that's what you get when you leave me with your credit card and tell me to pay....
He came back and I couldn't even tell he had been smoking. He is the type of guy who worries about that and had already popped a mint and refreshed his cologne. I don't like smokers...but this guy...well this guy I'd make an exception for. Most definitely.
We left Graze and headed to the Old Fashioned. He asked what I wanted to do and I just stood there with nothing. So he asked if I had booze at my place and I shook my head no (for the record, that was the last time I would be found without at least one bottle of vodka at my place). He told me he lived on the east side and had drinks so we could go there.
Back to his place? Up until that point all my dates had ended with either a half hug or an awkward wave or a sprint to my car. While I have been known to go home with random strangers before (and I will NOT be judged for that), I decided that these dates needed to stay PG. Until guy number 7 that is...
The air between us was so electrically charged. It could have been the three glasses of wine that moved it along so quickly...but it was unmistakable. He couldn't keep his hands off of me, and frankly, I didn't want him to. So yes, back to his place sounded like a plan. Before I knew it, I was putting his address in to my phone's gps and getting in my car...
I made it to his place and parked. And I texted him I was there. He came out and grabbed me and hugged me and thanked me for coming over. It was wonderful.
His place...
Coincidentally I had yoga pants and a t-shirt in my trunk that I changed in to. Been working out and frankly, my ass looks hot in yoga pants. I knew it. And now he knew it. He also changed in to athletic shorts and a tshirt. The man looked good in his crisp button down and expensive pants...and he looked even better in a Hanes and shorts. Damn!
His roommate was home and I met him briefly...and his adorable yellow lab. But he knew when to make his exit, and he had to work early, so before long we were alone. He poured us a couple of very stiff drinks and then decided to give me the grand tour.
It was just an apartment so I wasn't sure where else to look, but he had all these things on his walls that he had collected when he traveled. Apparently this man had been around the world and he liked to buy things. He had pictures, and paintings, and artifacts, and even a couple swords. As he told me his stories I sucked down vodka like my life depended on it because I was, for the first time in a long time, nervous for what I knew was about to happen.
Every once in a while he'd break in his story and look down at me and just plant one on me. It was drunk, it was sloppy, and it was wonderful.
I know we talked but I honestly don't remember what about. For being such a small place, he sure had a lot of stuff! And I heard all about it. For once, I wasn't the one telling all the stories and I really enjoyed just being wanted by him and listening to him and being kissed by him. I didn't even care about anything else. He kept grabbing me and saying how great my ass was or how beautiful my eyes were or how great my smile was. And I ate it up. I have never, in my life, had a man gush about me over and over and over. Never once. And let me tell you ladies...if you haven't either--get on that right now! I danced around and soaked up the compliments.
When he finally shut up, turned off the lights in the kitchen, grabbed my hand, and walked to his room...I was not only drunker than I had been in a while...but I was the happiest person in the entire world at that moment.
The morning after...
I can never sleep well at a guy's place. I can never sleep well anywhere other than my own bed which means I'm always up first. I woke up a little confused. My head was on his chest and his arm was tight around me. Did I really sleep all night like that? And by "all night" I mean for the three or four hours I actually slept.
I didn't want to move to wake him up. My eyes focused in the light of day and I realized I hadn't seen any of his room the night before in the pitch black so I had a good look around from under the crook of his arm. I loved seeing all his really nice shirts and ties and pants hanging in his closet. Yesterday was not a fluke, this man had great taste!
At some point, nature took hold and I had to get up. I went in to the bathroom and turned on the light and looked at myself in the mirror expecting a horror show. But what I saw was the absolute opposite. I had an unmistakable glow about me. Let me tell you a little story about how just-fucked hair looks pretty fantastic. Usually I look like a shit show in the morning but seriously, you can't buy product to give your hair the volume you get rolling around in a bed all night! Haha...yeah...
I tried to go back to sleep but it was fitful. I just couldn't sleep so mostly I just laid there and watched him sleep and basked in the glow of it all.
The best part about waking up next to a man is when you get back in to bed, scoot up next to him, and wrap your arms around him...then he half wakes up and takes the rest of you in his arms. Yeah, I like that. I also like when they wake up and are ready to go again. Yeah, I like that too.
Let's get breakfast...
I have done my fair share of waking up next to a man...either one I barely know...or one I know too well. And it always ends the same. Well, we're up...guess whoever doesn't live here is leaving now. I mentally prepared to get my ass kicked out of his apartment as I was putting my clothes back on--same old, same old, I thought. But then something happened. He looked over at me and said "Let's go get some breakfast. Where do you want to go?"
Ahem. Cough. What? This was a first.
