30 Dates

I've been issued a challenge, 30 dates or better put, going out on a date once a week. Shouldn't be hard...but then again, dating is total bullshit.

For instance, I once went out on a date with a dude who was hella funny, smart, well read, educated, well spoken, interesting, mad cooking skills and not only did he love beer but KNEW way more about beer than me. Rare find. However, he also kept a bandanna in his back pocket to blow his nose. I don't know, something about that bandanna just screamed 'old dude' to me. After that, I couldn't picture myself naked with him in the same room. But that's just me. This dude gets hella ass. Like ass for days.

There is no rhyme or reason for makes me pop or lose a boner. It simply is what it is. Nor is anyone really safe from me losing my boner once they're with me. I was once dating this dude for a while that I was kinda into, like I saw him daily and had a drawer in my house for him into kind of way. But all that went up in flames when he decided to through a temper tantrum and literally STOMPED away from me and our group of friends in a public area. After he bitched out like a crazy chick covered in pink glitter, I couldn't get it up for him. Hard to get in the mood with a dude when all you can picture is THIS grown ass man stomping away like a little bitch baby without saying a word. Talk about being dick downed but in all the wrong ways.

When dating, you don't know you've stepped in shit until, well, in most cases, you're a drink and a half in and dinner's been ordered. At my age, you're used to it. You're even used to stepping in shit well after the dating has ended and a relationship has started. But to go out on a date knowing you're inevitably going to step in shit, eh...what's the point? While I'm all about taking my new challenge by the legs are fucking the shit out of it. I don't know if I can fully commit to just going out with any dude that asks me out, just for the sake of working my way through the dirty thirty.

I mean, I get the drill. The more I date increases the chance of finding a dude I can stand still with. Having a set frequency is going to force me out of my comfort zone and make me accept dates from men I typically wouldn't. Which in turn, will open up my playing field. I get it. I'm not a complete retard. But to accept a date from a dude that doesn't drink....???? Meeeeh, fuck that shit. I firmly believe, if you don't drink, then we have nothing in common. I drink daily. For work, with friends, with my cats and even alone. So what's the point of meeting the dude and possibly liking him if I can't play a round of golf and drink a beer? What about beer festivals, Oktoberfest, St. Patrick's Day, New Year's Eve, Cinco de Mayo, Opening Day, Thursdays...or for fuck's sake, what about my favorite past time of chasing rare brews??? What would we do when we're watching the game together....?!?! Too much going already and I haven't had the chance to flash him a little cleavage.

Stepping in shit is a given. It happens. But to willingly step in shit....??? Yeah, no thanks. While I would hate to fail my first week...I think I'd hate it even more if I had to fail sober. Besides, who knows, a lot can happen over the next day or two. A blind squirrel has been know to find her nut every once in a while.

Peace, Love & Baseball,

Maybe

So. Maybe I was wrong. I honestly, truly believed that I wouldn't hear from Lullabies again.

But baseball...ugh, he gets me with baseball every single time. Fuck me.

But the facts still remain, I still feel don't feel anxious. I still wasn't excited to see his number pop up on my phone. He hasn't responded and unlike before, I don't care. I'm not checking my phone every five minutes...ok, seconds, every five seconds to see if he's responded. I'm not anticipating what he'll say next so I can come back with something equally clever. I'm not hoping our discussion about baseball will eventually lead to him asking me out. But fuuuuuck! I was just so caught up in being right about baseball, yet AGAIN, that it wasn't until after I hit 'send' that I felt a sense of regret creeping over me. Regret of the possibility of letting him open that big ol fucking can of bullshit he always seems to have.

But maybe, just maybe this wasn't a cheap ploy to get me to talk to him. Maybe this is the start to that whole Batman movie line about smiling at each other from across the room friendship thing I've been wanting. Maybe. Who knows. Perhaps my newly found sense of peace that he had finally let me go, is really just my peace of mind. Peace of mind that no matter what he throws my way, I will never again fall for him or his devil penis magic. 

Peace, Love & Baseball,

Privileged

For the longest time I was sad, bitter, angry, anxious and disappointed about things ending with Lullabies. I went from never believing in true love, to finding my soulmate, to realizing that I would have to let him go, within such a short period of time. I wish it would have lasted just a little longer.

But I'm not bitter anymore. I'm glad he loved me and thankful he taught me that I can be loved exactly as I am.

And with that, I'm no longer anxious. Suddenly out of nowhere, the anxiety I had with last week's text, lifted.  Letting him go was hard, it was even harder to do when he wouldn't let me go. But somehow I know, that he has.

While things between he and I didn't work out the way I would have liked them to have, I still believe that it all worked out exactly how it needed to. So for that, I will forever be grateful for the change he made in me. And so now my little black heart is just a little bit bigger and a little less black. Thank you Lullabies, I will always love you.

Peace, Love & Baseball,

Enough

I don't give a fuck what anyone says, I know Lullabies was the dude made for me. As gay as it sounds, it's like we have tethered souls or something equally gay as that. It's like this, I always know when that dude is thinking of me, looking for an excuse to talk to me. I can always just feel 'it'. Everyone laughs at me, dismisses me and tells me I'm crazy but then...BAM! Incoming text. Every. Single Time. It's like a discount Walmart version of Spidey Sense...you know, the whole 'with great power comes great responsibility' thing but more like, 'with great power comes a great big sack of bullshit'...who needs that?!? Obviously, I do...because life is a funny little bitch who likes giving it to me in the ass any chance she gets.

