Asked by Anonymous
Do you want to be famous?
Its been a long while since I have written anything. Most people who are close to me know that when I say nothing, I am happy. And I am. I am in a relationship with someone I met through online dating. He is a PD, good person, has a lot of ambitions, smart, caring, and remembers things. It is such a change to be with someone who can be told something and remember it. It’s amazing when something negative happens and then you can work through it. I haven’t really had that. I haven’t really had a lot of things that he does for me. I can be myself with him and say perverse things without fear of judgement. He is understanding about my past instead of using that information against me. He pushes for me to be independent but also is there to back me if I need it or want it. We do things together and he makes an effort to do things I want to do. He invites me out with his friends and includes me. He is an amazing person that I never imagined I would find. Despite some of the hardships like distance, busy schedules, and some misunderstandings, we manage to work through it. We have issues like everyone else. He drinks too much, I am sensitive, he does not show enough affection, I want a phone call every night, he is busy, I am busy and overwhelmed, he eats unhealthy, I have body image issues… but neither of us have given up. The old me likes to shut down and flee the scene because rejection and vulnerability are too risky. Sometimes he will see that and call me on it which is good because no one cared enough before to remind me of that. I love that about him.
Back tracking, the first date. We met in his neighborhood as he promised he would parallel park for me because I am incapable of doing such. Its almost a phobia at this point. I did not really think it was going to go anywhere as I don’t like to drive long distances for anyone, let alone a stranger. But, I like to challenge myself so I said, fuck it, and went. I was early as usual which is great for someone with anxiety. I was freezing my butt off but he came eventually. I was very lost in the city so I just followed him. I had no idea where the hell we were going. He took me to a candlelight restaurant where the menu basically consisted of game animals and things I never heard of. My first thought was that he was an elitist snob who eats shit people haven’t heard of and mentions them at dinner parties to sound like he is the shit and we would have nothing really in common. The only thing on the menu that seemed a little good was soup with chicken and dumplings in it. I felt lame until he said he was ordering it too. He then gave me the 50 questions mixed with intense lawyer. I felt like I was answering the questions all wrong but, if he did not like my real answers, that would be a good indication we would not work out. Once dinner was over he took me on a grand tour of the city. I saw everything I always wanted to see but never got to. It was unforgettable. That was nearly six months ago.
People want to know where I see it going, what his thoughts are about whether or not he sees a future in us, do I want to have children because that is what he wants, whether or not he will be supportive of my judaism or not….I don’t have the answers. Its like when a child on a road trip asks the question, “Are we there yet?” It is fucking annoying and I will deal with it when it becomes an issue. We are not there yet and there is nothing wrong with slowing the hell down and enjoying ourselves. Remember, life is not a race. There are no rules about timing in relationships. Just because people are speeding through life does not mean it is the right thing to do. Its like when I failed my comps. I had this set idea that I was going to have my masters in the time period I chose for myself and anything to the contrary was unacceptable and a complete failure. But who puts that pressure on me? ME. It wasn’t the school, it was not my friends, not the faculty, not my family. It was all ME. We need to be kind to ourselves and that includes patience and thoughtfulness. Why do this? Because when you set unrealistic expectations for your life, you set yourself up for failure and to feel like crap. This ultimately lowers your self esteem to the point you cannot forgive yourself. You expected your boyfriend to ask you to move in and when he did not, it made you feel like it was all you, you will never have a relationship that will last, and that you were not worth the fight. Those thoughts lead to a chain of defeating thoughts which become a self fulfilling prophecy and ultimately you develop a defense system that inhibits you rather than protects you. And it works so well… until you turn 70 and realize you are all alone and hate yourself. So turn down the noise and listen to you. Give the situation the benefit of the doubt. If it works out, great. If not, that’s okay too. At least you did not try to control it. Relationships are not meant to be controlled. The more we try to control them, the less control we end up having because resentment is a bitch. Okay, enough for now… I feel like I am rambling.
Asked by Anonymous
Do you want to be famous?
The song of the day.
i never thought i’d see you on “to catch a predator,” but you always did love fresh baked cookies.
So, I was just checking my messages a few weeks ago (sorry this is a little late) and drinking my iced coffee and I open up a message from a person named “John1sub”. Usually you see that and you think 1) the guy likes to eat subs. 2) the guy either has a 6 inch or 12 inch penis, or 3) one substitute for you ex. But, my ignorant ass failed to consider submissive. I opened the message and came across this…
“Hi CS - i’m a submissive male. That means i’m not here for traditional dating. Rather, i simply enjoy buying things for Women, doing cleaning and chores for Women, etc, with nothing expected in return.
i love Your profile! You’re very attractive, and You seem really open-minded and well-rounded, too.
my profile explains a bit more, i hope You like it! Please write back?
