How The Blog Died

"You talk too much," were the exact words of the only man to break up with me, ever, for a reason other than geographical distance.  So I listened.

Of course there was subtext behind the remark that we both implicitly understood but is impossible to explain in words.  I had my own reservations and there were several reasons why I don't think a relationship would have worked out, but my lack of emotional control- or talking too much- should never have been on the list.  I have a strong sense of self and my core values, and emotional carelessness is not one of them.

We slept together once after we broke up before he moved on and found another woman who, I can say with genuine happiness for him, seems like a great fit.  It was in that last night I spent with him that things came full circle.

"I'm wondering if you think that my talking too much has to do with my exboyfriend lying to me and my paranoia about lying to a partner," I asked him.

"Yes," he responded.  "It's like you get nervous and you feel like everything has to be said."

And with his affirmation of my realization, I shut the fuck up about dating.

I started this blog a year and a half ago to share the ridiculousness of dating with my friends and the online world, but also as tool to process my feelings about dating after a bad, bad breakup. But it's been two years since that relationship ended and almost as long since I've been dating a lot, and I don't need to process any more.  I still have awkward moments.  I still make bad decisions.  I still want to scream and cry and laugh at the same time as I go on horrible dates.  I just don't need to process it verbally. 

The blog is ending, but I will continue the same shenanigans looking for love.  I am ever hopeful.









 

Ugh

I'm back to internet dating, which feels like a neverending chore.  I've been doing it for two years with no real successes- unless you count sex on the second date with a guy you never talk to again as success, which I don't.  I still do it because it's another avenue to meet people.  I'm social and make an effort to find dates in real life, but the internet has the allure of encountering someone who otherwise would never come across my path.  I have several friends who met live-in boyfriends or husbands online. It can work.

I psych myself up for meeting someone incredible, and then I read the profiles and want to cry.

There is lostinmordor who says "In case the name isn't a dead giveaway, I'm a classic nerd, hoping to meet others of my kind."

31pissedoff spends the first paragraph of his online profile explaining how his wife took his children and left him and how every day when he comes home from work, he wishes he was returning to his family.  I guess I'd be pissed off too.

BarbarianGeek lists Jurassic Park as one of his favorite movies.

And then there is ratherWASPy who, as anyone who has ever heard me talk about dating knows, is NOT my type.

We also have UW2005, apparently having had such a good experience at University of Washington undergrad eight years ago that he wanted to include it in his screen name.

And Magnetic_Heart and City_Adventure.  If you have to use your screen name to show you're caring or adventurous, you're probably not.



 

Speaking of Distractions

Remember the man who I slept with in July who called me after seven months of no communication to ask if he could give my contact information to his friend studying to be a nurse?

After that initial phone call, he asked me to hang out a few days later.  I couldn't that night, but I appreciated the effort.  I thought he was a cool guy and while he made it clear that he wasn't interested in dating, I am always open to making new friends and building connections.  We tried to make plans for another evening, but they fell through.  Several weeks passed and I had a free evening, so I asked him if he wanted to catch up.

He suggested that we watch a movie at his place, which I thought was a little date-y for a man who specifically told me he did not want to date me, but I went with the suggestion.  I showed up and was shocked when I saw him.   He started a vegan diet about five months ago, lost at least twenty to thirty pounds, and DAMN he looked good.  I told him so.  He said the same about me.

We watched a movie together sitting on our own separate sections of his couch.  I was having a good time and didn't feel like it was awkward at all until his arm came around my side and pulled me in to cuddle.  I figured that cuddling never hurt anyone.  Isn't that what all men in their twenties want?  Just to cuddle with a woman?  I could do that.

He laid down on his couch and brought me with him so we were spooning watching the movie, his hand caressing my abdomen.  Maybe he just wants the reassurance of physical contact?  The intimacy of touch?  My mind was racing trying to justify the actions of a man who told me he wasn't interested after our last encounter.  He started kissing my neck and earlobe and then it hit me:  Men in their twenties do not just want to cuddle.  They want sex.

I turned around to face him and said I was confused.  "You told me that you didn't want to see me again after we went out last time, and now you're kissing me.  Has it just been a really long time since you had sex?"

He laughed.  "No R______, I never told you I didn't want to see you again.  I told you I didn't want to DATE you.  But I didn't want to date anyone at that point in my life...  And I don't have anything against interracial dating in general, but I don't want to date White women."

He is Black.  Everyone has a dealbreaker.

It would have been reasonable for me to be offended, having just been told that my race and gender make me good enough for fucking but undateable.  But I respond well to honesty, so instead of saying "That's really sexist and I can't believe that you have a master's degree in social work but you think it's okay to objectify women for your own sexual gratification," I hooked up with him instead.

In the end, I offered to set him up with my non-White friend who I think he would get along with.  He returned the favor and said he knows a single man I might want to meet.

We're looking out for each other.

Back to the Drawing Board

As I regroup and sort through my OkCupid matches, I fall back to thinking about my serious boyfriends and how they shaped the qualities that I am looking for.  My dating choices have long perplexed my friends because on the surface, I don't seem to have a "type."

