Sunday, October 27, 2019

The Work is to be Grateful

"Dude, I am the absolute epitome of sexual frustration.  Plus I really miss you." She text Nameless.  She knew it was a little risky to expose that she felt literally anything for him.

"Hahahaha...I mean I am sorry."  Was his reply.  He said he was sure she was still playing the field  She countered with her tale about The Final Straw and how she deleted the dating apps.  He said it was few and far between on his dating scene as well, but it was a strange conversation.  Because they took so much time in-between talking she didn't think anything of it and moved along with her life.

A month or so later he was coming into town, but said he'd be available later in the evening.  She said that she would make dinner plans and just wait for his text.  He texted that he'd have to cancel and would explain later.  He drunk texted "I was not expecting this" and then didn't text her back for 14 days.

"The main reason I bailed was because I had had a date.  I thought it the best thing since I didn't trust myself to just 'hang out' with you (I am a guy and all).  I was out late with a handful of professors and got drunk...I even drunk texted you, sorry."

"So then why did you even tell me you were coming into town? Just wondering." She replied.  She was almost happy she was out with her ex and his best friend and highly distracted from the conversation where she was losing her beneficial situationship.

"I made plans with you before I even met her.  It was only the day before I left that we confirmed a second date.  It all happened kinda qick.  Next I was up there and realized I needed to cancel...like I said said, sorry."

"Dude, we aren't exclusive.  You don't have to be sorry, just be a bit more open and honest would be nice.  So did you end up seeing her?"

He fumbled through multiple messages: "Not sorry for that..fuck I know that...sorry for last minute canceling.  And yeah I've seen her a few times now.  I actually meant to talk to you later that week about it.  Didn't want to jinx it...you know.  But I've been busy with work, this new experiment is a shit show.  I have to play captain save a hoe and fix it.  And I kinda have...a little."

She stopped responding for the night, she was distracted by the conversation she was having in front of her.  It was still emotionally difficult to be with her ex.

When she got home she re-read the messages and started to cry.  It was the dishonesty and leaving her on read that really upset her.  KSL listened to her bitch and get upset while he busied himself in the kitchen.

The next morning she sent the text "Sorry I was out with friends last night so I didn't give this my full attention.  It's been fun, and I hope it works out with your experiment and this girl."

He never texted back.

She started on a bit of a man-hating spiral.  The only male influence she got on a regular basis was her ex, who gave her puppy dog eyes of hurt every time they spent time together, and KSL was so down on himself about never being in a relationship again that she was starting to think every man was like this.

Think, no, believe every man was like this.  All those romance novels, the movies, the real life relationships she saw...it was all bullshit.  KSL was right.  It was never going to happen because it didn't actually exist.  It was a lie she thought was going to happen.

She was getting into some serious man hating when she stumbled upon a New York Times Modern Love article.  "I'm not sure if we fall in love with people, or if we fall in love with the way they make us feel."

This gave her pause.  This wasn't really about Nameless at all.  In fact, the reality was as a demisexual and an empath she was indeed just addicted to the way people made her feel.

The article continued:

"It's about honoring what happened.  You met a person who awoke something in you.  A fire ignited.  The work is to be grateful.  Grateful every day that someone crossed your path and left a mark on you."

She decided to do the work.

She remembered how funny it was that he had come back around in a way that she managed to go out on a date with him without knowing his name.  She remembered how great their conversations were.  He would take her out to nice dinner and let her rage about how the local theatre system was broken, and the steps that needed to be taken to fix it.  He would listen, really listen.  He knew when she was being serious and when she was being funny, and walked alongside it effortlessly.  He didn't pull away from her whenever she got closer to him.  He read her in a way that no one else had for a long time, while still being himself.  Their balance had been perfect.  Why let the end sour all that?

She thought back, not to their sex or intimacies, but to a small moment when they had exited a bar to move on to a more quiet run, and just walked along in a comfortable silence in the rain, hand in hand.

Tuesday, August 20, 2019

The Last Straw

For the first time in a long time she'd actually gotten a sweet message on the dating app.  Their conversation had been good, but scheduling conflicts prevented them from meeting for a couple of weeks.

They were too alike, and too nice, and kept coming up against dancing around the issue of dating.

Once they finally met up, they had a 3 hour long brunch.  The conversation never stopped, neither of them wanting to actually leave or suggest moving onto a new location.  Though she felt a strong connection with him, something was missing.  The sexual attraction.  She didn't feel anything coming from him in regards to her, though he did call her pretty.

A day after the date, he messaged her.  Their date had been great, and wonderful, but he had realized that he was not in a place where he could be in a relationship.  He hoped that they could be friends.

She hoped that they could be friends too.  But she also went directly onto all the apps and deactivated all of her accounts.  She was done being hurt again.

Thursday, June 20, 2019

The Gala

She'd felt a bit isolated for a long time, so when the opportunity arose for her to not only cut out of work but to go to a theatre party, she jumped at the chance to do something different.  She missed her friends and doing shows.

She talked with some of her board members, her boss won an award.  She talked to people she hadn't been able to speak to in a long time.  It was rejuvenating.  It was a spa day for her soul.

She had been so lonely the last few months, being with everyone was better than being in a relationship.  Maybe she should concentrate more on her friendships and stop caring so much about relationships.

Friday, May 3, 2019

It's Terminal

"Anything else?" The doctor asked.

