“Oh, no – I read your blog! I’ve got this!” (and other quick updates)

Quick updates:

1) Well, color me Wrong! about my election predictions from my last post – wow!

2) It’s now been more-than two months since the judge (from my Catholic annulment process) has had my case. Even my spiritual adviser is like what the heck? I give up.

3) Multiple guy “friends” (who also seem to want to be more-than) continue to text, but at a lesser-rate. This is a good thing: means my point is getting across that I don’t want to date.

Nothing more fun than realizing you’re training passive-aggressive puppets.

4) My blog-readership is up. I’m not sure this is a good thing. I had a number of guys over the past few months (as I was edging my way out of dating) who insisted on doing a few things, like buying me a drink (when I didn’t even want one) or paying the bill, because, “Oh, no – I read your blog! I’ve got this!” Ugh. Nothing more fun than realizing you’re training passive-aggressive puppets, eh? (No, this is not all of the men in my life. Just a few, who’ve literally said those words to me. Maybe that was a good thing, though: helps me separate out my true friends from the ones who just see me as a challenge they want to overcome.)

5) I’m almost through D-day week (4 years, now) and I’ve only had minor “echoes” – just some overall panicky feelings, and general “down-ness.” But it’s way better than last year, which was better than the year before (and obviously light-years better than the year before that!).

6) My PTSD has calmed down a lot, too. This is probably largely due to the fact that I’m working really hard at avoiding drama in my life, which basically means I don’t have a life. But still: the positives.ūüôā However, PTSD is something I will always have, and once in a while it lets me know it. Several weeks ago I woke up in the middle of the night: the wind was blowing, hard. It was making that awful whooooooh!¬†sound in the eaves of my building – and I’d left my windows open. In addition to the wind, my vertical blinds clattered, and my bedroom door shook. The noise had reached my subconscious, and¬†I’d woken terrified and shaking. (My kids were even home with me that night.) I managed to reach a level of cognizance that I realized what was going on – that I was having a PTSD reaction¬†to the sound –¬†but I was too scared to get out of bed and shut the darned windows. Eventually, somehow, maybe a combination of sleepy-logic and the wind calming down, I managed to fall back asleep. Good thing we’re getting into winter and I have to keep the windows shut.ūüėČ

7) I still haven’t found my soul directive. Still searching for that one. I feel like I’m in limbo with so many other things in my life – my annulment, my financial situation (still have so much divorce-debt, and still can’t support myself without the alimony from my ex – hate that!), my apartment (will I stay here or move when my lease comes up again in March? Can I even afford to move?) – and nothing clear is coming to the surface. Oh, sure, in my head I want to be a writer, full-time. I know I’d love that. But my heart isn’t speaking to me about any of the storylines that I’ve either (a) got in the hopper, or (b) that are WIPs. I don’t know what my heart wants anymore.

The only good-looking, single guys at Mass… are seminarians.

8) And finally: I’ve accepted the fact that I will not meet a hot guy at church. This is because, first of all, guys only go to¬†Mass because either their mom makes them or their wife makes them, depending on their age. Beyond that, the only good-looking, single guys at Mass… are seminarians. Yeah: the guy-pool at church is a lose-lose situation. Whatever. (I’m not dating. I’m not dating. I’m not dating.) Doesn’t even matter.

Things That Won’t Make Me Popular: #1 – My 2016 Election Conspiracy Theory

election-2016It’s not a secret that I’m not a fan of voting. I deliberately did not register to vote when I moved back to Colorado in 2012, I advocate against it, and encourage people, instead, to go give blood. (You will save up to three lives with one blood donation, whereas if you vote, it will mean nothing, because the system is a big setup to pacify the masses and make them think they’re making a difference.) But I’ve had this new theory since before Trump won the primaries, and the people with whom I’ve shared it have grudgingly admitted that it might hold water.

