The other night I was talking to one of my closest guy friends (I’ll do a post on him another day, because that’s a good story), and I was telling him about a customer who was hitting on me (it happens quite a bit, but usually they’re in their 60s or older).
As I was talking to him, I mentioned that this particular customer was not “the dream” so he asked me what was the dream, and it took me a few minutes to gather, but this is what I came up with:
- Someone who’s an old soul like me
- Someone who would rather binge breaking bad or the office for the tenth time than go out
- Someone who can be silly
- Traveller, gypsy soul
- Board game lover
- Someone who enjoys reading
- Someone who won’t bullshit me
- Baseball fan
Not a huge list of requests (although as someone who’s been single for about a year, maybe I need to cut it back?) but I realized three things.
First, I realized that of all those things that I genuinely care about, my ex only checks two of those, sometimes three. And that’s a big deal to me to really see he is not my match anymore.
Secondly, I want someone with similar interests of mine. In all my relationships I’ve never had much in common with my boyfriends. Which is great because I get to learn new things about things they love, but it seems like they’re never willing to do the same.
Thirdly, and this will bring me into my next big post, the guy that I’ve told this too, pretty well hits all the boxes. And that’s so strange, because when we first started talking I never expected an actual friendship out of it, let alone potentially having emotions towards him.
Life is fucking weird.
He got what he wanted and now he’s over it.
I get it.
It can’t be anything. The distance. Trust me, I get it.
But you weren’t supposed to be the same as all the rest.
You’re not supposed to be over it. Not this soon after getting what you wanted.
But I get it now.
I just so badly wanted you to be different.
Guys, I don’t get it.
It’s come to my attention, while chatting with one of my closest friends that maybe I’m into people who are unavailable.
And not necessarily in a “home-wrecking” sense, before anyone gets their gitch in a knot.
I’m into people who are physically unavailable. Maybe they live in Texas. I’m into people who are emotionally unavailable. Maybe they are dating someone. I’m into people who are mentally unavailable. Maybe they just lost a loved one.
And I’m trying to dicipher why this is. And my only explanation is this: I’m not ready to date anyone. So I find comfort in people who aren’t in any position to date me either. We can build this beautiful base of friendship, but it realistically can’t blossom into anything more than that. Not right away anyway.
This theory conflicts me. Because that means that even after being single for nearly a year, I know I’m still not ready for a new relationship. But that’s also really good that I can recognize that. The old me would have jumped into a rebound and been miserable again.
So cheers to me for knowing what I’m ready for. Or rather, what I’m not ready for.
Guys. I fucked up.
I broke the number one rule.
Maybe not in the order that I wrote them, but the most important rule of any non-realistic relationship.
I caught feels. Big time.
So. Since I went to Texas, I’ve been chatting with a guy I met there through mutual friends. He was incredibly sexy, but I was way too shy to make a move. At one point he was in the bathroom with me (Texas showers are confusing, okay?) And we were talking, and guys, the sexual tension: out of this world. I have never wanted to kiss someone so badly. Which says a lot considering I hate kissing. Anyway, there was no kiss. And we spent another night together but I left without any Texas BBQ if you know what I mean.
So fast forward three months. We talk daily. And he makes me so happy. And he recently went to visit family close to the border and I begged him to sneak away for the day so we could hang out. And he did.
I’m not joking when I say it was the best date I’ve ever been on. It’s been a week and I still can’t stop smiling about him and our day. I still think about how his hand felt in mine. How he twirled me around in the casino. How he joked about us spending our life savings on slot machines. Our first kiss, soft and slow, and how as the day progressed they got deeper, more passionate, as if trying to turn one kiss into a million.
Guys. I fucking cried when I left. Me. The one who claims she doesn’t feel anything.
I caught the feels bad.