This was too easy.  This new doctor wasn't even asking, was just doing everything she asked.  And she sure wasn't caring about what medications she said she was previously on.

"Do you want to see a specialist?"

She did.  Then she went to the Endocrinologist.  The initial appointment was updating them on the last 10 years, the fatigue.  They wanted to test her cortisol to see if maybe that was also a problem.  She felt a little better after complaining for an hour, but she had a feeling this wasn't going to go anywhere.

First, she had to submit to more blood tests.

"I'm so sorry, I have tiny deep veins.  I drank a lot of water to help, but I'm sorry."

The phlebotomist was an older southern lady, and reminded her of the Southern Grandma that she never got to know.

"Bless your heart child, you remind me of my daughter.  She hated it when I practiced on her but your arm is exactly the same, don't you worry."

She did amazing, and she didn't even have a bruise.  Not like the next time when she couldn't find her and ended up a bruise the size of a grapefruit

She didn't have another appointment until September, they adjusted her meds slightly.  All that was left was those pesky "hopes and prayers" that were also supposed to fix everything else.

Tuesday, April 30, 2019

The Fest

She had enough time to mentally prepare herself for this trip, so it started in the best of spirits.  Having an extended period with Goldie was going to be fun.  She was going to a different part of the country than she'd ever been before, and was really looking forward to the new experience of being at a film festival.

Goldie said this was the "chilliest" off all the festivals, something that was right up her alley.  The conversation never stopped and it was never awkward between them.

"If you hook up with anyone do it in their room" Goldie said, dead serious.  She laughed hard and reminded her that being a demisexual sort of exuded her from the "random fuck at the film festival" crowd.

She was there representing Goldie and her art, so she was on her best behavior.  She didn't talk much, she made sure when she did it was nice or funny, or harmless.  She made sure she was always listening, always engaged and responding with her eyes to the things people were saying.

"You are catching the LOOKS at this festival.  What the hell was that? All the guys were checking out your boobs." Goldie commented after they went back to the room from the welcome party.

Even with her lack of self-awareness when it came to other people and what they thought of her she noticed it.  Some kid in college had chatted her up before a few members of the band had engaged them in conversation.

"Maybe they are just noticing my energy.  I'm trying to be nice to everyone and seem approachable so that I don't make you look unfavorable."

"Nah, something else is going on," Goldie brought up later on in the weekend.  "They are checking out your boobs but you are like, flirty and mysterious or something to them!"

A flash, of a life a very very long time ago.  She used to be a big flirt, before the marriage had stopped her out of respect to her husband.  Then, after she realized that she had KSL had been doing it, it had been put into her mind as something "bad" that she shouldn't be doing, and she'd compartmentalized that part of herself.

It was easy to be likable when someone realized they were actually being listened to.

The rest of the trip was full of sensory overload activities, A and B list celebs, and a lot of excellent conversations.  She had a blast but was emotionally spent by the time they got back to the airport.

Her mind kept going back to her "flirty" side for weeks, the rusty one that she hadn't used in awhile.  Was there a point in bringing her back to the surface?

Monday, April 22, 2019

Ugh, Why Are You Like This?

She regretted the text as soon as she'd sent it.  She'd just sent out her last ditch effort text for someone to join her with ramen or sushi.  She was having a craving and since the weather had improved she'd been antsy to just stay outside of her apartment.

She needed a walk and talk, a D&M.  Instead, she sent out the text to Mel.

"You have to be at work tonight right?" She asked.

"Not until like 10pm, why?"

"I just wanted to get some ramen or sushi and wanted to see if you'd like to join."

"I can't, I have the play.  It's opening night."

"Oh, you got into the play?  You didn't tell me."

They chatted a bit longer, and he offered to take her to sushi the next week.  "Thanks for reaching out, it was really nice to hear from you." he ended.

She winced.  She had no dog in this fight any longer.  Why did she keep going back to this situation?

Validation is a real bitch.

Monday, April 15, 2019

The Idea of Something

"If I could re-do any part of my life...like if I died and I could come back and re-do any decade of my life, I would re-do my 20's."  KSL said.

"I wouldn't re-do anything.  I'd just be glad it was finally all over." She replied.

She had come to terms that now she was 100% alone.  She took comfort in the fact that Nameless had wanted to meet up with her, and was really sweet and comforting about the end.  In fact, it was almost a relief that it ended this way.

Because in the end it all just seemed not real.  3 years of dates.  Flirtations.  Kisses.  Sleepovers.  And sex. 

And so much time alone in-between.  Almost so much time that she forgot about him, about their connection.  Whenever he came around again he was always sweet, always "making up" the time they spent apart.  Their sense of humor gelled.  He could make fun of her and it never made her feel bad.  Their Love Languages were similar, so their time together, however short, was always meaningful.

She thought of their harmless conversations about her coming up to Portland with him for a weekend, or how if she was making 3 figures how he'd quit his job and be her "house husband."  Lots of fun talk for something that was never meant to be.

Maybe if they'd spent more time together it wouldn't have worked out.  His need to keep the bedroom cold would have gotten to her, they'd become short with one another during talking.  But they never really would.

It had been a perfect casual relationship because there had been time and space to romanticize it.  In the end, it was the idea of something that had been perfect.

Reading about romance, writing about romance, was so wonderful.  So heart-warming.  To imagine someone being there and loving her and thinking she was wonderful.

Imagining kept her safe, so she preferred it.