All cards on the table

So The Older Man is also a Recovering Alcoholic. Six years sober.

My immediate reaction was What else do you do on a first date besides get drinks? Which then made me reassess my idea of dating, my idea of getting to know someone, how I spend my time within social relationships. But also, that's a lot of baggage to bring to the table, so aren't I justified just a little?

I mean. I don't even know him. So this feels like a lot.

How convenient

How convenient.

I went to a show and the first person I saw happens to be good friends with The Ex, and I like this guy, I do, but I spent my night trying to be really neutral, just in case.

And then I met someone. He could be no one. But he kept looking at me and I kept noticing and finally I said something to him and he is interested. He is very interested. He is also eighteen years my senior. This is uncharted territory for me. Could I be interested in a man who graduated high school the same year I was born?

Time is up

It feels too soon to be having these kinds of problems. I don't want to call it anything with The Doctor, because that feels damn presumptuous, but I also can't keep having these clandestine meetings with The Ex. I need forward motion, progress, and spending time with The Ex is me living in a reality that does not exist. I can't juggle two men in this way, I could casually date a million guys but I can't line up The Ex and The Doctor against each other. It's not fair.

But then last night I didn't have anything good to say but I wanted to know The Ex was there and so I sent him a message that just said, "You," and he sent me a message that said, "You (it's who I think about all the time)." And now I'm re-defining the boundaries between us, the most recent rekindling of something that shouldn't be rekindled.

The Doctor asked me about him. And I handled it tragically. I was caught off guard and I botched pretending like it was all fine between us, that we're still good friends and all the things you're supposed to say about someone you used to love. The trouble is, I think it's obvious I still love him. Even though I know he isn't right. It's not easy to gloss over, it still feels too big to pare down to a tidy ending, when it was screaming and sobbing and the end of the life I had in Chicago and the beginning of a begrudging life back in Smalltown. But it's nearing a year. It's time to be packed into a neat package, it's time I was able to talk about it.

Shades of gray

We moved from the gray area of are we or aren't we interested to the gray area of are we or aren't we simply friends with benefits?

I left his house late last night simply because I had to be up early this morning, but also because I couldn't read him. Suddenly the pressure was on for me to stay or leave, and instead of pretending maybe we were something we are not, I left. However I got home and was happy to be so, I was happy to be in my bed on my time and not wondering what he was thinking, if I was overstaying my welcome.

I keep thinking he is a little boring but then I also can't stop thinking of him.

Time suck

I told The Ex I could waste no more time.

Then we talked it to death for over an hour. And I don't know. We just can't do it. We are opening up things that were long ago over and I can't bear to feel that kind of pain again. I can't bear it. I can't put myself in that vulnerable position and just hope for the best, hope that this nothing doesn't add up to me getting crushed. Again.

It's such a tantalizing feeling - being wanted and remembering how it felt to wake up next to him and being in love - but I'm not in love with him anymore despite how much I love him in a general sense. I told him that I can't keep doing this to myself, I'm not old but I'm not getting younger, I want a stable life, not one filled with big ideas and lofty goals, but one with an equal partnership and moving forward.

It feels like another slow tear in my still very compromised heart.

Rational thought

Oh wait a minute, so this is the difference.

I'm trying to "rationalize" my insane thoughts by reminding myself that if he wasn't a doctor I would not be so impressed. All day its been a constant replay of every inconsequential thing I said last night, everything I should have said instead, all the ways I misread the situation and took it for something it never was.

I'm being dramatic. I know.

But that's the difference. I can't rationalize it. It's the chemistry. It's what I could never talk myself into with Mr. R despite him being mostly perfect for me - the chemistry. I barely know The Doctor any longer but I'm having to talk myself off the ledge this morning because there is something about him I can't quite put my finger on.

I'm not going to shake him so easily. It might go nowhere but surely this won't be the end of my thinking it to death.

Night of reckoning

Here is the time of reckoning: I got home before 11 after a casual round of drinks with The Doctor and I'm left wondering how it really went.

I have no idea.

I was overdressed.

We made plans to see each other again later next week.

I got home at 10:30 on a Friday night.

I don't know what to make of it.

I forced my hair into coercion. That couldn't have been the problem.

I was a lunatic all day pondering the possibilities. I think we're both at the point in our lives where all our friends are getting married and settling down. Suddenly any encounter with a man feels loaded, any time I spend getting to know someone needs to feel like an investment to me. Suddenly I'm that woman. I've gone from the slutty version of myself to the self-aware-that-lends-itself-to-desperation version of myself?

I don't want to give him too much. We haven't seen each other in years and I'm reassessing it all. I don't like feeling vulnerable. I don't want to put myself out there to Someone New or in this case, Someone Who I Really Liked Before if it's not going anywhere. It just all becomes too much, I have a hard time seeing the bigger picture, I focus on the details that add up to me driving myself absolutely nuts with What If.

