So I've fallen back into the the online dating cycle. I still actually think I'm not really ready to meet someone, but I'm back into it, none the less...it always seems to happen this way...I get bored and a little lonely feeling, and after a couple of nights in a row of invisibly trolling the dating sites, I pick one, update my profile a little, and then pop it up there.
At first, it's a little exciting. I keep compulsively checking it for the first few hours as the emails pour in, and I feel just a little bit like a super star, the most popular girl on the site! But I quickly realize that's it's not quantity, it's quality, and the quality isn't there. I'm getting tons of emails, but they're from the same couple of non-desirable types:
1. Guys that are old enough to be my father. Really? Really guys? Actually...Really, old men? REALLY? Do they actually think I'm going to respond? Sorry, not looking for another daddy.
2. Guys that live far away. Why are you bothering?
3. Guys who are looking to "just have fun" or for "nothing serious." To them I say READ MY PROFILE and then move on. I'm sure there are plenty of girls on here looking for a fling. I am not one of them.:)
4. Guys who are currently separated. If you have a girlfriend, a fiance, a wife, a pack of wives, a harem, or even a wife you are separated from on paper, I'm not interested. Funny as it may seem, I'd like to find someone who is actually able and available to build a life with ME.
5. Thugs. What is the deal with all the guys who look like they're part of a gang? Do I look like I'd go for a guy like that? If so, I'm seriously doing something very wrong.
Where are the quality guys? Oh! I know...NOT ONLINE DATING:)
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
All I Want For Christmas Is...
Made it through yet another "single again" Christmas.
What did Santa bring me, you ask? Well, I got a lovely bout of laryngitis, a two hundred dollar vet bill for my balding cat who apparently has nothing wrong with her, and the grand opportunity to rehash my break-up with the ex on Christmas night, and try to re-explain why we weren't together.
I still don't think he gets it. Or, he gets, he just doesn't want to because that means he no longer gets to have his cake and eat it, too...me being the cake and his warped sense of "non-committed freedom" being the too:)
I still have to get through the dreaded "who will I kiss at midnight" New Years, but I never have and never will have high hopes for that holiday. Does anyone, ever, have really great plans for New Years Eve? For me and the vast majority of my friends it's always been one of those nights that you hype up and try desperately to find something cool to do, only to end up either: a. running from bar to bar in an attempt to find someplace decent to ring in the new year and magically make you feel like a part of something more than a just small building full of random, drunk strangers, or b. fall asleep alone on the couch at 10:30 p.m.
I think I'll be opting for option number 2. Much less opportunity for disappointment that way.
What did Santa bring me, you ask? Well, I got a lovely bout of laryngitis, a two hundred dollar vet bill for my balding cat who apparently has nothing wrong with her, and the grand opportunity to rehash my break-up with the ex on Christmas night, and try to re-explain why we weren't together.
I still don't think he gets it. Or, he gets, he just doesn't want to because that means he no longer gets to have his cake and eat it, too...me being the cake and his warped sense of "non-committed freedom" being the too:)
I still have to get through the dreaded "who will I kiss at midnight" New Years, but I never have and never will have high hopes for that holiday. Does anyone, ever, have really great plans for New Years Eve? For me and the vast majority of my friends it's always been one of those nights that you hype up and try desperately to find something cool to do, only to end up either: a. running from bar to bar in an attempt to find someplace decent to ring in the new year and magically make you feel like a part of something more than a just small building full of random, drunk strangers, or b. fall asleep alone on the couch at 10:30 p.m.
I think I'll be opting for option number 2. Much less opportunity for disappointment that way.
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Hobo Watch - 2010
I'm fairly content living alone. I enjoy having everything where I want it when I want it. I like that I can leave dishes in the sink for a week and know that it bothers no one but me. I'm content with quiet, relaxing down time, and I appreciate the fact that I can walk around the house in the middle of the night singing the lyrics to Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody with no one to judge me.