Three times I have been in love.

#1 is White, Jewish, 31 years old, raised by a single dad, lives in Germany, is working on a PhD, and is brilliant as fuck.

#2 is Latino, Catholic, 29 years old, raised by a single mom, lives in Guatemala, dropped out of college to become a priest, then dropped out of the priesthood to work in business and not be celibate.

#3 is Black, Baptist, 27 years old, raised by married parents, lives in America, went to college for one quarter, joined the military, served in Iraq, and then became a medical assistant.

So what do they all have in common, besides me?

They were all fun, up for anything at any moment, could have an equally good time camping under the stars as tearing up the dance floor. 

They were all easy-going, patient, difficult to anger. 

They were all good listeners with open minds.

They all made me want to be a better person.

It is this last commonality that I focus on most because when I'm in love, I'm inspired to live ethically.  If a man doesn't challenge me to improve, the relationship isn't worth it.

So back to square one with some clarity and focus- until another distraction comes along.





 

This is What Closure Looks Like

We met to break up in person at a coffee shop and smiled at each other the entire time.  It felt more like a date than a breakup, which made me question again why we were not dating, even though I implicitly knew the answer.

"In short, you talk too much," is what he said.  "But you should keep it like that.  That's who you are and it's great."

I tried to argue but then realized I was talking too much.

I subscribe to a dating truism that the core of someone's character comes out during a breakup.  How do they handle conflict?  Hurting another person?  Making plans for a future friendship or lackthereof?

And if two people can sit down over coffee, thank each other for a good time, laugh at our dating personalities, consent to possible booty calls in the future, and agree to look out for potential matches for the other person, I would say both he and myself passed the character test with flying colors.

Moving on to potential first date #38.

A Seattle Girl's Guide to Getting Over A Text Message Breakup

I will always be thankful to my exboyfriend (and last serious relationship two years ago) for ending things in the worst way possible.  When the person you are in love with is tagged as someone else's boyfriend in a Facebook photo, all subsequent breakups seem inconsequential.  Granted, comparing love that ends in a swirl of lies to feelings after dating someone for five weeks is not exactly fair, but this time around I'm eating, I'm sleeping, and I'm not popping Vicodin or thinking about driving my car off a cliff into the river.  Hell yeah, this girl's got coping mechanisms!

My process for healing myself:

1)  Take a pregnancy test.  If it is negative, repeat every week until I get my period.  If it is positive,- thank God that has never happened.

2)  Run.  Run fast.  Run the fuck out of the pavement.  Run past the sweat, the breathlessness, the pain in my legs.  Run until I feel strong again and then keep running until I feel stronger.  Run knowing that I could outrun in distance every man I've ever dated.  Tell myself that my ability to run is a clear indicator of my superiority.

3)  Ask for support.  The first boy I kissed, my oldest friend since we were five years old, my best friend from college, my two single girlfriends in Seattle- they all delivered with phone calls, cheer-up text messages, and warmth so deep it reminded me that I can be romantically single and still have love.

4)  Get back in the game immediately.  If the opportunity to have sex presents itself, do it.  When the next guy I sleep with doesn't want to see me again, it will be a welcome distraction from the one who came before him.  The cycle has to continue until the right person comes along, and then it will stop.

Coping takes practice and skill.  I get better at it every time.

 

The Text Message Breakup

We live in a virtual dating world where phone calls and face-to-face communication are often obsolete.  Who wants to risk the fear of rejection by calling a woman and having a conversation?  Better to send a text or email and see if she responds.  Written answers are carefully thought out with the goal of sparing feelings; if no one sees or hears the disappointment of the other party, it never existed.  This is how we keep things laidback in an increasingly casual dating society.

Which is why, on my fifth date with this man, I made a request:  "When you want to stop seeing me, please send me a text message and let me know."  I don't need to endure a silent dinner or an awkward morning in bed to be told in person that things aren't working out.  At this stage in the game, drama-free is what I'm looking for. 

Let me preface this with saying that I always knew this man would end things with me.  I saw the signs that a serious relationship was not in the cards, but I am a single woman who has had about three or four decent dates in the last two years, so I will ride out the chemistry when I find it.  Do I care that we have different visions for our futures and opposing communication styles?  Yes.  Do I care enough to stop having great sex and occasional companionship?  Ha.

So when I received a text message saying it was over, I was not surprised.  Sad to lose opportunities for intimacy, disappointed to put an end to the best series of dates I've had in WAY too long, hurt that he wasn't interested enough to look past the obvious deficiencies we had, but not surprised at all.  My exboyfriends who read this blog will be shocked to know I didn't even cry.

I got to process it on my own time.  There were no accusations or screaming.  He did not shake me like a rag doll.  I didn't have to pretend to look or feel a certain way.  It was the perfect breakup, except for one thing:  I wanted to talk about it in person.

He said that would be fine but "Let's keep it short and try to avoid beating this into the ground."

I was annoyed with his curtness until I realized that with one sentence, he perfectly summed up exactly why this didn't work out.  I need more compassion in my men.  He needs more emotional restraint in his women.

But hey, I will take fun and failure in dating any day over boredom.