And jesus h was I starving! My dinner of cheese and vodka coupled with ten rounds in the ring were enough to starve anyone. He asked me if I wanted to sit and have a cup of coffee before we left. Um, beg your pardon? You want to have a nice morning with me now? Not just...now let's get some bacon! At this point it was painfully obvious that I'm not 22 anymore. The hangover started to kick in like no one's business and I needed food...stat. I declined the coffee and said, let's just have it at the restaurant.
He had to take his roommate's dog out so he puts on his shorts and asks me which sweat shirt he should wear. Seriously? He wants my opinion on his wardrobe? I chose the red. Seemed like the right color. So then he takes the dog and goes outside. I fixed myself up as best I could and waited. I sat at the counter and looked out the window at him and the dog below.
Did that really just happen? Did I really just go home with this hot man and have that wild night and now we're going to breakfast?
I wanted to pinch myself.
On our way to breakfast he asked me if I wanted to go back to his place after we ate and watch movies all day. Now wait just one minute. Hold the goddamn phone! Not only did he invite me over, then I spent the night, then we woke up and he asked me to breakfast, and now he wanted to hang out. I had just successfully beat the one-night-stand. This was officially not a wham, bam, thank you ma'am. I was in. Like, for real.
Buuuut, my stomach had other plans. I wanted nothing more than to lay and be lazy with him all day, but my hangover was reaching monumental proportions at this point. I said "let's just make it through breakfast first...I don't feel so good...ugh...."
We got to Perkins (my choice because I like their omelettes). I sat down and looked at him and looked around. Yes, this was me...me...with this hot man...after the best first date I've ever had. Yes old lady in the next booth--he's with me. I was able to savor the moment for about five minutes before my breathing turned heavy and I needed to excuse myself.
I went to the bathroom and immediately dropped to my knees. Oh mother of god, why now? Why today? Why can't I just not be hungover this one time???
I went back to the table and our food was there. He was digging in to his french toast. I looked at my plate of delicious food and immediately jumped up again and ran to the bathroom.
By the time I came back out my food was boxed and it was clearly time to go. I sat outside on the bench while he paid. I begged and pleaded to the universe to just let me have this one morning...but my 31 year old body wanted nothing to do with me. It was painfully obvious that my date had to be over. I wasn't going to last another minute. Wasn't even sure I'd make it home. I desperately needed a nap before I had to go in to work that night.
Goodbye for now...?
He drove me to my car and then parked and walked me to it. Then he grabbed me and hugged me and thanked me for the great night. He said he had a great time and that it was lot of fun, and I said the same. There was no kiss goodbye, thanks vomit mouth...so we hugged again.
I got in my car and drove home in a dream. A very hungover dream. He didn't say "let's do it again sometime" so I was desperately hoping that he felt the same way I did and would text soon. I only had to wait until I got home before he had sent the "did you make it home okay?" text. There it was again...proof that I had just avoided a one-nighter.
And hello again...
We saw each other three more times that following week. He came over a couple times after work and one night we met up for happy hour and a movie. While we were sitting at the bar talking I was embarrassed by him for the first time. I didn't really think much of it, thought it was an isolated incident. I had said something inappropriate quite loudly...something about him being the first date I let in my pants or some such thing and he shushed me. I laughed thinking he was kidding, but he was dead serious. I told myself, okay...he likes to be private. This is new considering the other night he was all over me in public, but clearly he does not like to mention the unmentionable when he's sober. Oh well, I could deal with that. But the public scolding would need to stop.
I don't know what movie we saw. I do know that we sat in our seats and I was a bit confused because we had crossed many lines...but here we were sitting in the theater like we were just friends. But this theater offers booze and I learned that each time he had gone to the bathroom he had taken a shot at the bar. Again...nothing seemed unordinary about it at the time. He made friends with the bartender and used the bathroom in the bar so why not take some shots for free if he was offering?
After the movie we walked towards my car and he stopped me at the wall to the carport. He was half drunk and wanted to continue the night. I knew I'd hate myself if I stayed out much later as I had to work the next day...but he was so hard to resist. He had my back up against the wall and started to kiss me right there. In the middle of the parking lot. We were talking and kissing and laughing. The warm nights were changing to cool ones at this point. But I couldn't feel any chill. All I knew was I was standing under the glow of the parking lot light on this perfect September night having one of those romantic moments that only happens in the movies.
And I couldn't stop giggling like a fucking school girl.
I did not stay out that night, but we had many more late nights. He came over often after work because he lived on the east side, but worked on the west side. I work on the east side, but would be back home on the west side before he got off work so it just worked out that he'd always come to my place. We had a lot of fun...but we were always drinking. I bought like 5 bottles of vodka that month it seems like.