Now, of course I joined this website to find someone I might fall for but this intrigued me. A man to clean my shit, pay my bills, and do my chores without expecting anything in return? I really could use a donor to pay for my gas and help pay off my school loans. This could be a golden opportunity. But there is no way a person would do that and expect nothing in return and then say I am attracted and open minded. Something about that does not add up. Just out of curiosity, I clicked on his profile.
“I believe in Female Superiority — Women are stronger then men, and They’re certainly SMARTER. As a result, i’m subservient to Women.
i try to serve Women in a variety of ways, always 100% non-sexually. For example, i LOVE spoiling Women with cash and gifts (especially high heels!) at malls in the Philly area.
i also enjoy serving as a domestic servant:
— cleaning houses and apartments for Women (especially nasty stuff like scrubbing toilets and bathtubs, taking out garbage, cleaning catboxes, etc.)
— running errands for Women (like picking up drycleaning, doing grocery shopping, and so on)
— doing various chores for Women (like yard work)
— doing schoolwork for Women who are students, or providing free tutoring if You really want to learn the subject (my specialities are math, economics, history, and essay-writing)
— massaging Women’s feet
i am NOT looking for sex of any kind!!! As a submissive male, my enjoyment comes simply from knowing i’ve served a Woman properly.
Wouldn’t You like to be pampered and spoiled by a polite male who isn’t trying to get into Your pants?
Please contact me if You’re curious to learn more about the submissive male lifestyle!”
My first thought? Submissive lifestyle? No no… this is what happens when people are married and have stopped having sex and the woman runs the household and abuses it. There is a difference (an obvious one) between what I want in a relationship and what this guy is offering. Yes, it would be nice to be in an ivy tower and have someone cater to my every desire. But part of being in relationships for me is the give and take. I enjoy the giving part. I enjoy intimacy and the physical act of loving each other. I enjoy giving a gift or making dinner for him. I think its romantic when a man will offer to take out the garbage for me or open that impossible jar of tomato sauce. I like when a man is not so polite all the time and says whats on his mind. This guy sounds not only like the opposite of what I want but totally bland and boring. For me its not about the money or the gifts or the clothing. It’s so much more than that. Besides, I am not much of a girl that likes to take advantage of men.
I looked at the guys’ age… 42. And he looks like a child molester. Just saying. This is when I got up and walked away. Second thought was…”I can’t even deal with this right now.”
Online dating is indescribable. You meet the occasional good guys, the crazy guys, the guys who have no future, the guys who pretend they have no past, the shirtless guys, unintelligible guys, the socially awkward guys, the kinky guys, the guys just looking for sex, and the guys who just don’t give a fuck and make fun of online dating as they secretly are checking out whats available without being vulnerable. Unfortunately, I have met many of them. When you join some of these sites, there is no way you can gauge which guy you are getting unless you either really REALLY psychoanalyze the shit out of them or guess by their pictures. For example, you are most likely looking at a douchebag/tool if he has his profile picture of his abdominal muscles. A dead giveaway for the socially awkward types are pictures others have taken of them not really paying attention sitting and watching television in the corner of the room. And this is their only photo. Unfortunately, many of the “best looking” guys are usually looking for sex (because they do not need to work as hard to get it). You can usually tell if a guy has no future if he does not explain any goals other than finishing a 32 pack of beer and winning a hot dog eating contest while not listing a job or is titled “self-employed”. Moving past personal stereotypes, the messaging is where things get even more interesting…
As a woman who has been on dating sites, here are some types of messages you will inevitably receive:
*The “hey sexy”
*The guy from no where near you wanting to chat
*The sex focused, no strings
*The “I don’t want sex but let me be your bitch”
*The Psychoanalytical message (why did your last relationship not work? How long were you together?)
*The “Hey, I know you” awkward message
*The guy who never stops emailing you EVER
*The guy who “needs more pictures” to decide if you are good enough for him
*The guys who like what you like and make it a point to mention everything on your profile
*The grammatically retarded/spelling challenged message (ex: i lik ur profyle alot. U are veri pritty! and nise looking.)
*The “because it’s convenient and we live nearby” message
These I have received 30 times over at least. I feel bad because it is hard to know what you are getting. Online dating is not openly discussed. When I tell people I am dating people from online they will say, “You? Why do you need to be online?!” or “Wow, guys are creepy on there. Be careful!” or “Wow, you are actively looking, huh?” Its almost as if people pity you for being proactive about meeting someone. As if its desperate or taboo. I feel like saying back to them, “well, I could be you and be sitting in bars til I am 60 hoping the man of my dreams will waltz up to me and talk about our dentures or something and fall madly in love or I could be outgoing and meet a bunch of people and not leave it up to chance or ‘fate’!” Fate is an excuse to be lazy in my opinion. Sure, things like that occasionally happen but how often? Not many guys have enough confidence to go up to some random beautiful woman and ask for her number. Not that many women I know will give their number to some guy she has known for 5 minutes. Things are not like they were in the 20’s. While online dating is weird and creepy and hilarious, you do meet some awesome people. Give it a chance…I dare ya.