Living alone definitely has its high points, but of course, there are negative aspects, as well. Living alone means that I always have to take out the garbage. Incidentally, I always have to bring it back in, too.
Living alone means that I have to kill any and all bugs. At first, this was a big issue. I used to see a spider and just stand there, staring, paralyzed by fear and completely sure that if I went toward it with a tissue or shoe it would launch itself at me like a very small but very deadly kamikazi spider. I'm happy to say I've moved past that...mostly.
And, sometimes, living alone means that I have no one to protect me from the hobos.
Let me explain...
I live in an old colonial house with a third floor walk-up attic. The door to said attic is in my bedroom. Just after moving in two years ago, I wedged a rolled up towel under that door to keep out the cold, bugs, and any other creatures that may find their way up there. Of course, at the time, I never considered that hobos might be on that list of creatures.
For two years, that towel has remained in place. I have never moved it. The cat has never moved it. I'm pretty sure that no random house guests have ever moved it. Yet, two days in a row now, I have come home and found that towel pulled away from the door and laying in the middle of the floor.
Now, of course, several things could be causing the towel to move...
1. The cat - This seems like the most obvious answer, except that in over two years she has never once bothered with that towel, so why would she do it now, and why two days in a row?
2. A ghost - We've all seen poltergeist, right? Paranormal Activity, anyone? We know how this goes...first the towel moves a few times, then lights go on and off...things continue to escalate, and...well...let's just say that it can only end in tears.
3. Hobo - This is actually the one I'm going with. I believe that a crazy hobo has found his way into my house and up into my attic, to escape the cold, snowy weather. He comes out after I go to work, and then goes back up before I get home, but he can't replace the towel once he goes back up because he's on the wrong side of the door.
Makes total sense, right?
It's not the cat, it's not a ghost...it's a crazy hobo! Unfortunately, if it is a hobo, it's going to be a little harder to get rid of him than it is to smoosh a spider.
Living alone definitely has its high points, but of course, there are negative aspects, as well. Living alone means that I always have to take out the garbage. Incidentally, I always have to bring it back in, too.
Living alone means that I have to kill any and all bugs. At first, this was a big issue. I used to see a spider and just stand there, staring, paralyzed by fear and completely sure that if I went toward it with a tissue or shoe it would launch itself at me like a very small but very deadly kamikazi spider. I'm happy to say I've moved past that...mostly.
And, sometimes, living alone means that I have no one to protect me from the hobos.
Let me explain...
I live in an old colonial house with a third floor walk-up attic. The door to said attic is in my bedroom. Just after moving in two years ago, I wedged a rolled up towel under that door to keep out the cold, bugs, and any other creatures that may find their way up there. Of course, at the time, I never considered that hobos might be on that list of creatures.
For two years, that towel has remained in place. I have never moved it. The cat has never moved it. I'm pretty sure that no random house guests have ever moved it. Yet, two days in a row now, I have come home and found that towel pulled away from the door and laying in the middle of the floor.
Now, of course, several things could be causing the towel to move...
1. The cat - This seems like the most obvious answer, except that in over two years she has never once bothered with that towel, so why would she do it now, and why two days in a row?
2. A ghost - We've all seen poltergeist, right? Paranormal Activity, anyone? We know how this goes...first the towel moves a few times, then lights go on and off...things continue to escalate, and...well...let's just say that it can only end in tears.
3. Hobo - This is actually the one I'm going with. I believe that a crazy hobo has found his way into my house and up into my attic, to escape the cold, snowy weather. He comes out after I go to work, and then goes back up before I get home, but he can't replace the towel once he goes back up because he's on the wrong side of the door.
Makes total sense, right?
It's not the cat, it's not a ghost...it's a crazy hobo! Unfortunately, if it is a hobo, it's going to be a little harder to get rid of him than it is to smoosh a spider.
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Have a Holly Jolly Christmas
Day 27
All house plants are present and accounted for, AND the three Christmas cacti are actually blooming...I know that's what you were all desperately wondering about:)
Also, for the record, I just had to look up the plural of cactus.