I made him dinner once. I posted about it on Facebook and had all these suggestions. I don't cook and had no idea what I was going to do, but I knew I wanted to cook him dinner. This is what we do, right? So I decided on baked chicken, rice, and broccoli. I drank heavily while I cooked because I was so nervous. By the time he got there I had burned the broccoli. I left it to steam a bit longer and he walked in the door and I forgot about it and by the time I remembered, it had turned brown. But you know what he did? He ate it. All of it. And he said it was good. It was sweet. I remember thinking, what a gentleman. Can I keep him?
He came over one night during the weekend and we had the place to ourselves so we partied in the living room. We turned the tv on to a music channel and danced in the living room. We went out and did naughty things on the balcony while people were below in the parking lot. We talked...a lot. And laughed. And drank. And fucked. And drank. And laughed. It was fun. We never go too serious.
Until the one day we did...
The beginning of the end...
It got to the point where I realized he was really conscious of his appearance. Not just his looks, but the way others perceived him. He was always talking about how he worked out on lunch and wanted the people at work to notice. He was always asking me if his outfits looked okay. When we were out together, if I dropped an F-bomb or said anything sexual he would shush me. Like he was embarrassed with my crass behavior. It started to really make me angry. I know I should be more lady like...but I wasn't going to be treated like a child.
One night during our talks it came out that he was religious. He told me that he was okay that I wasn't, but also asked about the future and if I would ever change. I told him that I grew up religious and had all the foundations that the church gives as far as morality and spirituality go...but that when I started forming opinions I decided organized religion was not for me. Plus I didn't believe in the bible. It was a book, written by men. It's a lot of nice stories. Some for morals and values, but others for judging and condemning. I just couldn't get behind an institution that damns people to hell for being different.
And then it came out that he is against gay marriage and I lost my shit. Okay, so I was wasted, but that was it for me. I am not very political, but I have the things I care most strongly about and marriage equality is one of them! I was like, oh no no no no no. He said, what, I have gay friends...I'm not against gay people... I was like, are you kidding me?? I said I would absolutely die if I was told I couldn't marry someone I loved and he told me I was being dramatic. Ugh.
It was then that I started to realize that maybe we weren't as much the same as I thought. Religion and politics are hot button topics I try to avoid. I don't practice either...but I have my convictions and if you don't agree with me...this will never work. I just couldn't see myself being with someone who praises Jesus and condemns marriage equality. Even if every other thing about him is perfect.
But he was not perfect. I started noticing every time he would shush me, or get angry when I talked about my past. I have been no angel. But I never claim to be. I've been single for going on 9 years (yeah, that shit is true) and I like to have sex...so yeah...my numbers are high. But his were higher than mine. And yet he still didn't like to hear me talk about my past.
And I noticed that he drank a lot. He said that he had a lot of pain and it was the only thing that numbed it. Issues much? Good lord. Physical pain should not be dulled with alcohol when there is so much good weed going around this city!
But we had chemistry like I've never had before with anyone. It was absolutely magnetic. I wanted him and he wanted me. He wanted me so badly that he told me all the time. He complimented me and showered me with affection and attention. At least, when he wasn't condemning my immoral past life choices.
He couldn't keep his hands off of me and I loved it! I've never felt more beautiful or wanted in my entire life. He always looked at me with this hunger that I'm not used to seeing. I'm sure hot girls are used to guys wanting them...but this was new for me. Sure, I've fucked some hot men. Some really well-endowed hot men no less...more than once even! But none of them wanted to date me. Yeah, guess I'm pretty fantastic in the sack...thanks, I know. But I'm also a really great person. I'm fun. And hilarious. And energetic. And happy. And ready to love someone with my whole heart.
I would've kept him. I would've put up with all his weird bullshit...like the fact that he worried too much what people thought about him. Or the fact that he was religious. Or the fact that he didn't like it if I was unladylike. Or the fact that he smoked cigarettes. Or the fact that he drank to dull his pain to the point of borderline alcoholism and then drove after drinking that much. Or the fact that he was constantly asking me if he was dressed okay. Or the double standards he had for women. Or the fact that he talked A LOT about himself and barely let me get a word in edgewise half the time. Or anything else I've left out or forgotten about him.
He was the best I have ever found. The closest to the man I asked the universe for. We had a lot in common. We had incredible chemistry. We had a lot of fun together. He made me feel safe when we laid in bed together. He told me all the time how he felt. He complimented me every single day. And he was polite. Well-dressed. Successful. Good-looking. I would be proud to show him off. But then it happened...
The end...
On our first date he had mentioned a job opportunity he was working on that would pay him way more than he made now. I heard the story, but didn't pay much attention or think anything of it besides, great you can pay for our drinks tonight! And then one night we were sitting on my couch and he turns to me and says "I don't want what I'm going to say to change things..."
Uhhh...what?
As it turns out, that job opportunity he had been working on was in Indiana. And it starts November 1st.
