The Life of Dating Sites

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So, after many years of being “alone”- although I didn’t spend a lot of nights alone and I seemed to have given my heart to those who were so undeserving of it- as cliché as it may be….I have found….THE ONE.  And by God, he has NO IDEA what he’s in for.

It started on a dating site.  You know the ones- they are free, because let’s be honest, at 30 years old if I had to PAY for a website to actually meet a decent human, then it wasn’t happening.  So for 2 years I tickled with the idea of “dating sites”.  Ness you should give this one a try.  Ness have you heard of this one…it was an attempt of help from my sister and friends.  My best friend would lecture me that I don’t need a man.  My sister and sister in law would push for me to meet new people and plea with me to cut out all the douchies in my life.  And man, there were some pretty big douchies.  But let’s be real here, I was a single mom and worked full time.  I didn’t have “time” and energy to give to someone I didn’t know.  I stuck with what I knew…disappointment and regret.  Story of my life, amIright?  Moving on…..

So, free dating sites….what a joke.  I mean, the guys I met on those sites were terrible.  Drop dead sexy, but terrible for a girl like me.  A girl who was used to and allowed guys to treat her the way they did.  A girl who agreed with the “just for fun” guys, acknowledging that this is all just for fun, but secretly hoping he would change his mind and we would ride into the glistening sunset together….yeah.  Riiiight.  Single mom.  Sooo much baggage I didn’t even realize it until I took the time to fully understand and realize it.  So, one “pay-for” dating site had some promo- get 6 months free if you don’t meet someone in 6 months.  What the hell.  Let’s give this a try.  Boy was that a rough year.  I mean, who the hell PAYS for a dating site to meet girls if all they want is to hook up with them then never hear from them again?  That’s borderline prostitution in my borderline personality mind (read: The Line that Borders My Personality blog)

Over the course of the year I logged in and out, disgusted with profiles and guys and messages.  “These guys are so damn desperate” I would say to myself on a daily basis.  Oh wait, I paid for this too.  But for 3 months I really went in deep.  I actually met guys.  3 of them to be exact.  2 of which I actually had a connection with and a good time, and 1 I really considered just because I was scaring myself into not being alone anymore.  Thank GOD that didn’t pan out.  But those 2 guys…ouch.  And of course, doing what I know best, I hooked up with all 3 of them.  The first night.  Reflecting back on it I can see why they didn’t call back.  Who would take a girl that puts out so easy, with any seriousness? But stalking their Instagram only showed that they were just as douchie as the current douchies in my life.  Again, moving on….

Carlos, Chris and Tony.  I would save them in my phone and associate them with which site I met them.  “Tony Bumble”  “Chris Match” and Carlos, by Carlos because he was the only Carlos I know.  When I think about my interaction with these 3 I think of how desperate I must’ve been.  One guy was 26.  Twenty Six.  He was 14 when I had my son. And he was as tall as me.  I’m 5ft 3.  But damn, I tried hard to make that work.  Chris: he was fun.  We had a great night and he couldn’t stop talking about how he and I would definitely see each other again. Only to…wait for it….never hear from him again.  And Tony,  That was pure loneliness and desperation as well.  He was SOOO not my type.  And then there’s THE ONE.

It was hitting my 6th month on this pay-for site and I was just about over it.  Over the idea of meeting guys, giving them a try and wasting my time.  Because again, I am either all in or not at all.  There is no middle ground, take it slow and see where it goes.  So there was one guy the kept popping up.  Brady.  He didn’t seem like my complete type, but hell what I thought was my type wasn’t working out.  So here it goes: I’m about over this BS so let’s give it another shot and then I’m done. “Want to meet for dinner?”  At this point, what the hell do I have to lose.  Everything else I’ve tried has failed. “Sure”.  And so on April 19 we met for dinner at BJ’s Brewhouse.  I in my burgundy tank and some jeans, and he in a colored plaid button up and jeans…….