So, I'm almost a month back into the single life, and this is what I have learned...
1. Meeting good dating candidates in your 30s is considerably harder than in your 20s. The pool is smaller, my bait is getting stale, and the fish that are left have some serious mutations and contaminations going on.
2. Breaking-up right before the holidays can make a person sad, cynical and angry. Of course, this could also be a combination of the break-up, the stressful holiday season, and the winter storm I've been driving around in for the last few days, but I think I have to finally admit to myself that getting inordinately angry at the vending machine for not taking my dollar, or hating every happy couple that passes by might have a little something to do with the whole single-again phenomenon.
Although, for the record, the vending machine SHOULD take my dollar bill, no matter how wrinkled, faded or torn up it is!
3. I'm still not ready to meet someone. I want to be ready, I should be ready, I'm ridiculously tough on myself for not being ready, but the idea of going out and trying to meet someone, or, more accurately, sitting at home and emailing strangers online, is painful and scary, and leaves me with the feeling like I'm cheating, which is annoying because I have a right...nah, an obligation! to move on.
4. The holidays, with their oh-so-jolly parties, and gathering and get-togethers, and pot-lucks, and sit-downs, and happy-hours, and open houses, and group lunches, and fancy dinners, and treat-sharing, and gift-exchanging are considerably less fun when you don't have a significant other to drag to them. Plus, why do we stuff ourselves with so much food? Are we trying to fill our stomachs, or the sad little holes in our heart? Remember, little elves, cookies can't love you back:)
5. Driving on an overly congested street during a snow storm is not the time to be sticking your arm and half of your head out the window to try to clear the snow off of your windshield that you were too lazy to brush off before embarking on your little drive. This really has nothing to do with being single, and it wasn't me that was doing this, but rather the guy in the car next to me on yesterdays drive home, who kept swerving into my lane.
And in that case, I think my anger had more to do with utter human stupidity than anything else:)
All house plants are present and accounted for, AND the three Christmas cacti are actually blooming...I know that's what you were all desperately wondering about:)
Also, for the record, I just had to look up the plural of cactus.
So, I'm almost a month back into the single life, and this is what I have learned...
1. Meeting good dating candidates in your 30s is considerably harder than in your 20s. The pool is smaller, my bait is getting stale, and the fish that are left have some serious mutations and contaminations going on.
2. Breaking-up right before the holidays can make a person sad, cynical and angry. Of course, this could also be a combination of the break-up, the stressful holiday season, and the winter storm I've been driving around in for the last few days, but I think I have to finally admit to myself that getting inordinately angry at the vending machine for not taking my dollar, or hating every happy couple that passes by might have a little something to do with the whole single-again phenomenon.
Although, for the record, the vending machine SHOULD take my dollar bill, no matter how wrinkled, faded or torn up it is!
3. I'm still not ready to meet someone. I want to be ready, I should be ready, I'm ridiculously tough on myself for not being ready, but the idea of going out and trying to meet someone, or, more accurately, sitting at home and emailing strangers online, is painful and scary, and leaves me with the feeling like I'm cheating, which is annoying because I have a right...nah, an obligation! to move on.
4. The holidays, with their oh-so-jolly parties, and gathering and get-togethers, and pot-lucks, and sit-downs, and happy-hours, and open houses, and group lunches, and fancy dinners, and treat-sharing, and gift-exchanging are considerably less fun when you don't have a significant other to drag to them. Plus, why do we stuff ourselves with so much food? Are we trying to fill our stomachs, or the sad little holes in our heart? Remember, little elves, cookies can't love you back:)
5. Driving on an overly congested street during a snow storm is not the time to be sticking your arm and half of your head out the window to try to clear the snow off of your windshield that you were too lazy to brush off before embarking on your little drive. This really has nothing to do with being single, and it wasn't me that was doing this, but rather the guy in the car next to me on yesterdays drive home, who kept swerving into my lane.