I have been up to so much. It feels like forever since I have had a moment to truly reflect on all that has happened. Via blog anyway. So, on fathers day I was home in Baltimore spending the day with my stepfather, who has raised me pretty much the same amount of time as my biological father. I think its even more at this point. Regardless of that back story, we were having a nice time. I even contemplated buying some beer as it was a very nice scalding hot day and beer sounds good in theory. I recently tried a seasonal grapefruit ginger ale thing from shiner that I could stomach so I was going to be on the lookout for it. Anyway so we were planning out our nice dinner and all the sudden I realized I had a voicemail from some number in New York or Jersey. I listen to it and it was the birthright people. Birthright is a program for 18-26 yr olds who wish to travel to israel. It is a 10 day, all expenses paid, all food but one meal adventure that is FREE. My heart started to pound because the next thing I heard them say was it was leaving TOMORROW at 9 am. As I am in Baltimore, and the flight leaves from Newark, and my stuff to pack is in Philly, it felt impossible. I basically gave up and was thinking fuck this, its not going to happen. But then, I realized, 1. I have no job, why the fuck not, 2. am I really so busy? Uh no!, 3. I need a vacation from this so called vacation. My parents pushed me to do it too. I could not say no. So we ran around like chickens with our heads cut off that afternoon setting up the rides, getting all the documents needed, etc. Then I ran back up to philly, packed my bags, and before I blinked my eyes, I saw desert. An abyss of it. And suddenly, my life with all of its bullshit and job applications felt VERY far away. And I felt at ease.
I went on this trip with 40 other people around my age. These were kids from Pittsburgh so here I was, a Ravens fan with a bunch of Steelers fans with their stupid spirit towels that they offered me to wipe the sweat from my face. The first day we got there it was all business…it stayed that way the whole time. There was no such thing as downtime. Being is Israel and having only broken up with my israeli soldier 4 months earlier, it was pretty easy for him to come to mind. I saw men in their uniforms and thought of when he made me wear his beret. I thought of the places he told me he would go when he was feeling homesick. He was everywhere. But that pushed me to make my own memories there that he could never tarnish. I made amazing friends. One of which was this amazing woman Hani. She got me and I got her. We talked late into the night about men and love and sex and we just were on the same wavelength. If I had a female soulmate she might be it. She was in the military as everyone else is in Israel. She served as the head lady for a place for at risk teens. She too loves psychology. I met other friends like Becca and both Jessicas. Everyone was so nice and different and for the first time I felt like I belonged. I mean, I belong and love my friends dearly, but being Jewish and around others who are Jewish, it was refreshing. All of that and the intensity of being in these holy cities, it was overwhelming. I think I had a few religious experiences. Its kind of hilarious for me to say that because I never gave two shits about it. Between seeing people crying at the wailing wall as they put in notes pleading with God for better circumstances (I did this too), and being weightless and free in the dead sea, I felt this overwhelming embrace by something. I felt safe and if it did not sound so psycho, manic. So happy.
There was this one night when we were camping in the desert they made is go hiking in the dark into uncharted territory. It was like a death march because they made us hike in a place that there would be no reason for us to be there. There is no civilization at all. They then put each of us individually in the middle of nowhere and had us experience what it really is like to be really alone. As those minutes slowly passed so many thoughts ran through my head. I thought of Israeli soldier and how he used to spend weeks being in places like where I was sitting. I thought about what it means to be alone. Surprisingly, I felt okay with it. Its a scary thought, the fact you may have to be 100 percent responsible for all of your mistakes. But for too long I was letting others make decisions for me and for too long I was sharing my life with people who made me feel alone even when I was with them. It occurred to be that I need to be in a relationship or friendship with someone who really sees me and hears me. Someone who can open up to me like I am with them. I decided as I sat uncomfortably on some prickly thing that I am no longer comfortable with those kinds of relationships. I felt like my heart was starting to open up after all that Israeli soldier put me through. All the sudden, I felt a tap on my shoulder. My moment of solitude was over, but the effect will be there for a long time.
Israel was filled with camel rides, swimming in the Mediterranean, clubbing in Tel Aviv, bellydancing (allegedly), going to the hospital and hyperventilating, public intoxication, Bedouin tent fun, impromptu dance parties, photo ops, 6 hour long hikes (fuck that noise), boys being assholes to each other because they both were interested in me, spiritual experiences, building friendships, pranks of each other, iced coffee, HUMMUS (holy shit so sick of hummus), prayer, kayaking in the jordan river, being in endless desert, and so so so much more. If I could go back, I would have done it all over again 10000 times.
