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Holding on to nothing

October 3, 2011 By ANONYMOUS 1 Comment

Why did I choose you?  Was there something in the way you ignore me that makes me want you more?

Is it the hurt that I crave? Am I so desperate to feel, that I am willing to take your punch in my heart.

I keep coming back and you welcome me in. Like a sticky web of the long arms and legged spider calling me in and trapping me in your tangled mess. The game you play, do you know you are playing it? Do you know I am caught into it? Of course you do, and you enjoy it, laughing inside at how I crave you.  Feeling the rush of knowing I can’t stay away all the while knowing how weak you really are, knowing, you are not deserving of my affections, hurting your own life by dangling me in your heart, frustrated that I reside in there.  Cancel me out, blow it out of your mind, the way I smell and the way I touch you. No…you can’t…because it is my sinister desire to own you like you own me…..try it again, I know you have tried……pull away and see how long you can go….can you forget me while the hint of my skin continues to haunt you…..?

 

Filed Under: Confession, Dating Tagged With: , , , , , , ,

He fascinates me.

March 10, 2011 By ANONYMOUS 3 Comments

imageHe fascinates me, and yet I never want to talk to him again. He’s absolutely beautiful. Like an angel: perfectly sculptured, perfect smile, perfect blue eyes, perfect hair, perfect smell, and yes, he’s well-endowed. All that’s missing is the halo and wings. I met him when I was 16, he was just a year or two older than me, and I fell in love. Hard. I was instantly addicted to him. He’d just come out of a long relationship, with a very public breakup. I was supposed to be his rebound. I knew it. I took one look at him and didn’t care. He was gorgeous and way out of my league. The rebound turned into two years. We saw each other 3 or 4 nights a week for those two years. He kept odd hours, so I snuck out to see him. We texted or IM’d almost every day, and on days when he’d had too much of me, he would ignore me. Those days were the worst. I would send a quick “hi” and get no response. Checking my phone or my computer every 2 minutes to make sure I hadn’t missed a response. I was sure he was mad at me for something I said or did. I was always eager to apologize, please, beg for forgiveness for something I wasn’t sure I had even done. Two years of 3 or 4 nights a week and I wasn’t considered a “significant other”. Neither of us dated or slept with anyone else. Every three months or so, I begged to be more than just… what we were. (One time, I wrote a 7-page letter! Angry, hurt, disappointed, ashamed, neglected, and loving – all in the same letter.) All it did was push him away for a week or so. He’d come back saying “stop being so dramatic”. The relationship (if you could call it that) wasn’t purely sexual. We had deep theological discussions, watched movies, discussed the movie, listened to intense rock or classical music and explained what we each saw when listening to each song. It was a routine that we each fell into, both expecting everything and each expecting nothing.

We stopped seeing each other for two years before we talked again.

The intensity of what was missing was… intense. We both confessed that we had missed each other, but weren’t able and willing to make the relationship public. We started seeing each other again, once a week. The first time we got together after the lapse was passionate. Like we were teenagers all over again. We went back to texting and IM’ing almost every day, but the same problem arose: on days when he’d had too much of me, he would ignore me, except it lasted for 3 or 4 days. Since everything had been heightened, those days seemed to last forever. I completely withdrew. From family, from work, from friends, and from Facebook. It was like I fell off the face of the earth. I would send a quick “hi” and get no response. I would check my phone or my computer every 2 minutes to make sure I hadn’t missed a reply. Then he would come back, say a quick “sorry, was busy” and life would pick up again. Four or five months later, I stopped the relationship, but kept partial contact with him.

I was recently told that this relationship was technically an abusive relationship. I’ve attempted to cut him out of my life, but a huge gaping hole remains when I do. A part of “this is who I really am” is missing. I know that he attempts to “control” me, whether subconsciously or not.
Part of me doesn’t care, because he is so beautiful and his words are so amazing.
Part of me knows it’s not healthy or fair to either party to continue to speak with him.
Part of me just wants to give in and feel good when I’m with him.
Part of me wishes I could stop obsessing over him.
Part of me wants the will to never speak to him again.

So, like I said: He fascinates me and yet I never want to talk to him again.

Filed Under: Confession, Dating

Dealbreaker.

February 22, 2011 By ANONYMOUS 4 Comments

imageA bit of background: My age is between 37 and 49.  Divorced for a while, mother to a couple kids.  Dating has been…shall we say, interesting?  I have yet to find Mr. Right, but have found plenty of Mr. Wrongs along the way. 

Let me preface this with the factoid that yes, I’m not perfect.  Dating me has to be excruciating.  I put my kids first, my girlfriends a close second and my "me" time is limited.  Add to that my painful insecurities,my penchant for chewing gum during all waking hours and the fact that it’s lights off, all the time, and I’m not exactly the catch o’ the day.  But I’m here today to talk about dealbreakers that I have stumbled upon during my brief foray into the middle-aged dating scene.

The first dealbreaker is smoking.  I hate it.  I used to smoke like a chimney before kids, and to this day I will sometimes bum a drag or six off a friend when we’re out carousing.  But to think of lighting up while stone sober, in the light of day, and smoke a whole cigarette makes me gag.  The thought of kissing someone who does it?  Puke.  That’s a dealbreaker for me.

Second dealbreaker is a tightwad.  No, income has NOTHING to do with this one.  A guy can be poor as dirt and still be a catch.  It’s the ones who never pick up a check, who leave pennies as tips, who wince when you mention seeing a movie or going out to dinner at a place that doesn’t have a coupon in his Happenings book.  I’ve dated wealthy guys, poor guys and everyone in between.  And only one tightwad.  That was a dealbreaker.

Third dealbreaker is impotence.  Yep, I’ve dealt with this one.  It was heartbreaking too, since he and I had a very clear mind-meld.  I will never forget "the night".  It was our third date and I was sure that we were going to seal the deal.  I called a girlfriend and said, "Keep your fingers crossed that he’s well equipped!".  Things were progressing nicely, until I noticed an umm..lack of interest on his "part".  I asked him what the deal was.  "Turn on the light.  There’s something I need to tell you."  I won’t go into the long and sad story behind the case of the flaccid fellow, just that it wasn’t ever going to work without medical intervention.  Out of curiosity, I asked him why not do whatever possible to get that thing working again?  He said it wasn’t that big of a deal to him.  "We can take things slow" he said to me.  By this time, the light was off so he couldn’t see me roll my eyes.  Major dealbreaker.

Quite frankly, this particular dealbreaker was a tough one.  To find someone with whom you have a mental connection is rare.  But just as my brain needs stimulation, so do parts down yonder.  And yes, I know…sex isn’t all about the penetration.  But all foreplay and no big bang?  That’s like only ordering appetizers.  Eventually you’re going to want the full meal. 

I did give the last dealbreaker another chance. I don’t know if I did it out of loneliness, boredom or just to check back and make sure all was still quiet on the southern front. 

We had a dinner date recently, and while we were eating, he was silent as I chatted away about nothing in particular.  "Why aren’t you talking?" I asked him.  "I prefer to not talk while I eat"  he answered.  I had been shushed.

Now that was a dealbreaker.

Filed Under: Dating