And in that case, I think my anger had more to do with utter human stupidity than anything else:)
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Like an FTP
Day 17
Well, unfortunately, due to bad weather, speed dating was postponed until January. Very disappointed, and only slightly relieved:)
Survived unexpected phone call from Him at work, today. It was surprising, confusing, and full of painful, awkward silences. The bad thing? It was clear that nothing has changed on his end. The good thing? It was clear that nothing has changed on his end.
Things are what they are and there is no room to pretend otherwise.
With that, I give you the amusing quote of the day...
(Sending files to a friend with an ftp client)
Friend: Turns out the ftp-server says, "hey, I'm crazy insecure. Please don't connect to me right now."
Well, unfortunately, due to bad weather, speed dating was postponed until January. Very disappointed, and only slightly relieved:)
Survived unexpected phone call from Him at work, today. It was surprising, confusing, and full of painful, awkward silences. The bad thing? It was clear that nothing has changed on his end. The good thing? It was clear that nothing has changed on his end.
Things are what they are and there is no room to pretend otherwise.
With that, I give you the amusing quote of the day...
(Sending files to a friend with an ftp client)
Friend: Turns out the ftp-server says, "hey, I'm crazy insecure. Please don't connect to me right now."
Sunday, December 5, 2010
Out of the Frying Pan
Day 16
Dear time: Thank you for doing your magical little healing thing.
I've made it safely out of the weepy, sad, angry phase...for the most part...and into the "perhaps I'll just stay single and drama-free forever" phase.
And to celebrate, tomorrow I will be trying speed...wait for it...dating! That's right, speed dating. I have no desire to meet a guy right now, so it's the perfect time to try something that I've always wanted to check out without feeling sad and pitiful when I go home alone. It think it's like a train wreck, or The Jersey Shore...It's horrible, but I can't look away.
It will be, either, an evening of ridiculous amusement, or an evening of painfully dull and awkward conversations at 6 minute intervals.
Well, probably a little bit of both.
Dear time: Thank you for doing your magical little healing thing.
I've made it safely out of the weepy, sad, angry phase...for the most part...and into the "perhaps I'll just stay single and drama-free forever" phase.
And to celebrate, tomorrow I will be trying speed...wait for it...dating! That's right, speed dating. I have no desire to meet a guy right now, so it's the perfect time to try something that I've always wanted to check out without feeling sad and pitiful when I go home alone. It think it's like a train wreck, or The Jersey Shore...It's horrible, but I can't look away.
It will be, either, an evening of ridiculous amusement, or an evening of painfully dull and awkward conversations at 6 minute intervals.
Well, probably a little bit of both.
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
The File System
Day 11
My mentor and first post-college boss once shared this theory, which had been passed down by her very wise husband...
The File System
Every man has a file system. Every woman that he dates gets a folder. When he's done dating the woman, he puts her folder into the back of the filing cabinet. Periodically, for a multitude of reasons, he goes through the filing cabinet, pulls out a random folder and calls the woman. He never gets rids of the folders, just keeps refiling them.
This explains so much.
This explains why ex-boyfriends have popped up after years and years of (as it should be) no contact, why a friend of mine got a call from her senior prom date ten years after the events, and why I have never dated a guy that didn't in same way, at some time, try to come back into my life.
This explains why I knew a guy who called after we hadn't talked for a few years, saying that he was getting married soon and wanted to see if I wanted to get together one more time for a drink or something. He must have been emptying out the filing cabinet before the big day!
I, as well as girl friends of mine, have explained this theory to guys. They always swear they won't do it, they don't have a filing system and they would never stoop so low as to pull a folder back out once it's been filed away, but every single one of them did do just that.
Women don't do this. For the most part, when we end a relationship, or decide that one or two dates was more than enough, we don't put the folder into a filing cabinet. We burn the folder. We hold it out, light it on fire and watch it burn. Occasionally, down the road, we might catch the scent of a camp fire, or the flick of burning ash and wonder, for a moment, was burning that folder the right call? But we always realize that, yes, in fact, it was. We stopped dating for a reason; no point in shuffling through old files when there are brand new ones to be made.