It begins in the ’90s. Remember Whitewater? The land-fraud scandal that rocked the (Bill) Clinton administration? People had begun mysteriously dying around D.C., including James McDougal, who had been in jail suffering the brunt of the heat from something that also implicated the Clintons. But¬†before he could testify, James suffered¬†a fatal heart attack. There were widespread rumors that James’s wife, Susan, had had an affair with and was still in love with Bill. The Monica Lewinsky-thing was also happening at the same time. Bill’s presidency was going down in flames. And then there was Vince Foster – remember him? He was a D.C. insider who reportedly knew some dirt on Bill, and he was also allegedly Hillary’s lover. Then he suddenly turned up dead, under “mysterious circumstances.”¬†[This part is all true, or else was rumored to be true at the time. I didn’t make any of that up. This next bit is where I start to fill in the blanks with my theory:]

So anyway, people are dropping like flies to cover up Bill’s illegal crap, but there are a few people Bill can’t kill. Like his own wife. That would’ve been way too obvious. However, Hillary was pissed: why did all of Bill’s lovers get to live – even Susan McDougal, who knew as much about Whitewater as her husband had – but Hillary’s one dalliance had to be among the¬†“offed”? She threatens to divorce¬†Bill, which would mean she could then be forced to testify against him. So Bill makes a deal: he’ll get Hillary the one thing she really wants. Power, of the Oval Office-type. Using his leverage and popularity, he first helps her score the Senate seat. But when they go for the Big Cheese, in 2008, they get blocked by Obama. So they change tactics. They call in a favor from¬†their good friend Donald Trump. [It’s widely accepted that Trump was good friends with the Clintons, and that he’d even donated money to Hillary’s campaign in the past.] Trump’s job is to divide the Republican party, thus blocking any “real” contender from swimming to the top. He does this, successfully, by making a complete clown-show of the race. (Anyone disagree?) He manages to divide the party enough to win the nomination, and has now proceeded to say the most outrageous things – always at a time when Hillary seems to be getting negative press. But Trump is a straw candidate, so that’s his job: to make Hillary look good. Or at least like the lesser of two evils.

This is not a true election – not with only one actual candidate. It’s a game for Trump – a bored billionaire, who is helping his friends, whom he wants to win. It’s a joke, orchestrated for years, at the highest level. Even Trump has now started shouting about the system “being rigged.” Is he saying this to deter us from what we all already suspect is true? Well, he would know. If Trump wins this election, it will prove my theory wrong. If Hillary wins…. well, I won’t be surprised.

Him

Friday night I met him. Him. He’s everything, the whole package: tall, strong, kind¬†of has a Channing Tatum thing going on in the looks department (I think – can’t remember his face, exactly). He’s ex-military, very smart, and it was¬†like I’d known him my whole life. Everything¬†just felt¬†so comfortable. And then he picked me up into his arms and flew me to a mountaintop…. Oh, yeah – did I mention that he has a superpower?

And that I met the man of my dreams… in an actual dream? *insert innocent-grin¬†emoji*

But it felt¬†so real. I mean, I really felt his presence….

In the dream I had a superpower too — can you guess what mine was?

dash-incredible
I thought this was the superpower I wanted…

I often ask the question, “If you could have one power in the entire super-verse of powers, what would it be? My own answer is always super-speed: I love the idea of being able to get so much more done in a day. But in the¬†dream, my power turned out to be¬†force fields. Reflecting on this later, I realized that many of the guys I’ve dated since my divorce would probably say this was a no-brainer, but it had honestly never occurred to me before. (Isn’t the subconscious great?) In fact, after a recent

violet-incredible
…turns out this one is. Okay, cool. I can work with this.

date, one guy later told me that¬†when he’d gone to hug me (I was pretty sure he¬†was going to try to kiss me), I’d thrown up my walls so fast and hard,¬†he said,¬†“it would’ve hurt less¬†if you’d slapped me.” Oops. (Sort of.) The other reason the force field superpower makes sense is because my overriding drive¬†is to be safe. And let’s face it: paranoia only gets you so far.ūüėČ

Anyway, I remember being securely in his strong arms, nuzzled against his neck while we flew. Even his scent was… safe. Shortly, my guy landed us on a grassy expanse on a mountaintop. It was beautiful – a crisp, clear day, the sky a vibrant blue. There was¬†some church group on a camping trip in the distance. Suddenly, a 2-person plane crested a ridge on the far side of the plateau. Its engine sputtered once and cut. Silence. Then the plane dropped. A second later it crashed on the mountaintop.

