Wrapping Up

I had a Tinder date yesterday afternoon. This guy was kind enough to drive to a Starbucks that was significantly closer to me than it was to him where we engaged in about 45 minutes of conversation over beverages.

He was pleasant and the conversation flowed easily enough, but I knew from the moment I laid eyes on him that I was not at all physically attracted to him and never would be. And that was all she wrote.

He looked decent enough in his Tinder pictures – boyishly cute at least, even if not necessarily handsome – but he did text me a freshly taken one the other night that was a little borderline. Be that as it may, as I don’t consider myself particularly photogenic, I recognize that other people also may not be so I try not to write people off right away based on inconclusive photos. So when he asked to meet yesterday I said what the hell and gave it a whirl.

It’s actually the same exact way I felt about Dusty. He looked decent in his photos, but I had trouble deciding if I really thought he was cute or not. But since we clicked so well I gave him a shot and while he actually wasn’t, like, strikingly handsome or anything, he turned out to be cute and I was attracted to him overall.

This guy…not so much. He was in fact not cute at all. Which is not necessarily the end of the world in itself. He did have pretty blue eyes. But on top of not being particularly attractive in the face, his teeth were pretty atrocious. Besides some of them being crooked and/or misshapen, they were a pretty noticeable shade of yellow. Like, a dingy yellow bordering on brown. Mustard colored. There were even some tiny specks of actual brown here and there. Just…gross looking. He didn’t seem to be a smoker but he said he used to drink a lot of coffee.

Not quite, but close!
Not quite, but close!

So, call me shallow, but those teeth just weren’t going to work for me. And I myself spent the majority of my life with imperfect teeth so maybe I’m the last person that should be so picky about them. But then again, as I’ve spent over $5,000 and the last year of my life on Invisalign to correct mine, maybe I do feel a little entitled. I don’t know. But whatever imperfections I may have had, my teeth have never been just straight yellow. Yuck.

So…no. This was a definite no-go from the start. But he drove for quite a bit to meet and just because I didn’t feel any attraction to him doesn’t necessitate any rudeness on my part, so I put forth the effort to get to know him for the sake of conversation.

When it was time to leave he walked me to my car, we hugged, and he said he’d like to see me again soon. He hasn’t texted or called since so for all I know I might not have been his cup of tea either. Which would be just fine with me. In fact, I HOPE that’s the case.

Anyway…here we are on the cusp of 2015. Another year gone by and while I’m not exactly where I want to be in life just yet, I’d say I had a good 2014 overall. Job-wise, I made out okay. If I put my mind to it and hustle, I can move up by the end of 2015.

Me-wise…I’m happy with myself. I lost some extra poundage that had snuck up on me over the past several years and have stayed in the gym regularly and I’m loving my body at this point. I want to lose 10 more, but I’ve been wanting that for the past 6 months or so. I’ll get around to it one of these days. As mentioned, my Invisalign has worked wonders and the skyrocketing smile compliments and noticeable improvement to my appearance have been well worth the money and energy. I feel beautiful, and I feel confident. I’m not sure I’ve ever felt like that to this extent.

Romance-wise…eh. I’m still in the same place I was at this time a year ago: chronically single. It’d be nice for that not to be the case one of these days, but one other thing that added confidence has given me is the strength to be less inclined to put up with anyone’s BS and to remain firm in steadfastly refusing to settle for anyone who isn’t absolutely right for me.

My only real “resolution” is to leave all the nonsense from 2014 IN 2014. And that includes certain people.

Like Robbie. Haven’t spoken to him since December 12th and I don’t care to. Haven’t had any more contact with his (ex?) girlfriend and I don’t care to.

Like JP. Haven’t spoken to him since November when I wished him a happy birthday. Which he didn’t bother to answer. As of my latest Facebook stalking endeavors last week or whenever, he and LMDP still seem to be going strong. I guess I was wrong about my 90-day deadline, as well as my ballpark end-of-the-year estimate. And…I don’t really care. Why be worried about some Tinder guy who led me on and stood me up and who I’ve never even met? At the end of the day, given what I know and feel about LMDP, if that’s the kind of girl who makes him instantly fall head over heels, that just goes to show that he and I were ultimately completely unsuited for each other. She and I are opposites. So if that’s what’s floating his boat, then he and I most likely wouldn’t have worked.