My mentor and first post-college boss once shared this theory, which had been passed down by her very wise husband...
The File System
Every man has a file system. Every woman that he dates gets a folder. When he's done dating the woman, he puts her folder into the back of the filing cabinet. Periodically, for a multitude of reasons, he goes through the filing cabinet, pulls out a random folder and calls the woman. He never gets rids of the folders, just keeps refiling them.
This explains so much.
This explains why ex-boyfriends have popped up after years and years of (as it should be) no contact, why a friend of mine got a call from her senior prom date ten years after the events, and why I have never dated a guy that didn't in same way, at some time, try to come back into my life.
This explains why I knew a guy who called after we hadn't talked for a few years, saying that he was getting married soon and wanted to see if I wanted to get together one more time for a drink or something. He must have been emptying out the filing cabinet before the big day!
I, as well as girl friends of mine, have explained this theory to guys. They always swear they won't do it, they don't have a filing system and they would never stoop so low as to pull a folder back out once it's been filed away, but every single one of them did do just that.
Women don't do this. For the most part, when we end a relationship, or decide that one or two dates was more than enough, we don't put the folder into a filing cabinet. We burn the folder. We hold it out, light it on fire and watch it burn. Occasionally, down the road, we might catch the scent of a camp fire, or the flick of burning ash and wonder, for a moment, was burning that folder the right call? But we always realize that, yes, in fact, it was. We stopped dating for a reason; no point in shuffling through old files when there are brand new ones to be made.
Monday, November 29, 2010
The LOLCat Email
Day 10
I found an old email that I'd sent to a friend just a few days after one of my previous break-ups. I'd like to think that this email suggests that I'm doing considerably better this time around, and therefore must be growing as a person. (Then again, I have chosen to start writing a blog about my dating life, soooooo.....)
Things to note:
1. I had just moved to a new city, broken up with someone, lost someone to a short, unexpected illness, and was all around angry at the world
2. This email was sent at a time when LOLCat was a new, exciting web phenom
3. Sometimes I find myself very amusing
I now present....The LOLCat Email:)
From: Me
To: Cat-loving friend who probably had way more important things going on her life than to listen to me rant (you know who you are and I love you)
Subject: A stupid rant about stupid things
Ok, so I has an angry...
That STUPID "I Can Has Cheezeburger" site! I made a few lols myself (apparently, at this time I thought that putting funny comments on cat pictures was the way to get over my break-up)...a couple I thought were pretty darn great . (And they were!) None of them were selected to show on the main page...but funny thing...the one they put up this morning is the same as one that I submitted last week! Same picture, same caption! Now, what I want to know is why did that one get put up and mine did not, and WHO STOLE MY F***ing LOL and then GOT IT POSTED?!
Arg.
I think I am off the funny for a while.
- Me
p.s. Told you it was stupid:)
I found an old email that I'd sent to a friend just a few days after one of my previous break-ups. I'd like to think that this email suggests that I'm doing considerably better this time around, and therefore must be growing as a person. (Then again, I have chosen to start writing a blog about my dating life, soooooo.....)
Things to note:
1. I had just moved to a new city, broken up with someone, lost someone to a short, unexpected illness, and was all around angry at the world
2. This email was sent at a time when LOLCat was a new, exciting web phenom
3. Sometimes I find myself very amusing
I now present....The LOLCat Email:)
From: Me
To: Cat-loving friend who probably had way more important things going on her life than to listen to me rant (you know who you are and I love you)
Subject: A stupid rant about stupid things
Ok, so I has an angry...