Right next to a group of children from the church group.

mountaintop-james-peak-wilderness-cropped

The hideous, metallic groan vibrated in my ears as I watched in horror (completely forgetting I had force field powers which could’ve protected everyone), while the lone adult overseeing the kids tried to shield them. Then my mom-instincts kicked¬†into overdrive. I tried to run for the kids, but He held me back, just for a moment. He was concerned about protecting me, keeping me away from the dangerous fuselage. But we both knew we had to help. He released me, and I bolted straight¬†for the kids, while he darted¬†to rescue the plane’s two passengers.

Then I woke up.

We’d never kissed (my lips¬†may have brushed¬†his neck while he was flyingūüėČ ), I didn’t know his name, and¬†can’t¬†even remember for sure what he looked like – just an impression. But I had the biggest, stupidest smile on my face for the rest of the morning.¬†*sigh!*¬†(In case you’re wondering, I also knew we’d succeeded in saving everyone – it was a happy dream.)

So this, apparently,¬†is what/who I’m holding out¬†for. Since my dream was perfect, I¬†didn’t have to do anything threatening, like deal with emotions, or worry about trust. I wonder how that would’ve gone down. I also wonder what his flaws are, since I was so terribly interested in him, and in real life I’d be bored-to-tears by someone who was flawless. (Besides, everyone knows that all decent superheros have serious¬†character flaws, which they’re constantly trying to overcome.)

But still, I don’t think I’ll ever have a more perfect first date.ūüôā

Confessions

I’ve pretty much shut down communication with the recent round¬†of guys who were texting and calling me. [Calling me! Seriously, what is it with guys and the phone? Since when did the men of this planet turn into teenage girls¬†from the 80s?!? I don’t talk on the phone, except for business-purposes, kid-emergencies, or with my 90 y.o. aunt who’s blind, and therefore can’t text. I hate talking on the phone. I don’t have time for it, anyway, because my free time is taken up trying to respond to 6 guys who are also texting me! Well, not anymore….ūüėČ ] I did this by putting my phone in sleep-mode during my free time, so calls wouldn’t come through, and texts would get an auto-response that I was¬†busy. Eventually, I did respond to each of them, and by continually reaffirming that I wasn’t available, they all finally seem to have subsided. Avoidance strategy? Maybe. But I had been perfectly clear saying to each one that I wasn’t interested in dating him. (Or anyone, at this juncture.)

I had to do it. My real-life — the part with the kids — has had some drama going on in it, and I’ve just needed to deal with that. It took me two whole days of decompression/alone-time after work this week, and then on the third day¬†I finally felt like I could breathe again. Then, yesterday¬†(Friday), I received some bad news: my annulment is still not over.