I have been on a Mad Men kick lately. Its interesting to see how much women have advanced in this world and can accomplish so much more. I have a lot to be proud of. I am a masters degree recipient, I have a beautiful resume, wonderful men and women friends, and stamps in my passport. But, by the standards of those days, I have barely “accomplished” anything. Many friends of mine already have babies with more on the way. Others are getting married or getting divorced. People have good paying jobs and live in beautiful houses. And me? No boyfriend, no husband, no house, no good paying job, and definitely no babies. I feel like I should at least have something by now. I had the boyfriend but that was a joke. I am not ready for marriage even if I had the boyfriend. I am ready for the good paying job but maybe its not ready for me yet. I live in a townhouse with a roommate. Last but not least, fuck children. By why do I feel like I am falling behind? Wasn’t it just a year ago I was wishing and bitching about not having my masters? Are we constantly shoulding all over ourselves? When have we accomplished everything? When is enough enough?
I can’t tell you how many people are plagued with the shoulds. But what happens if we fight it? What if we decide to live with our parents into our thirties? What if we hold off sex for a few more dates? What if we take an additional year before we move in with our partner? Sometimes I feel like we are all racing each other. Who can get married first, or make babies first. It all starts in elementary school when theres that one smart and cute kid that is almost a triple threat: smarts, sports, looks. This girl in my school’s name was Katie. She had strawberry blonde hair, wore limited too, and always had lunchables when I had brown boring hair, could not fit in the limited too because I was too overweight (I remember times I would cry in the Limited Too dressing room because I wanted to wear the clothes the “Katies” got to wear), and I could not eat lunchables because I was watching my weight. The teachers loved her as she always got to write on the blackboard and won “around the world” in multiplication tables. She was always picked first and won pretty much everything. We used to play each other in soccer and I remember one time I got a goal through her. I may have kicked her shins a few times too…. but, after elementary school there is a shift. Its primitive and irritating. The Katies of the world act as templates for what we should be rather than just being ourselves and living life how we see fit. This is where the “shoulding” comes into play. So, how do we stop falling slave to it without being seen as the bitch or the slut or the cunt? Well, we have to stop giving a shit. Who cares if we don’t get married by 40 or have children at all!? So what! I mean, the divorce rate is 60 or so percent these days? I would rather take my time and find the right guy then to marry the wrong guy to save face and live up society’s expectations of me. Or my own. Its time to remember the you that you were in elementary school before you didn’t give a fuck. I was the girl who wore spandex, played defense, had karaoke and dancing sessions to Michael Jackson and Paula Abdul, swung from trees, and wore tight little outfits to ice skate in. Its time to find her again!
I have an unhealthy love for this song right now…
We have been talking via internet and phone for a few weeks. I like what he told me. He has a masters degree which is nice as we can have an intellectual conversation which is kind of important to me. He enjoys philosophy and writing. He teaches at a community college. He is sarcastic and witty. Sounded like a winner so I finally agreed to meet him at the Barnes and Noble that was about halfway between our places. So, on the way over I alternated between feeling nervous and excited. Was he going to look like his picture? Was he going to take one look at me and sum me up before I even get a chance to speak? What if I did not use good enough English? How much slang would I be able to get away with before he would lose respect for me? I finally just said fuck it and got myself an iced coffee and picked up a travel book on Paris to plan my future non-existent dream vacation.
He came in carrying a motorcycle helmet and was wearing a non-tacky leather jacket. He sat down and we started talking. It was awkward at first. I forgot his age as I got him confused with someone else so that off the bat was a no-no mistake. I steered the conversation away from that blunder. We talked about the education system and how corrupt it was (his topic, not mine) as well as what working with sex offenders and children was like. The conversation was pretty good and I was feeling alright with how it was going. He said then that he was hungry and we should get a bite to eat. He offered to take us both there. I forgot he came in a motorcycle. By the time was had gotten to his bike I couldn’t say no. I did not want to seem like a pussy. I had never had the opportunity to ride a motorcycle and while it was on my bucket list the idea of being on one terrified me. I just hopped on and prayed for the best. Holy shit was it scary. I was forced to wrap my arms around his hips otherwise I would have fallen off. That was pretty sneaky. So here I was hanging onto dear life with my legs spread cradling him. My vagina was pounding against him with every time he braked or we went over a bump. When he sped up, I got a break from vagina-back action but I was scared as hell. I couldn’t win I suppose. We then tried to figure out where to eat and of course he felt the best and most appropriate venue was a Hooters!