Like Blaze. Who, since our episode back in early December, has been sniffing around wanting to hang out here and there. But I know he’s really only after one thing and it doesn’t interest me in the least at this juncture. He’s not offering anything substantial and I’m not interested in whatever he is offering.

Moving forward, moving on…

Woe is Him

I went to sleep last night thinking my emotions concerning the Robbie situation were pretty much settled and that I could just be okay with it and move on. But when I woke up this morning…not so much.

I realized I was still angry. And even more than that…feeling kind of spiteful. Spiteful enough to break my word and proceed with sending the girlfriend every single last text message Robbie and I ever exchanged just so she can be crystal clear about how sneaky, deceptive, and depraved her boyfriend really was. To her and to me.

I just felt like being a vengeful bitch, really. I felt like – in case she might be (foolishly) leaning towards forgiving him and staying with him to work things out – completely obliterating any chance of that happening. And I know, even if she’s still dumb enough to give him another chance as things stand now, those texts would probably quickly put an end to any thoughts of that.

I know it and he knows it. That’s why he was practically begging me not to do that yesterday.

I decided to be nice and at least try to talk about it with him first. I texted him to warn him that I was feeling that way since it’s not especially nice to find out after investing so much effort and energy into someone that you’ve been the his fool all along. He offered a weak apology and then whined about me making him feel even worse when he’s already hurting inside and hadn’t slept well all night. Cry me a river.

Then, I guess because I didn’t answer quickly enough and he was paranoid, he called me. To ask me again to please, please, please just leave it alone and not to add more fuel to the fire. He was adamant that they are done…she told him she seriously doubts there’s any hope for them at any point in the future. He declared yesterday the worst day of his life and said he wishes he could fast forward to two months from now when he’ll be over it. Awwwwww.

A tiny, sadistic portion of me kind of savored hearing him wallow in his own misery. And admittedly, it was basically a bit of a power trip. He needs me, in a way. A week and a half ago he was kicking me to the curb like I was nothing, and now he needs me as an ally so that I don’t make him look like even more of a jackass than he already does. A week and a half ago he wanted nothing to do with me, now all of a sudden we can maybe be friends. He even alluded to some kind of possible romantic future between us if he’s “perfectly single” and over everything some months down the road.

Ha! Yeah…because you’re such a catch and I will still want you then. Doubt it. The fact of the matter is, he’s only being (somewhat) amicable with me for the moment because he’s afraid I’ll pull the trigger on sending those texts. He apologized several times for hurting me, but I know he doesn’t really mean it. He only cares because he lost his girlfriend. He’s only sorry because he got caught. I’m sure he’s hurting over his girlfriend, but I don’t for one minute thing he cares anything about my feelings. He’s sorry that I was smart enough to put 2 and 2 together and to get him caught. He’s so transparent. He’s just trying to placate me. Funny how the tables have turned. It amuses me a little to see him sitting on pins and needles now, scared that I’ll let out all his dirt.

But really, there’s very little chance that I’ll do it. It’ll only keep things going, and I really do want to move on. If she gets back with him, that’s on her. He’s already cheated on you 2 confirmed times, even going so far as to break off an engagement…how many times has he done it and NOT been caught? She even said herself that she didn’t think I was the only one. Some relationship.

He texted me a little while after our phone conversation to tell me that he’s going to work on becoming a better person. And that maybe getting caught will help him to change, so he thanks me. Right.

In other news…I attended an open bar holiday party on Wednesday night and thus got the better part of tipsy.

In my less-than-lucid state of mind, I decided to text Dusty. And to call him. He didn’t respond to either attempt, which is just as well. I sent him a text the next day to apologize and promised him he’d never hear from me again. That was Embarrassment #1.

Not satisfied with that, I then drunk dialed Blaze. Ugh. He wasn’t bothered by it, but still….Embarrassment #2.

I also managed to engage in measures that I’m sure cemented my status as an official stalker by partaking in some supremely obvious, and probably annoying, Facebook stalking of a silly crush. So mortifying. That’d be Embarrassment #3.