I’m Catholic, and I’ve been trying to get the Church to acknowledge that my 22-yr marriage to my ex was never valid. It’s been painfully obvious to me since 2011, but I had to wait until after the legal work was done (i.e. after the divorce was finalized, in June 2014) before I was allowed to even begin doing the paperwork for the annulment. A ton of questions and seventeen-thousand words worth of my response later (including edits my spiritual adviser helped me make), and I finally got the thing submitted in January 2015. Since then… crickets. Every few months I’d get a letter from the diocese saying they’d moved my case on to the next round, but they’d never say how many rounds there were. (The Catholic Church is horrible at communication.) At first they’d told me¬†it should be done by early 2016. When that passed, they told me maybe it would be finished by June 2016. Then July. Every priest I’ve talked to about my situation has assured me that my annulment was a no-brainer, that it should go through with no problem. But for some reason my case is¬†taking longer than normal. (“Oh, the Pope made a bunch of changes to the procedures, and even though it will make it faster for other people, it’s slowed down the process for you, while we implemented the new stuff.” And, “Oh, we were waiting on your ex-husband, because he’d indicated that he wanted to respond, but — oh, look — I guess it’s been over a year now, so maybe we can just count him as having decided not to respond.” And, “These things all move at their own pace, each case is unique.”) And now that we’re down to the final stages, it seems to be dragging out even more. When I called the diocese on September 1 to find out what was up, they said it might be another 6 weeks. (“It was¬†summer,” the secretary told me, “and a lot of people went¬†on vacation. Plus,” she reminded me, “these things are all really on God’s time.” She meant well, but sooooo not helpful.) Six weeks came and went. So yesterday on my lunch break, at the 7 week mark, I called again. The secretary told me my case was¬†now with the judge – the very last person it has to be with – and it’s been with him since September 8. I asked how long he usually has a case. She said usually about 2 months (which would put us now at early November), “but it all depends on how many cases he has, and where your¬†case is in his pile.”¬†She went to try to find out how many cases were before mine, but was unsuccessful in finding out. But I know for a fact that other people who’ve put their cases in after mine have been processed more quickly. This is really getting nuts. “So I’m looking at November, maybe?” I asked. “Hopefully,” she said, “and then you’ll learn if they’ve accepted or rejected your annulment request.” What?!? It could still be rejected???¬†

That thought made me want to cry and scream and give up. So last night I came home from work, bundled in a blanket, lit candles, and sat on my patio drinking too many mojitos.

wp_20161014_19_28_22_pro-2-1
My enchanted patio last night. The fountain was on – soft water splashes – and music from my Spotify. This place helps me decompress.

One of the things I’ve forced myself to acknowledge is something I’ve kind of already known: none of the guys I’ve met/dated since my divorce are even close to being able to fit into my real-life. They just want to be around me in my free time, and not have to deal with the parts of me that are¬†a mom-commercial construction employee-grocery shopper-errand runner-spiritual being-house cleaner-sweaty hiker…. Okay, maybe that last one they wouldn’t mind. But the rest of my reality? Not so much. None of them have been about “the whole package.” The other thing I acknowledged is that maybe I’m deliberately not seeking out decent, potential mates, and maybe I’m blocking myself from being truly open to getting to know a guy¬†(on a dating level) because I’m waiting for my annulment to come through. If you knew my whole story, and all the crap I’ve been through, you’d know that it’s a miracle that I’m even still Catholic. But I am, and this is important to me. I need¬†the truth of my situation to be acknowledged by my church. But what if it gets denied? Does it make it any less true? Does it change who I am?

Sweaty-hiker me at the top of Royal Arch this morning. Woo hoo!
Sweaty-hiker me at the top of Royal Arch this morning. Woo hoo!

So I’m working on getting this all figured out. On my patio last night, I identified things that make me happy. Dating (at least the guys I’ve dated so far — we’re talking maybe 15-20 guys), has not been one of those things. Writing, dancing, and hiking, however, do make me happy. With that in mind, I got my slightly-hungover butt out of bed this morning and did a moderate-to-strenuous hike. Driving home afterward, and then showering on¬†my jelly-legs, I was proud of myself. It’s put me in a pretty good mood. I’m still convinced there is someone special out there for me, and I’m crossing my fingers and praying that my annulment does come through.¬†But I’ve decided that I’m done looking for him. He’s going to have to naturally cross my path (i.e. not through online dating), and then he’s going to have to figure out how to fit himself into my life. I’ve got to go do my own thing, my own way, and follow my “soul directive.” Let’s see how this next part goes….

my-own-drum-beat

 

Distraction

The thing that eventually happens when I’m meeting all these guys who, on paper, are perfect for me, and yet to whom I’m not attracted, is that you know I’m going to come across a guy to whom I am attracted. And he, of course, will be completely wrong for me.

I went dancing last night with my friends. It felt so good to cut loose on the dance floor! But the Universe was still teaching¬†me lessons….