We sat down and I ordered a salad. Without bacon which he found to be hilarious. This is when we started talking about Judaism. I would say this is when the date went south. No, it wasn’t the vaginal-back action, or the Hooters excursion. It was when he told me that we Jews look the same and that he was sure we were a race. He also shared that the school systems are over-teaching about the Holocaust and the kids are sick of it. It is the government attempting to continue this pity party for the Jews as we climb up the social ladder and are taking over everything. I could not believe my ears. Yes, he knows I am Jewish. Was he out of his mind?!? He then asked me if I consider myself Caucasian after he made the statement that Jewish girls do not usually date white men. I wanted to reach across the table and slap him but I just ate my salad and silently hoped for him to start choking. I asked him if I “looked Jewish” to which he replied that I was merely an outlier. I could not tell if it was all bullshit and he was trying to get a rise out of me so I gave him the benefit of the doubt and changed the topic. We then talked about his writing and the fact that I too write. He writes about how religion is bullshit and I told him about this little blog. I mentioned the Jew Hunter date and how it was strikingly similar to the conversation we were just having. He tried to defend his statements but I went back to my blog. I told him that this date might make it in there as some pretty interesting things occurred. There was mention of the awkwardness of my vagina rubbing against his back for the half our ride. He then shared that his penis “got chubby” during the ride over. That was a new one. I told him that when I hear that statement I think of choads which he found to be amusing.
On the ride back I was a lot more calm. I could not tell how I felt about him. He put his fingers between mine holding my hands when we were stopped at lights. One we got back, I did not know what to expect. He went in for a hug which I allowed. It was a nice hug. We spoke about his plans to go mountain biking and play hockey. He shared he also was thinking of moving to the woods which sounds like the opposite of what I would want. He then went in for another hug but as we pulled away he kissed me. Unexpected but holy shit a good kisser. I was torn between enjoying it (which it was hard not to) and going dead fish on his ass. He then asked when he would see me next to which I replied, “whenever…” We said our goodbyes and I got in my car. I could not figure out whether it was the most intellectual date packed with passion and attraction or if I actually hated him. That kiss changed everything.
He sent me text messages later on. He told me how he has never been that attracted to someone in a non-physical way ever. Gee, thanks. He followed that comment with calling me a sexy lass. Our debate over his ambiguity and feelings about Jews continued.
So when it comes to dating, how does one read someone who is pretty much unreadable? Someone who likes fucking with people for the hell of it? How does one get to know someone on an intellectual level when they are insincere and trying to test you? The truth is, you really can’t. As much as this guy was charming and sexy and smart he also was afraid to show his true colors. He built a wall to protect himself from being judged by setting up debates. As long as I was distracted, I did not get to reject the true person behind that facade. To start off a relationship, you need to put your best foot forward, but you need to remember to be true to yourself. If you believe in something, do not be afraid to stand by your thoughts. Sooner or later, your values will come out and they will be faced with the cognitive dissonance between overlooking it or re-evaluating your relationship (or the other way around). There of course is a way to do it without being too radical. Unfortunately, my Judaism is very important to me so I felt he may as well know how I feel about his ignorance. If its one thing I believe when it comes to dating, do not pretend to be someone you are not, even for the sake of being with someone. In the end, you will do a disservice to yourself who deserves to be happy.
I have now been single for long enough to explore who is out there. Yes, to some this may seem too soon and perhaps it is. I must say I have to commend myself for not giving up on love and resigning myself to crying all over my couch and eating serious amounts of food. Usually, when I go through break ups, I tend to lose a lot of weight and go out and celebrate life (and surviving another car wreck of a relationship). I kind of wish break ups would happen more often. Unfortunately, Israeli Soldier felt it unnecessary to give my booze back so there has been less partying but shit happens. So, I guess its time to unveil to new odd dates of this round of gentlemen. To be honest, you kind of miss this…
I have been investigating this online dating thing after my last online dating boyfriend who ended up being my leading man for nearly 2 years. Its been quite…odd. I had a message the other day from a man who’s opener was, “How do you feel about a fat guy with a small pecker?” I gotta say, I don’t and will not feel too much. NEXT.
I found two guys I went out with previously on there as well. One was the cage fighter who had the house in the middle of no where and liked anal. The other was the guy who looked nothing like his picture and had me drive 45 minutes to pay for my own midnight snack. He wants to get together. I told him to hold his breath.
I met up with a guy I was interested in dating for some time prior to my dating Israeli soldier. We kept in touch over the years and I really wanted to see what would happen when we stopped playing coy and actually went out. He will be referred to as IT. He was just stepping out of a relationship and obviously I am too so taking it slow felt like the right thing to do. We exchanged texts back and forth but nothing seemed to be happening. Finally, we went on our first date. We went to a place nearby that had darts. We had an awkward dinner that became less awkward with a nice amount of alcohol. I drank my now favorite which is double espresso vodka. Everything started to be funny and then we played darts for a while. The drunker I got the better I played. We then went back to my place where we watched the Philly’s lose. It was hot in my attic so he started to sweat a shitload. I don’t think I have ever seen someone sweat that much. We ended up taking the game into my room to air out my couch which was at that point soaking wet. We laid down (I kept thinking of how my blanket would need to be washed asap) and then made out for a while. But, I set limits. I was not going to make the same mistakes as before. The only guys that scored home runs were the phillys that night. Or ever. With I.T. To preserve his self-esteem I will say no more but he might feel tempted to change his name and start a new life for himself.