I had always said that I never wanted to live in a world where Lullabies existed and we weren't, at the very least, friends. But things change and people rearrange. I read an article today that said, "If two past lovers can remain friends, either they never were in love or they still are" I don't know where he and I lie. Maybe somewhere in between the two but what I do know is, that we can't be friends. In fact, I don't want him as a friend. He's a shitty fucking friend. While I love him and I always will, I just know that I'm tired of him and his bullshit. So when he texted me this past weekend, I wasn't surprised. However, unlike before, I didn't feel giddy when I saw his text pop up. I wanted to respond but not like I have in the past with a cute inside joke or some other witty remark. More than anything, I just wanted to tell him that he was a shitty friend and that there just wasn't any sense in texting me anymore. But I couldn't do that either. To me, it felt like telling him anything along those lines wouldn't be any type of fun and it would make me seem like...I don't know...manipulative? Desperate? Crazy ex-girlfriendish? Whatever. But on the other hand, I felt like ignoring him would come across as a game. Bitches always say, "Silence speaks volumes'. But I don't have volumes to say and I never want to be a bitch to his asshole. I just want him to figure his shit out, leave me out of the equation and if our paths ever cross again one day, I want that whole Batman movie line about smiling at each other from across the room thing. So while I was going back and forth over what to do, I had a revelation: I. Don't. Give. A. Fuck. Anymore. Yeah, it was weird how it hit me. To love someone with every fiber of my being, to know that this man was made for me but to still not give a fuck what he thinks or feels...totally surreal. So I decided on not texting him back. Why say anything? Or give a fuck how he interprets my silence when the bottom line is, I don't fucking care anymore. I never thought I'd be here but thankfully, I am. Now I can move the fuck on. FINALLY.

The thing is, the 'it' feeling hasn't gone away yet. So while I say that I don't care, I can't help but to wonder what his next move is and more importantly, what mine will be.

Peace, Love & Baseball,

 

"We were so in love and we had so much fun. It was fucking brilliant, our time together."

If Ever.....

Lullabies

Dear Lullabies,

Have you ever noticed how things seem to always happen in threes? Death, being a lady, charm, little pigs, wise men, laws of motions, suits...not even Beetlejuice is safe from the law of three. And for me, at least it seems, that things always happen in threes especially when it comes to revelations about shit I would rather avoid. I had a 'three moment' revelation this past weekend about you. 

First there was Bourbon Street. Then there was an unpleasant but not surprising text about you. And lastly, a really interesting interview about Chris Offutt I caught on NPR that all kinda aligned and made me realize that, well, I love you. And not in the 'you will always have a special place in my heart' kind of way but the inconvenient, unfortunate, gut wrenching, soul changing, makes me say gay things, turns me into a chick, kind of way that misses sitting next to you while you play video games. The kind that's cool with you needing downtime to regroup. The kind who finds your stupid goofy ugly Christmas sweaters kinda sexy. The kind that considers the annoying things about you just charming little quirks...even when its you being moody as all hell and inpatient as all fuck. The kind that would rather do absolutely nothing with you than anything else with anyone else in the whole world. You know the kind that even when you think you're at your worst, I still see you as the very best. I thought I could come back around, keep you at arms length and casually have sex with you and not feel a thing. But who am I kidding? You're undeniably, irrevocably the exception to all of my rules. You feel like home to me. Even when we don't talk or see each other, it's never weird. Never awkward. You're always familiar. Even when I do the unthinkable with you and cuddle, it just all seems to fit. We seem to fit. I guess if I'm honest with myself, I thought I could do the whole casual sex thing because I was trying to convince myself that some of you was better than none of you. But that's not me. It's not how anyone as awesome as I am should ever think...but I've never been here before. This was all new to me.  

I've dated a lot of guys. And like I've said before, I always thought my life was always going to be a series of affairs that suited my life for that moment in time. Nothing ever really lasting. Nothing ever really meaningful. But then out of nowhere it all changed when I met you. There is no one else on this earth that I can spend snowed in with and NOT want to murder. There is no one that can make me laugh the way you do. There is no one that gets me the way you do. I have never had so much fun having sex and laughing like I do with you...and that has turned me out the way you have. I've never clicked sexually with anyone like I do with you. Relationships aren't supposed to be hard, it's supposed to be like being with your best friend that you want to fuck all the time. You're my best friend that I want to fuck all the time. Literally. 

I hold chairs and serve on two different boards. I slay dragons for a minimum of 50 hours a week. I'm raising two men by myself. I have time consuming hobbies like golf, craft beer and binge watching TV in my underwear. I also have an awesome group of friends and family who like going on adventures and making memories. I know I already have a pretty awesome yet demanding life but I'm tired of dating. I'm ready to be with someone who wants what I want...to be single but together.  

I know I'm all over the place. I know I'm not being very eloquent but I think it's only because I am trying not to say the thing that I need to say the most. So I'm going to stop the rambling and just say it, is this all we are ever going to be? The occasional late night glass of scotch over sex until you find someone you think is better than me? Because if this is it, I'd really like to know. I met a really nice guy. I love you the most but if this is all I am ever going to be to you, then I don't want to not give this guy a fair chance because I'm holding out hope for you. I understand that there is a very good chance that this is all I am ever going to be to you but I can't lie to myself anymore and deny what I feel for you. I know I'm not perfect. I drink a little too much, work a little too much, can be a little too loud, I have a tendency to be selfish with my time, leave my shoes laying around, I snore, I send multiple texts to a single thought instead of one big one and that I get high at night to settle my mind so I can sleep but the important shit? I have. You won't find anyone better for you than me. I see you. I get you. But mostly importantly, I want to be with you. 

Peace, Love & Baseball,