Putting My Money Where My Mouth Is
At least, I need to.
I've been saying over and over that I need to move on from P, blah blah blah... this record has been played so many times you all could probably write the next several blog posts for me. I admit it. But a couple of conversations over the past 24 hours have helped guide my pathetic brain.
One in particular affirmed why I was having such a hard time letting go. It isn't the fear of the unknown; God knows I've been single for so long that should be my comfort zone. It's because it's hard to move on when there's nothing to move on to. Being an only child, I've always had a very rich imagination. I had lots of imaginary friends growing up, and between them and sticking my nose in a book, losing myself in a fantasy world has always been my primary means of escapism. I have learned -- and this is a challenge to admit on the interwebz -- that even now as an adult I'm happiest when my escapism fantasies include a man to have a "crush" on. When there's no one in my life that I have a crush on, be it a cheesy celebrity crush or something more realistic, I am mopier than usual.
So finding out that the hot medical sales guy "favorited" me gave me a new focus. I've also started emailing a couple other guys from Match, making the first move. Will they respond? I have no idea. Actually, I'm batting .000 in hearing back from guys whom I've emailed first. Such is life on Match! But for my "guarantee," I only have to email them; they don't have to respond.
Which brings us back to P. Time to be honest. Bluntly honest. Time for me to quit putting up a shred of illusion here on the blog and to be frank about him. (And I know when at least one of my friends reads this, I will get even more "tough love." Bring it on!)
He's very smart and an interesting conversationalist. He says he's "opinionated," but in reality he's a bit of a jerk if your opinion disagrees with him. Even if your opinion is based on years of training because it's your area of expertise. Although, to give him credit, if you are equally strong in your opinions and arguments, he is willing to shift and concede. He's not a fantastic father. Watching his interactions with his son has always made me curious and a little... I'm not quite sure what word I'm looking for. He's just not an instinctive, nurturing, caring father, nor is he one of those "toughen him up" kind of dads with the tough love. He definitely loves doing things with his son, yet at the same time when I've been around them the kid (as he calls him) is sometimes treated as an inconvenience. As a teacher, it just sets me on edge a bit. He takes more pictures of his son than imaginable, but for an example (and perhaps one that will bias you the wrong way) I noticed after Facebook stalking him that he posted a picture of his son -- because he was posing with "a hot biker chick." Something I've mentioned before: even when on a date with me, actively trying to get me in bed, he was also checking out and making comments about other women -- too many comments. And my final peeve, at least for now: he says one thing and does something else. Please. 48 year old men are too old to play stupid games and to think that any adult woman -- especially one with 3x the college education than him -- is going to not see through the shit. Give me some credit.
Yep, the rose colored glasses are long gone. And I've known these things for some time, but have been willing to deal with them because everything was so new. Not anymore. I'm not ready to label him a total douche, but I'm not far from it.
Here's my verdict for now. I'm shallow enough to admit that the above things don't matter if there's no relationship other than one that is strictly physical. Yep, I'm talking about being fuck-buddies. He was my repast after a long, long, long dry spell and honestly, the sex isn't bad. And I'm not just saying that because any sex is better than no sex! Tonight, I'll be sending him a text that I've been working on all day. In essence, it will say: "I'm perfectly happy being only "friends with benefits," no strings attached sex, until one of us is seeing someone exclusively. Sound ok? LMK, even if the answer is no."
If he says, no, fuck him. (Figuratively, not literally.) If he says that's fine, then fuck him. (Literally, not figuratively.) Either way, I'll have my imaginary medical sales guy... and hot born in France pilot... to keep me "company."
I've been saying over and over that I need to move on from P, blah blah blah... this record has been played so many times you all could probably write the next several blog posts for me. I admit it. But a couple of conversations over the past 24 hours have helped guide my pathetic brain.
One in particular affirmed why I was having such a hard time letting go. It isn't the fear of the unknown; God knows I've been single for so long that should be my comfort zone. It's because it's hard to move on when there's nothing to move on to. Being an only child, I've always had a very rich imagination. I had lots of imaginary friends growing up, and between them and sticking my nose in a book, losing myself in a fantasy world has always been my primary means of escapism. I have learned -- and this is a challenge to admit on the interwebz -- that even now as an adult I'm happiest when my escapism fantasies include a man to have a "crush" on. When there's no one in my life that I have a crush on, be it a cheesy celebrity crush or something more realistic, I am mopier than usual.
So finding out that the hot medical sales guy "favorited" me gave me a new focus. I've also started emailing a couple other guys from Match, making the first move. Will they respond? I have no idea. Actually, I'm batting .000 in hearing back from guys whom I've emailed first. Such is life on Match! But for my "guarantee," I only have to email them; they don't have to respond.
Which brings us back to P. Time to be honest. Bluntly honest. Time for me to quit putting up a shred of illusion here on the blog and to be frank about him. (And I know when at least one of my friends reads this, I will get even more "tough love." Bring it on!)
He's very smart and an interesting conversationalist. He says he's "opinionated," but in reality he's a bit of a jerk if your opinion disagrees with him. Even if your opinion is based on years of training because it's your area of expertise. Although, to give him credit, if you are equally strong in your opinions and arguments, he is willing to shift and concede. He's not a fantastic father. Watching his interactions with his son has always made me curious and a little... I'm not quite sure what word I'm looking for. He's just not an instinctive, nurturing, caring father, nor is he one of those "toughen him up" kind of dads with the tough love. He definitely loves doing things with his son, yet at the same time when I've been around them the kid (as he calls him) is sometimes treated as an inconvenience. As a teacher, it just sets me on edge a bit. He takes more pictures of his son than imaginable, but for an example (and perhaps one that will bias you the wrong way) I noticed after Facebook stalking him that he posted a picture of his son -- because he was posing with "a hot biker chick." Something I've mentioned before: even when on a date with me, actively trying to get me in bed, he was also checking out and making comments about other women -- too many comments. And my final peeve, at least for now: he says one thing and does something else. Please. 48 year old men are too old to play stupid games and to think that any adult woman -- especially one with 3x the college education than him -- is going to not see through the shit. Give me some credit.
Yep, the rose colored glasses are long gone. And I've known these things for some time, but have been willing to deal with them because everything was so new. Not anymore. I'm not ready to label him a total douche, but I'm not far from it.
Here's my verdict for now. I'm shallow enough to admit that the above things don't matter if there's no relationship other than one that is strictly physical. Yep, I'm talking about being fuck-buddies. He was my repast after a long, long, long dry spell and honestly, the sex isn't bad. And I'm not just saying that because any sex is better than no sex! Tonight, I'll be sending him a text that I've been working on all day. In essence, it will say: "I'm perfectly happy being only "friends with benefits," no strings attached sex, until one of us is seeing someone exclusively. Sound ok? LMK, even if the answer is no."
If he says, no, fuck him. (Figuratively, not literally.) If he says that's fine, then fuck him. (Literally, not figuratively.) Either way, I'll have my imaginary medical sales guy... and hot born in France pilot... to keep me "company."
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