I went out with my ex-boyfriend. No, not Israeli Soldier, but Worth. Oh, Worth. My bestie said, “Oh, the one that got away!” and my parents, “Are you a masochist?” but we were more than lovers. We were friends first and I missed my friend. I always have. I did not talk to him often when I was with Israeli soldier because I felt like I was committing a huge crime against humanity if I responded to a text let alone a words with friends request. When I would hear from him, I told Israeli soldier instantly so that I would not feel guilty. I was so afraid of lying or hurting a man ever again. But, now that I was single, nothing was holding me back and I missed the guy (interpersonally). So he picked me up which was something he rarely did. It was a power struggle usually when it came to who came to whom. He seemed calmer, more kind, and at peace with himself. We laughed in the car ride over. It was almost like no time had passed at all. We went to a bar that was in his neighborhood. As he was talking to me I would have flashbacks of other times I spent at that bar. In one corner, I remembered singing “Before he Cheats” as an ode to Worth and my relationship when I found out he was having sex with someone while abroad. I remembered a first date I went on with my best friend and he ex who is a comedian. He was funny and gave me cigarettes. I looked at a table and remembered taking shots back to back of southern comfort celebrating singlehood while silently fearing that I would never find anyone who could love me ever again. I went to the bathroom and remembered how sick I once got in there. I was reliving my past with Worth more than I was expecting. But he was so attentive and sweet. He complimented me and reminisced about college. I never talk about college with anyone. I’d forgotten too soon how he spread rumors about me to all of our mutual friends as a vehicle of getting me back for hurting him so deeply. But, I felt like I returned to someone who knew me before I became a sad excuse for someone who is supposed to be a role model to others who are suffering. He remembered me when I was not so pathetic. I was empowered and talked openly about sex. I was not one to hold back anything. But the truth was, I changed. Three years ago, I felt desperate at the thought of losing him. He was offering himself to me, but something was different. I found that the old me had her place in that time. That time was over. I could not allow myself to be intimate with him. The 22 year old version of myself was screaming at me to continue and enjoy but the me now was dying for fresh air. “We don’t have to do it but let me go down on you,” he said. He was pulling out all of the stops. But, I made him take me home.
People who were friends or acquaintances are suddenly coming out of the woodwork asking me out. Old flames are re-emerging into my life. I am getting 10-15 messages from guys per day who want to see where it can go. I should be on top of the world. I’m enjoying my freedom and loving the time spent with my friends that was WAAAAAY overdue. Part of me is still broken. I wake up with questions followed with more questions. I did everything that I knew of to make Israeli soldier happy. What if I cannot make anyone happy? What if he was the last guy who was not a total weirdo on these dating sites? What if I end up alone? Then I remember that he wanted me to feel that way. It was because I gave so much that he made me feel ashamed of it. He could not give, so to insult me and point out my alleged flaws, meant he would not like a bad person. It was me who had the problems. Oy. Lots of work to be done.
For those who read this (which probably is no one at this point) you may be entertained by the flat out bullshit of this story. In fact, it is quite possible, you can’t believe it. I do not fully believe it. Its surprising and pretty much baffling. But its time to come out of the shadows (as dramatic as that sounds) as I was ordered to not talk about our “Relationship” as it was private and I was not to discuss sexual things to him let alone write about it. It feels good to be back.
So here’s the goods. Here’s the entry I have been procrastinating as the story gets better and better with time. I have also been delaying it because I feel like I am not supposed to share in my blog. That HE would not want me to. But I do not think I will let someone take something I enjoy away from me ever again. Other than a cigarette.
So, it all started with the fact that my smart boyfriend was applying to doctorate programs. I was thrilled for him. He always told me how he never expected to do these things. And he was accomplishing them and being a rock star at it. At a cost no doubt, but I guess I was so happy for him because he built himself up. I did not realize until around this time, that he was so committed that he would not consider me at all in his doctorate search. I mean he reluctantly applied to local schools but his heart was not in it or I guess in me. I should have taken the hint a long time ago when he could never come see me during the week, or drive to me. He came to my house in the two years we were dating under 20 times. I should have taken the hint when I hit the deer that nearly totaled my car and how he told me he had other things planned and he can’t just drop everything because I don’t want to rent a car and drive the same day it occurred. We always ran on HIS schedule and I waited around for him to finish playing with those Warhammer figures. He disappeared the day before my comps because he was mad at me but I’m getting ahead of myself.