And here we are again.

Mountains out of molehills

Stop counting your eggs, Heartless.

Beginning of the end of something

Now I get why I only date bartenders.

Because it's easy. I don't have to have my shit together because they certainly don't.

I'm having a drink with The Doctor on Friday. I knew this would happen but suddenly I'm scared shitless. To be crude. He is a doctor. And I've been flailing for far too long. I'm working it out, I know I'm aware and making progress and doing things to better myself, but I just don't feel like a "good catch" right now. I'm no longer looking for meaningless sex and have moved on to looking for Something Meaningful. And I want to bring something to the table, to be self-sufficient and content with my life. I don't need a man to make me happy, but I eventually want a partner that will add to my happiness, and three years ago the only reason it didn't work with The Doctor was because it couldn't - we met mere months before he moved to the west coast and I moved to the midwest.

And now we're back in the same city indefinitely and it might just be a drink on Friday, but it might be some new chapter of something and it scares me, because if he has his shit together and I have my shit together, then it might just work.

Another one bites the dust

I just got over it.

The man I met a few weeks ago who I gave my number to - that one - I got over it. We kept missing each other, then when I made it clear I was available, he noncommittally said he might be free. And then I was over it. Enough with the indifferent men! No more getting involved with people who are only kinda interested, who I am only kinda interested in. I'm too old for this. I'm not looking for Prince Charming to sweep me off my feet but I am asking for a hint of chivalry.

I told him No hard feelings but no thanks.

Miscalculated

I saw The Ex just yesterday, making it the third time in a week, making it the countless time I've seen him in mere weeks despite my supposed indifference. Despite his toothbrush currently residing in my bathroom.

I sent him a silly e-mail today, a link to something he would laugh at. Then hours later, upon forgetting about the e-mail, a quick text.

He never responded to either.

And what do I expect? Something different from this hopeless, self-absorbed, unreliable man?

Now I'm just playing a fool. That toothbrush was not a calculated move on his part, it's just part of the bigger picture with him, it speaks to his inability to live on solid ground.

Somehow this happened

I came home from work, took off my jewelry, washed my face, and was horrified to find this.

His & hers toothbrushes.

This has gone too far.

Kissing Doesn't Kill: Greed and Indifference Do

I just got home from a jazz/drinks thing with Mr. R. I thought it would be okay. And okay, it was. We met and talked and got along and traded stories and didn't touch and I thought it would be okay, this shift from us being Something to Nothing More Than Friends.

Until he walked me to my car (first red flag), hugged me twice (I stayed far from his lips), and left. I got into my car, started the engine and breathed a sigh of relief, looked in my rearview mirror before reversing and there he was, walking back, and then I was rolling down my window and without a word he was kissing me.

And then he was gone again.

And while I applaud his boldness, while I am quite impressed with his technique, truth be told, I'm just not that into him.

And I suddenly fear he thinks I am his Dream Girl.

I'm not! Trust me, I'm not!

And now I'm home with a voicemail on my phone from the guy from last week who I still haven't seen and thinking how empty my house feels without The Ex here with me, even though I don't want him but at night in my big empty house I feel lonely and my thoughts wander to him. I don't like this pattern, this kissing three men in a span of just over a week. I don't like it. I am a grown woman. I am not the girl I was when I started this blog, and I know kissing doesn't kill but dammit I can't keep them in order if I'm kissing this many.

Fork in the road

I'm very conflicted. The Ex wants to have a sexy rendezvous and I'm just sort of...over it. But this is good news, right? The sex with The Ex has confirmed all the broken parts and my good new life and now I want no part of it. This sex has been the best closure I could ever ask for.

And I still haven't seen this new guy who all my online stalking proves to seem better and better. But some men are great on Google searches and not so great in real life. So hopefully, dear friends, this week will solve the mystery of this new man and if he is worth getting to know outside of kissing on the street after midnight.

And The Doctor is back in the picture as of next week. He's reminded me of the day he'll be back in town at least four times in the last couple months and I can't tell if he's just forgetful or if he really wants me to remember. I'm going to flatter myself and lean towards the latter.

Week from hell and the lessons learned

Of course.

Monday became a family nightmare and in the midst of it The Man Who I Wanted To Call did.

And The Ex has not been on my mind. I'm supposed to see him in a few days but I just don't need him anymore. I've been having a terrible week filled with things out of my control and it didn't occur to me to turn to him.

He's there. But it's not the same.

Waiting

I can't tell if it's my need to relinquish bad habits or if maybe I actually like this man who I gave my number to and then kissed goodnight.

I'm 24 hours in and compulsively checking my phone to see if he called.