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The Old New Start

Heartache can come in so many different forms.  Lovers.  Children.  Family.  The worst yet is when it comes from your own parents.  How can someone who brought you into this world make you feel like less than this world?  How can someone dismiss the memories you hold as a child- good memories and bad- because they don’t want to remember what imprint they’ve left on your soul? To tell you that your memory of visiting the house in which your lover lived. The man with whom you left your husband and 4 children.  Telling me that I am making it up when I say I vividly remember standing in front of Grandpa’s bay window on Elm St., every single day hoping daddy would pull into the driveway with you.  After weeks of searching for you, days of seeing daddy punch a wall, after finding out that you left us.  How is it my memory of you and Grandma bringing me to “his” house is a made up memory? Because at the age of 7 I can’t recall the directions to his house?  Therefore this makes my vivid, colorful crystal clear memory of being there, null of void?  How can parents play the victim when it comes to their children?  Why does it feel like every bloodshedding fight, every broken window and glass, every vulgar word thrown at each other with such hatred and hostility…how can that possibly be a child’s fault?  A child’s responsibility to keep the peace between to adults?

25 years later, and I still can’t wrap my mind around how two people can inflict such damage on their children, and continue to put it on their grown adult-children as if THEY are the ones that need to reach out to their parents.  THEY are the ones that need to fix the “victim” their mother wants to portray today.  The words their dad wants to pitch so violently at us, and leave us questioning if he was sober or not when he did so.

There are so many things I vow as a parent myself- I vow to raise a well rounded son, spewing with confidence and respect.  I vow to raise a boy who will grow into a man and treat a lady with such respect.  But, sad as it may be, the biggest vow of all, is to never left my son have a children that resembles my own.

The Forever Cycle of Heartache

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Behind closed doors, the “I Love You” is dropped
Hands are intertwined, waists are held onto
Plans are made, feelings are expressed and thoughts are shared

And then the door opens

People peer in to see, and the shoulder turns cold
Awkward eye contact and fidgety movements with hands and hair
Do feelings change when people are present?
Or were they never really there?

How am I in the wrong for leaving? There is no way I can watch
Watch you turn a cheek to me, while engaging with an ex love
“A friend” as you call it

A “friend” doesn’t need shielding from the truth your soul bared less than 12 hours ago
And a love doesn’t need to be hidden if it’s a true love
I scream and yell, never call me again, I’m done
And your response is more painful than the thought of my statement being true
“Whatever”
Words can cut so deep without one realizing
“Whatever”
Wow.
I awake the next morning, and all I can think about is if you are going to fight against my tantrum
If you are going to never call me again
Or, I close my eyes and pray that you will not allow that
That you will stand and bare your true colors
and WANT me.

But then, will this cycle happen again next week?
Because we both know, I’ll be on that ride

heart he didnt break

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Even if you love her right

Even if you were the reason she smiled

Or the consistency she needed 

Or the support she was missing

The most her fears could ever allow you to be is ‘too good to be true’

Because to her, the memory of that pain is more important than opportunities and possibilities 

She’s taken chances before and she just doesn’t have the time to see if you’re different 

Because even if you’re incredible, she’ll only see your flaws

And if you’re genuine, she’ll only see your mistakes

It’s easier to to complain than it is to change, so no matter how great your are, it’s a lot easier go be scared than it is to step up

She’s not ready for the work right now

And like it or not, that’s just what you will have to deal with, when you’re trying to love a heart you didn’t break

So if you aren’t patient and prepared for the long ride, just quit while you are ahead 

Because all she trusts is the game

And by the time you crawl that wall, she’ll have already moved her heart behind a taller one

sleepless nights. wakeless mornings

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The phone screen lights the dark room

I look down at his name across the screen

The deep pit crawls from the ache of my stomach into my chest

No matter how many days pass without a word from him

No matter the length of time he  can go without seeing me

I can’t seem to pull away

I lay in bed crunched into a tight ball

I want to reach for the phone but I already know what he says

He knows I’m vulnerable

He knows this hold he has on me

Beating after emotional beating, I long for his lust

I ache for his attention, and he knows this

Night after night I stare into blackness wondering all the why’s

Why can’t he succumb to these overbearing feelings like I have?

Why does he hide from the powerful pull he and I have on each other?

He knows this. I can’t turn away

I rise in the morning, exhausted from the overload of thoughts

Drained with the thought of facing yet another day

Will today be a day I cross his mind? Will tonight be a night he crawls into bed next to me?

The phone screens lights up the dark room

And ignites the uncontrollable twinkle he brings to my eye