So Valentines Day rolls around and of course he was too busy to celebrate with me so we prolonged it two weeks. He then tells me he only heard from Michigan so far. We then ate Valentines Day dinner with tears and silence. I was heartbroken but I knew he would get in other places. He was one of the smartest people I knew! He had to.
“I didn’t get into Penn,” he said, almost as if he was saying he forgot to get milk at the supermarket but he would get it tomorrow.
I silently was crying as he was going on about his research projects. I interrupted him.
“What are you going to do?”
“I donno. I’m fine with it.”
I was thinking…how are you FINE with this. We are FUCKED. I felt myself panicking. But, I felt like my Israeli soldier would figure something out.
Flash forward to March. My comps. The biggest deal to me obviously as I had been depressed over it for a year. I kept fearing I would fail. I was falling apart. Israeli soldier was nearly absent from my life. He was taking on new academic projects and doing his research as I had panic attack after panic attack. My future was on the line. This was when I needed him the most. The day before my comps, he finds out Michigan will take him and but will not guarantee funding. The first thing out of my mouth was something along the lines of, “I guess you won’t play broom hockey after all” and after that I get a text message at 5 or 6 at night saying “If you want me to stay around for you watch how unavailable I can be.” He didn’t take my calls and I started panicking. I had the comps the next day and my support system is not here for me. This was BULLSHIT.
Flash forward to turning 25. I am told on my birthday, he is going to Michigan and even if the school closer wants him, he would not take it. Oh, and he did not think to invite me to go with him. So, it was evident that obviously we were breaking up. It kind of felt like he was drifting away anyway. Like he had given up. So then we tried the whole lets just be together till you leave charade which was fine except suddenly he cared about things he usually did not at all care about. He would fold up my bed when I would leave and hid the presents I had given him. Let alone having sex.
Flash forward to the date where we actually went out for my birthday which of course was late as everything usually was because he cared more about everything else than me. On the way over to the restaurant, he tells me we are breaking up because he just would not have time for me and he was going to be so busy between traveling, and graduating, and packing up his things. It just seemed, “like the right thing to do.” My hands started shaking, my heart was racing, and I was infuriated. How dare he tell me this on a night where we are supposed to be celebrating me? Something GOOD in my life. God forbid I am happy about passing my comps or my birthday or good grades. Not only would he be leaving and breaking up with me but he was leaving on my graduation day. So he of course was breaking his promise that he would be there and overall fucking me over regardless. And I get to not enjoy that as well. We got to the restaurant and I saw someone I knew but I knew that if I opened my mouth, the tears would come and not stop. I kept moving fast as we were seating. We were silent. I tried making jokes about the situation and we reflected on the relationship with tears going back and forth between us. I went from angry to sad to cheerful to optimistic to hurt to angry. It all felt so unfair. I put everything I had into it with nothing to show for it but a tire gauge and jewelry made out of bullets. I ordered an espresso martini. I thought, “If he is not going to celebrate me, I will have a party in a glass tonight!” I drank so I did not cry but the tears kept falling in the glass. By the time I ran out of liquor, I had been holding my tears for some time. I could not take it anymore. I was starting to panic. I went to the bathroom but I did not make it before the tear faucet began. I was bawling my eyes out in a basement at a restaurant bar as the person I cared about fiddled with his phone playing his next word in words with friends. I came back and we left. We were both crying. He told me he wanted a future for us with marriage and the whole thing and how disappointed he was that it was not going to happen. How were we going to say goodbye? Was he going to give me a last kiss? Would he hold me at all? How was I going to make it to the door without embarrassing myself in front of the neighbors? How could this have all happened to me? What did I do to deserve this? I was faithful, supportive, committed, self-sacrificing, giving, loving to this man. He told me he was always going to be there for me and he hates that he has to leave. He told me I could pick up my stuff from his parent’s house after he leaves. When we got to my place the tears kept falling. This was goodbye. This was the end to something I invested a lot in. I felt like my body was superglued to the chair and I had one second to leave before the stuff starts working. I moved quickly and he held my hand like he did not want to let go. I did not make it to the door before I started sobbing. I did not DARE look back. Not to this coward who waited until my birthday to tell me he had already made the decision without talking to me. SURPRISE! HAPPY 25TH!
