Online Dating at 36 - The Good, the Bad, & WTH?

I have a crush. It's just a little one. No one really knows about it, and it is highly unlikely it will go anywhere. But it's turned out to be key to a big leap in my recovery. I'm an only child who was a "latch-key kid". I spent endless hours in worlds in my own head, sometimes spurred along by my voracious reading, sometimes purely the work of my own imagination. Like most children, I had an imaginary friend. But, I also had an imaginary husband. Hey, I never said I was normal. In my life, I've always seemed most internally happy when I've had some object -- I suppose person would be the better term -- to be desiring, to be starring in my 'fantasies'. (I dislike the term 'fantasies', as it conjures up visions of XXX dreams for me, but I think you all know what I mean.) Most often in my life, that person has been beloved from a distance. A friend or colleague I find attractive, usually. Sometimes that person has been an actual, act

My Facebook friends know what happened almost 24 hours ago, but lest you are a follower who isn't a "friend", let me recap. It was a lovely Saturday evening. I had spent the morning at rehearsal and the afternoon at a baby shower. I was in my living room attaching chains to my newly-made hanging plant shelf, preparing to install it, cursing at my clearly inept wire cutters. That was when I heard the buzzing of my phone in my purse, still on vibrate from the baby shower. My phone has three vibration patterns. A long buzz means a phone call. Two short buzzes is a text message. And a pattern called "symphony", which is short-short-short-long (think the opening to Beethoven's 5th Symphony), is reserved for D. Even though it has been over 8 months, D is no "long forgotten memory". You don't spend 3 years of your life as intertwined with another person as he and I were to just *poof* forget about them in a short period. While this is certainly

I literally said that out loud. Let me paint the picture for you: I am sitting on a chair at the front of my church, facing the altar. In front of me is a music stand, and then 15 people, also seated. It's a typical early spring Wednesday night, and choir is rehearsing. To my left is another music stand with the top laid flat, supporting my second binder of music for the expanded Holy Week choir, my Dr. Pepper, and my cell phone, which is set on vibrate. A cell phone in a plastic case on a metal surface on vibrate is loud. When I heard the *BUZZ BUZZ* -- or more like *BZZRATTLEZZ BZZRATTLEZZ*, of course I looked to see who was texting. I expected a female friend, or perhaps a text reminder of an upcoming appointment. (I had knee surgery not quite 6 weeks ago.) Nope. It was an ex. Not that  ex. The other  ex. The one from like 5 years ago, who periodically texts to see what my relationship status is and/or if I'm singing with a local group. Usually, the answer is "tak