I apologized to Blaze the next morning, and only half-seriously asked him to bring me a Gatorade. To my surprise, he actually did it. And what do you know? He was actually at my house for the better part of an hour. Wow! We even cuddled some. I’m sure he had ulterior motives and I gave him a little bit of play, but only for old times’ sake. I’m not really trying to fall back down into that rabbit hole.

Hi and Bye

Last Sunday, in the wake of the cataclysmic conclusion of whatever it was that me and Robbie had going on, naturally (or not) I took to Tinder for solace.

I surprised myself by being in the mood for it. I wasn’t, like, devastated over Robbie or anything because there wasn’t much to be devastated over. We’d hadn’t spent any significant time together or had sex or really any kind of real attachment whatsoever besides a litany of texts. Even still, there’s a certain feeling of withdrawal when you find yourself suddenly on the outs with someone you were used to talking to on a daily basis. There’s kind of a jolt to the system, like coming to a sudden stop in a speeding car. So I was feeling a little sour over it, and usually when I’m feeling that way about a guy it’s next to impossible for me to even think about trying to focus on anybody else.

So I was surprised that I found myself trolling Tinder. And that I wasn’t comparing everyone to Robbie out of wistfulness like I usually do after any romantic failure. That’s usually why it’s so hard for me to try to date immediately afterward. But this time it really wasn’t much of an issue. I guess that just goes to show that maybe I didn’t like Robbie as much as I thought I did.

During my Tinder travels I ended up swiping right on a cute blond guy whom I shall affectionately refer to as Dusty. And I’m usually not into blonds. I tend to have a weakness specifically for dark-haired guys with blue eyes. But hair color notwithstanding, I thought Dusty was pretty attractive. And as luck would have it, he thought the same of me because he swiped right eventually too and from there we got to talking.

He was engaging, witty, funny, and we clicked through effortless conversation. It wasn’t too long before he gave me his phone number and we progressed to texting. When we were ready to call it a night, we agreed to speak the next day.

Only…when I heard from him the next evening he was texting to tell me that he doesn’t think it’s a good idea if we talk any further. He was still getting over a recent breakup and hadn’t realized he was still harboring feelings about it until I asked him the night before if he was actually single. He felt that he should spend some time alone. That was a blower, but what can you do? At least he bothered to text me at all to explain.

I’m not quite sure why – maybe because I didn’t know him well and didn’t think I’d be speaking to him after that night anyway and just wanted to vent – but I asked him if I could talk to him about the Robbie situation really quick before we parted ways for good. (I had mentioned it during our initial conversation, but didn’t get into details.) He agreed, and I relayed the gist of that situation to him. He actively listened and provided insightful feedback, and from there, before I knew it, we had drifted back into normal conversation again. He kind of alluded to maybe having jumped the gun a bit by trying to cut things off so early, but I wasn’t confident that I’d hear from him after that night even though he said we’d talk the next day.

But I did. Throughout Tuesday evening it was more of the same. And I was really liking him. He seemed like a sweetheart. A genuinely nice guy. And smart. With an established, interesting career, a stable background…all the good stuff. Things seemed to be going just swimmingly.

He asked me out on Wednesday afternoon. Only he wanted to go out the next night and I was going to be working. I told him I was free that night, but he had an exercise class late into the evening and so wasn’t able to meet up until around 10 PM. So we planned for 10 initially, but in the end he decided to skip the class so he could come out earlier.

There was a certain neighborhood of restaurants he wanted to go to not far from me (he lives about an hour away). He said he’d prefer to go the traditional route of picking me up, but under the circumstances he was fine with just meeting there. As a compromise (and because parking sucks in the restaurant area anyway), I parked my car in the vicinity of a strip of bars I frequent that is a few miles away and directed him to meet me there so we could drive to the restaurant together.

What a gentleman he was. When he saw me coming he immediately hopped out and walked me over to the passenger side of his truck to open my door for me. And he was just as adorable in person as he was in his pictures. Very tall – 6″3″ – which I just love because I’m a tall girl myself and I loves me my heels. Solidly built. Alluringly scented. I was very pleased.