That STUPID "I Can Has Cheezeburger" site! I made a few lols myself (apparently, at this time I thought that putting funny comments on cat pictures was the way to get over my break-up)...a couple I thought were pretty darn great . (And they were!) None of them were selected to show on the main page...but funny thing...the one they put up this morning is the same as one that I submitted last week! Same picture, same caption! Now, what I want to know is why did that one get put up and mine did not, and WHO STOLE MY F***ing LOL and then GOT IT POSTED?!
Arg.
I think I am off the funny for a while.
- Me
p.s. Told you it was stupid:)
Sunday, November 28, 2010
It's a Christmas Miracle!
Day 9
1 plant down, six left.
Made it through the Thanksgiving holiday with no tears, minimal "where's so-and-so," and only three pieces of consumed cheesecake.
Not bad.
Watched an embarrassingly large amount of made-for-tv Christmas romance movie, chock full of bad dialogue, annoying music, and super important but oh-so-cheesy Christmas-spirit life lessons:) The star-crossed lovers always end up together, just in time for some magical Christmas caroling and a little unexpected but welcomed snowfall. If you just believe, and happen to have a magical dog, or meddling old relative who really does know best (wink wink), or Santa in disguise, you too can find your true love and, most importantly, the true meaning of Christmas!
Of course, in real life, she mopes around the house and drinks too much wine, and he ends up at a bar, hooking up with a girl who's heart he will, inevitably, break in the morning, when he wakes to find that a large snow storm has swept through the area, burying his car in two feet of cold, slushy mess, and he left his window scraper and shovel at home.
I think I now need to watch a few hours of dramatic, depressing Dateline stories to balance the scales:)
1 plant down, six left.
Made it through the Thanksgiving holiday with no tears, minimal "where's so-and-so," and only three pieces of consumed cheesecake.
Not bad.
Watched an embarrassingly large amount of made-for-tv Christmas romance movie, chock full of bad dialogue, annoying music, and super important but oh-so-cheesy Christmas-spirit life lessons:) The star-crossed lovers always end up together, just in time for some magical Christmas caroling and a little unexpected but welcomed snowfall. If you just believe, and happen to have a magical dog, or meddling old relative who really does know best (wink wink), or Santa in disguise, you too can find your true love and, most importantly, the true meaning of Christmas!
Of course, in real life, she mopes around the house and drinks too much wine, and he ends up at a bar, hooking up with a girl who's heart he will, inevitably, break in the morning, when he wakes to find that a large snow storm has swept through the area, burying his car in two feet of cold, slushy mess, and he left his window scraper and shovel at home.
I think I now need to watch a few hours of dramatic, depressing Dateline stories to balance the scales:)
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Of Plants and Personal Ads
Day 5
I asked him to stop calling. He did. I think I feel worse now.
I know that it's better and it will help me move on, blah blah blah, but when he was still calling and texting I could hold onto the delusional little hope that he could come around and realize how awesome I am. He would come back promising great and wonderful things, and making huge, romantic gestures like people do in the movies. There are just two problems with that: 1. We didn't break-up because of the unrecognized awesomeness of me, but rather his own set of oh-so-fun and frustrating issues, and 2. life is nothing like a romantic comedy.
In an attempt to make myself feel better, I've taken to building a collection of small, green house plants. It's a hobby full of nurturing and growing and pretty things, and in about two weeks I'll probably have ten wilted, browning things formerly known as plants strewn around my house. I've never been much of a green thumb, but I'm trying.
I've also started to periodically look at the online personals site. I don't have a profile up, but I've been checking out the slim selection of single guys that fall into my search category, preparing myself to re-enter the gauntlet of online dating. Of course, I'm not ready to jump in just yet, the corpse of my last relationship barely cold, so for now I lurk, reminding myself that I am not the only single person left on the planet, and that I could meet Mr. Wonderful at any moment.
In the meantime I'll keep repeating my mantra to myself: He's on his way and he's getting here as fast as he can.
I asked him to stop calling. He did. I think I feel worse now.