I was a mess. I was furious. Then there was the whole breaking up thing on facebook. The picture changing. The fucked up birthday gifts he gave me (a photo album to remember him, hand sanitizer, and a mug. The card? It was the best breakup birthday card a girl could ask for). The love songs on the radio. The conversations with friends and family who were praying this day would come for years. My mom started sending me speed dating websites and told me to go onto plenty of fish, the place where I originally met my Israeli soldier. So I bit the bullet and made a profile just to shut everyone up and I would eventually start dating again. Just because I was bored on a Saturday night I just looked at who my alleged matches were. And go fucking figure. He was number three. His location? Where we live. Looking for? Dating. The title of his profile? Something he had said to me a few months ago. The picture? Cropped me out of it. The other pictures? Taken by me. I sat there, and just stared. Just started sweating and questioning and this sweet break up, was fucking bullshit. What the fuck was he doing on there 10 days before he was leaving?!?!? He doesn’t “have time” to see anyone because “[he’s] too busy to be with [me]”. This fucking asshole was a liar. I was livid. I called my friend and told her the news. It was almost funny how fucked up it all had become. She advised me to not call him but I had so many potential things to do with this information so I figured why not…
He picked up the phone, “Hello?”
“Hi, so… that whole plenty of fish thing…hows that going for ya?”
“Its going well!” he said as if I was asking about how his research paper turned out.
“What the hell are you doing on there? You are leaving, remember? You are too busy, remember? This is so messed up!”
“Oh I made a profile months ago to see who was out in Michigan,” he said, as if that was supposed to make me feel better.
“Thats funny. Because your location for your profile is right here where we live,” I said.
“I don’t even know why we are having this conversation. And Hi by the way, we haven’t spoken. Real nice of you. I have another call. I have to go.”
This was a nice kick in the right direction. If I was sad, it quickly was an electric shock to move on with my life. So I started looking at people on the site, talked to them on the phone, I mean, as far as I was concerned, after all of the giving and getting nothing in return or being a pushover or being unavailable to me for months, I felt ready to at least toy with the idea of just going on dates. Just to see. But then, it happened. I was out with a girlfriend and I was notified of someone posting something. I went on my facebook and there the fucker was. With his new girlfriend. And not only was he not gone, but he had picture after picture with them holding each other. He wrote that he was so happy and wouldn’t be anywhere else but with her and yada yada yada. So, either he was putting a nice cum stained band-aid on the fact that he is sad and full of shit and does nt want to be alone until he “leaves” OR he is just a piece of crap AND full of shit. And he lied to get out of the relationship. I saw this just in time to pick up my things from his mother…but that’s a whole other entry.
When I choose to discuss this, people are happy that its over. They have seen the way I have been treated whether it was not wanting to meet my friends to the physical stuff to the emotional toll it took on me to give to someone who did not give back. People felt fooled because somewhere in there they felt like despite him being a jackass he actually did “love” me. His “love” was what he was emotionally capable of. But, he is with all seriousness, incapable of loving. I was fooled by his charm, his manners, his little morsels of affection he at times gave me. Any time I got one, it was quickly snatched away and I desperately craved more. I was starving for love.
Its time to go grocery shopping and find me a man who does love.
This song defines where I am at this very second.
Today is the day I go to get my things from Israeli soldier’s mother’s house. Its an end to that era. I very much loved this person. Its a lot of change lately. I’ve been to a cardiologist because something felt wrong. Turns out the fucker actually broke my heart. I’ve seen pictures with him and some girl all chummy when about a month ago he was balling his eyes out saying goodbye to me in his car saying he saw me as someone he would have married. Its funny how time can change everything. Hindsight is 20/20 and the more I think about the relationship, the more ashamed I am that I stuck around as long as I did. I pains me to think I gave this person chance after chance to give me an ounce of affection whether it was holding me for five minutes after sex, sharing a bed with me, looking in my general direction with a genuine smile on his face, or even saying he would choose to spend a saturday with me. This man would never go on a vacation, couldn’t handle going to a sporting event, or messing with his beloved schedule and I was more than happy to be his pushover. Its fucking depressing how little I was willing to accept. I became one of those girls who lost their identity. One of those ones I pledged to never become. But, the best part of the whole thing, is that I get to find someone who will be the person I need. He gets to stay the person he is which is a self-involved, afraid, unaccepting, and racist and I get to be me who talks about sex, plays bingo, sings to top 40 music, eats dessert, goes on vacations with someone who WANTS to be there, and does not hold everything from my past against me. I get to have a man who takes care of me when I am sick or wants to hang out with my friends. Someone who likes more than just having sex with me. The one thing Israeli soldier couldn’t protect me from was him. His anger left me afraid and scared of what would happen next. Between things thrown around, breaking things, “accidentally” throwing me against a wall or “accidentally” choking me, I get sick to my stomach that I stayed with this person and made excuses for him. Even when my friends were telling me how concerned they were. I have a lot of work to do. I’m at ground zero and its only rebuilding from here. I just have to wipe the tears away and keep going. Through all of the heart stuff, I have to because today could be my last and I do not want to spend another minute of it crying over someone who took me for granted. It’s about that time. I’m going to get my alcohol from the pile of shit he threw out with me and throw a fucking party.