Dinner was excellent. We ate at a great Italian restaurant that I knew was a good bet from eating there a couple of times in the past. There was no initial period of shyness or awkwardness that there can sometimes be on a first date. I immediately felt comfortable with him and the conversation and laughter came just as easily in person as it had through texting. The chemistry was palpable after a while. I was really enjoying myself.

We weren’t yet ready to call it a night after dinner, so we drove back over to where my car was and had a couple of drinks at one of my go-to spots there. I’d had 2 glasses of wine at dinner already, so after my second vodka & soda at the bar, I figured it was time to call it a night. Never a good look to get hammered on a first date.

As we were wrapping things up he told me he wanted to kiss me but knew it would be kind of awkward in the middle of a bar. Once we got outside he pulled me over to him and planted a kiss on me. And it was a good one. And I wanted more. But I wasn’t about to make out with him in the middle of the street, so we hopped back in his truck and I directed him to a waterfront parking area just moments away.

We spent maybe a half hour in his truck looking at the water. And talking. And kissing. More kissing than talking. We couldn’t get enough of one another. I could’ve made out with him for hours, but in the spirit of being a good girl, I managed to pull myself away before things got too carried away. He drove me back to my car, walked me to it, and kissed me goodnight. I went to bed that night with a smile on my face.

The next day he texted me to tell me good morning, and we talked somewhat throughout the day but not too extensively. I was working that night and he was feeling kind of ill and taking medication that made him drowsy, so I wasn’t too pressed about not getting to talk much. I figured at some point we’d make plans to get together again and I was looking forward to it. I felt good about him and was prepared to be patient.

And there I was on Friday, in the middle of writing about Robbie and all set to eventually expound on the charms and promise of Dusty at some point…

And then I got the fatal texts.

The gist of it was that he’s still not over his ex-girlfriend. He hates to hurt me in any way, but he’s not ready to date. He wants to take some time for himself and be alone. I tried reminding him that there are actually intermediate stages to romance…you now, a middle ground between going on a first date and getting married. Like…talking. Getting to know one another. Being friends. Things of that nature.

But he said it’s “all or nothing” for him and it’s just the way he’s wired. Hmph.

I was taken aback, of course. And at the end of the day, his explanation essentially boiled down to the old tried and true “It’s not you, it’s me.” Everyone knows that an explanation like that is complete BS 95% of the time. What it usually means is that it is in fact actually YOU, but he or she doesn’t want to hurt your feelings. So it was difficult to hear something like that in so many words and not feel like I failed to live up to his standards in some unknown way when I was thinking this had so much potential.

He reminded me that he had almost cut things off after our very first conversation, thus going to show that he was obviously having reservations before we even met. True enough. That’s the only reason that I managed to believe in what he said. It really wasn’t me. It was in fact him.

Even still…really? After we had such a great time together? Our sizzling chemistry? Why’d you bother making out with me then? “Because you’re beautiful and I was attracted to you.” Right.

Part of me was hoping that some way, somehow, he’d change his mind once he could see how bummed I was over it. But it was all for naught…his mind was clearly all made up. He said he’s lost right now, and possibly still in love with his ex-girlfriend. But he wasn’t sure if he was really still in love with her still or just lonely. Either way, he needed to step away and be alone to figure things out.

He certainly wasn’t kissing me like he was in love with someone else. But whatever.

He remarked several times on how great and wonderful and amazing I was, and wanted me to be absolutely certain that this had nothing to do with me. But how could I possibly think that it didn’t? If I’m so amazing, why would you let me slip away? Those two events are mutually exclusive events in my head.

At least that’s how I view things. But men and women are wired differently, I realize. I heard something said once along the lines of how settling down for men is a mostly function of WHEN, whereas for women it’s mostly a function of WHO. Meaning: A man is only going to settle down when he has it in his head that he’s ready to, and who he’s with at the time might not necessarily be that critical of a factor. He just might let “the one” get away and then 6 months later marry someone questionable just because that’s who he happened to be with at the time that he decided it was time to settle. Women, on the other hand, are pretty much ready to settle whenever they come across a person they can see themselves setting with. Period. The end.

I’ve always believed there was some truth to that, and with that in mind, I knew that Dusty was a lost cause at this point in time. It really wasn’t me…he’s just not ready to date and it is what it is.

So…that sucks