He had known this all along and he didn't want to tell me because we were having such a good time. He didn't want me to discount him because of this job that he wasn't sure he was going to take. But he had made up his mind to take it. And move. Three and a half hours and two states away. Might as well have been another planet.
That was it. I would've done it...I would've gone the full 9 yards with this guy hoping that our differences would work each other out because the feelings were just so strong. I thought I could learn to love his quirks and weird ideas. But that was a swift kick to this possible relationship's ass. That was the night he said "well we've been dating and I don't want that to end..." Great, we were officially dating and we didn't say it until the night I decided it was over.
He didn't want it to be over. He said that he had a little over a week and to not make any rash decisions. I was deflated. I couldn't do long distance with a guy I'd known a little over a month. Especially one I was already on the fence about. I wasn't sure I was ready to become the person he wanted. He wanted a lady in the street but a freak in the bed. I had one down and would've worked on the other if he had stayed...but he was leaving and that was when I made my decision.
I told him that I still wanted to see him until he left but that we couldn't move this along further. I know me. I know how attached I can get. I didn't want a broken heart before it was ever full.
Moving on...
I made a date with guy #8 (who will have to be in the next blog) as a means of moving on. I didn't want to have any gap at this point where I would in any way have time to be sad that he was leaving.
Of course, I'm also weak...and I decided to go to dinner with him as "just friends." I didn't want to stop seeing him because he was leaving.
But I found myself rolling my eyes on the inside the entire time while he talked about himself all night and how friends and girlfriends should be direct extensions of him and basically how he couldn't have people in his life that made him look bad in any way. I, of course, said I don't care what my friends do or say as I love them for who they are and do not need to surround myself with people who look good on the outside, but suck on the inside. Another place where we differed.
And then we were outside because apparently I had said one too many f-bombs inside and embarrassed him. I told him that as much as I enjoyed our time together and how he made me feel that I hate being shushed and I hate that he was constantly treating me like a child. I saw the hurt in his eyes so I followed it up with "But I love how you can't keep your hands off of me..." apparently right as some old people were walking in to the restaurant and he shushed me again.
That was it. I said "well apparently I can't have a conversation with you because I'm so fucking inappropriate" and stomped off to my car. We argued over text and that was when I was finally done. I didn't want to end it that way but finally all the shit that had made me angry over the past few weeks about him constantly shushing me, or telling me he didn't like to hear stories of my past because it painted me in an unholy light, or whatever else it was...all that shit just flowed out of me.
Of course the next morning he apologized for hurting my feelings and I apologized for being a raging bitch and we decided he would come over for a bit that day. It was weird honestly, to have him in my living room and know it was over before it ever really started. I didn't know that was the last time I was going to see him...which is good because I hate goodbyes.
I did try to see him again before he left but he was always so busy with his other friends. He assured me that I had seen more of him than any of his friends had over that last month so I didn't argue. Until I realized I wouldn't see him again.
I was standing in the kitchen one night and wishing he was coming over after work. I was washing dishes and I just broke down and cried. It has been a while since I cried over a man. Years actually. And it wasn't a hurt cry for a change...but it was sad nonetheless. I realized that even though I had told myself I found it annoying that he'd walk around my kitchen talking about himself all night and how he had to constantly be slapping my ass or grabbing me...that when it was gone, I missed it.
My tears just came without me even knowing it and it was then that I wondered if I had made a giant mistake. Was it really him leaving that I was sad about? Or that, once again, I was alone. Once again I had swung and missed. Once again, for whatever reasons I had decided on, it didn't work out. I was frustrated. I tried with this one. I really liked this one. When it was good...it was so good.
And I was so close.
All these dates I had gone on...and what did I have to show for it? Nothing.
I cried because I was worried that I was finding something wrong with everyone and sabotaging myself. Was I? Am I doing that now? Am I being too picky? Are all these things I'm finding wrong with all these guys just shit that all other women just put up with? Am I going to have to put up with this stuff that I'm using as a means of justifying why it would never work out?
What the fuck am I doing?
What am I going to do?
Am I ever going to find someone that has everything I need?
Am I ever going to find someone that I don't pick completely to pieces? Have I pushed perfectly good men away that I should be scooping up?
I have to believe that is not the case. I have to believe that every thing I have listed in these last three blogs are all very good reasons for why I'm not dating any of these guys right now. I have to believe that I made the right decisions. That none of these guys are him. I have to have convictions with my decisions. I have to know that there will be someone out there who's crazy matches mine. Someone who likes me for me who I like for him and who isn't perfect, but is perfect for me.
He has to exist. And I will meet him some day. And none of this will matter. I will know it when I find him.
Otherwise this has all been a waste of time.
But I have to find my happily ever after some day. Right?
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