I know that it's better and it will help me move on, blah blah blah, but when he was still calling and texting I could hold onto the delusional little hope that he could come around and realize how awesome I am. He would come back promising great and wonderful things, and making huge, romantic gestures like people do in the movies. There are just two problems with that: 1. We didn't break-up because of the unrecognized awesomeness of me, but rather his own set of oh-so-fun and frustrating issues, and 2. life is nothing like a romantic comedy.
In an attempt to make myself feel better, I've taken to building a collection of small, green house plants. It's a hobby full of nurturing and growing and pretty things, and in about two weeks I'll probably have ten wilted, browning things formerly known as plants strewn around my house. I've never been much of a green thumb, but I'm trying.
I've also started to periodically look at the online personals site. I don't have a profile up, but I've been checking out the slim selection of single guys that fall into my search category, preparing myself to re-enter the gauntlet of online dating. Of course, I'm not ready to jump in just yet, the corpse of my last relationship barely cold, so for now I lurk, reminding myself that I am not the only single person left on the planet, and that I could meet Mr. Wonderful at any moment.
In the meantime I'll keep repeating my mantra to myself: He's on his way and he's getting here as fast as he can.
Friday, November 19, 2010
Another One Bites the Dust
Me: So which weekend do you want to go to New York City?
Him: I can't do this.
Me: You don't have any free weekends in December?
Him: No, I mean us. I'm just not ready to be committed to someone right now.
Aaaaaaaaaaaand....Single.
I hate this part. I want it to be three months later. I want to be beyond the whole breaking up extravaganza, past the "I miss him, I miss him not" phase, and over the part where the thought of him and us and every nice memory doesn't make my stomach churn. I want to be unafraid that I could break into tears at any given time. I want to not check my phone twenty times a day, hoping he texts and then feeling angry if he does and more angry if he doesn't. I want to think of him without pain or heartache or what-ifs or if onlys.
I want to be over this.
But then, of course, once that happens, I will be thrust back into the world of dating. I will trade the mourning sadness of an ended relationship for lonely nights alone on the couch with my cat. I will exchange disappointment from the loss of Him to disappointment of one dead end first date after another. I will dress up and force myself to go out into the snow and the wind and the cold, cruel singles world, again and again, in search of that elusive knight in shining armor. I will, to my own horror, peruse the online dating sites, sending winks and smiles and emails to guys who will inevitably turn out to bore, disappoint, or completely creep me out. I will fill out the online profiles, pay the fees, check my messages and go on dates. I will periodically grow tired and weary. I will pull my profile down and decide to take a break, only to undoubtedly put it back up days or weeks later when my disillusionment fades just enough for me to give it another go.
Can't wait.
Him: I can't do this.
Me: You don't have any free weekends in December?
Him: No, I mean us. I'm just not ready to be committed to someone right now.
Aaaaaaaaaaaand....Single.
I hate this part. I want it to be three months later. I want to be beyond the whole breaking up extravaganza, past the "I miss him, I miss him not" phase, and over the part where the thought of him and us and every nice memory doesn't make my stomach churn. I want to be unafraid that I could break into tears at any given time. I want to not check my phone twenty times a day, hoping he texts and then feeling angry if he does and more angry if he doesn't. I want to think of him without pain or heartache or what-ifs or if onlys.
I want to be over this.
But then, of course, once that happens, I will be thrust back into the world of dating. I will trade the mourning sadness of an ended relationship for lonely nights alone on the couch with my cat. I will exchange disappointment from the loss of Him to disappointment of one dead end first date after another. I will dress up and force myself to go out into the snow and the wind and the cold, cruel singles world, again and again, in search of that elusive knight in shining armor. I will, to my own horror, peruse the online dating sites, sending winks and smiles and emails to guys who will inevitably turn out to bore, disappoint, or completely creep me out. I will fill out the online profiles, pay the fees, check my messages and go on dates. I will periodically grow tired and weary. I will pull my profile down and decide to take a break, only to undoubtedly put it back up days or weeks later when my disillusionment fades just enough for me to give it another go.
Can't wait.
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