My Philosopher-nature has been given carte blanche for a while to try to go about the process of culling from databases, and weeding out ones that don’t match what I want. Right height, right age, college degree, non-smoker, bit of a geek, self-aware…. But when I’m sitting here all dead-inside, trying to intellectualize a relationship, and then Mr. Hot-and-Sexy-Wrong walks past…. The Animal sits up and takes notice. And then tries to take over. You can only cage a wild thing for so long. (No, I did not have sex, and I wouldn’t blog about it, if I did. But still–DAY-um!ūüėČ )

I should probably pick the one on the left. But...!
I should probably pick the one on the left. But…!

Here’s my problem: there are ¬†2 categories of men in my life–ones I’ve dated, and ones I’m friends with. I’ve never had a guy in both categories at the same time. I’m terrified of emotional intimacy–it’s¬†not “safe.” I do let some of my closer friends in, but it happens very gradually, over time. Trust takes a long time to build, and I don’t have to worry about physical intimacy with them. Conversely, I¬†have a tendency to avoid emotional intimacy with guys in¬†physically intimate situations. But that is not a recipe for a good relationship. Chemical attraction only gets you so far.¬†Plus, it’s disrespectful to both parties. (Yeah, I know: emotional detachment in physical relationships — I sound like a guy!ūüėÄ ) What I want this time around–what I fantasize about–is having both. Being able to be physically intimate with someone I already trust emotionally. Respect, cherish, desire, love. That’s how it’s supposed to go. In other words, I need to find the right person to help me balance the Philosopher and the Animal. Do you think he’s out here, on this river-current?

brook-james-peak-wilderness

Water

When I last posted, I’d decided I was going to take a break from¬†dating for a while. Naturally, since then, it’s been raining men.

raining-men

Shortly after thinking that I needed this latest break, I’d come across a page in a book I’m rereading (Broken Open¬†by Elizabeth Lesser), where she compares life to a river and asks herself each day whether she wants to fight the current… or let go and flow with it. When I read that, I realized online dating had felt like I was forcing something–going out of my way¬†to meet¬†people I would most likely never have come across in the natural course of my life (in addition to all the other downsides of online dating). Like fighting against a current. A day or two after reading this, my pastor gave a homily about how sometimes doors are closed to us because we’re trying to open the wrong ones. We have to listen to our own, inner voice, he said, to find the unique path God has set for each of us, and then the right doors will open.¬†Hmmm, I thought, like trying to go against the current, versus letting go and flowing with it. Then, when I put the key in the ignition¬†to drive¬†home from Mass, the song on the radio was “Hold Back the River,” by James Bay. Coincidence, or…!?

heres-your-sign
Okay, Universe, I get it already!

I was done fighting the Universe. I resolved to stop trying to slog my way¬†upstream, and to just let go and ride the flow of the river.¬†To that end, during the following week, I cancelled both my Match and Zoosk memberships and “hid” my (free) PoF profile. I was done dating. D-U-N, stick a fork in me,¬†finito.

There were still a few conversations I’d been in the middle of from the dating sites. I extricated myself from most, but agreed to meet one guy who was willing to drive all the way from Evergreen to Aurora one night. (I have friends in a band, and their gig was at a dive bar in Aurora. That’s why I was all the way down there, myself.) The guy showed up. He was cute, charming, intelligent, slightly snarky, taller than me, fit, gainfully employed, plus he’s a writer… and I felt nothing. No spark. Omigosh, what is wrong with me?!!?¬†On the advice of my gf, who was there, I confessed this to him¬†halfway through the evening. Being the unbelievably, cool, charmer that he is, he still wanted to hang out, as friends, and we actually had a nice time talking. (Plus, my friends’ band is pretty decent.) But I was listening to the Universe, going with my own river-currents.

That same night I also randomly ran into a guy I’d previously dated from OkCupid. We said hi, chatted, he said he’d email me, and went on our ways. I thought that was that. But the next day¬†he sent me a nice email, saying he’d like to see me again. Hmmm….¬†He’s a good-looking writer (who actually makes a living at it), he’s witty, insightful, fun-as-heck to text with, but at this point I was¬†listening to the Universe, bowing to the water-gods. I responded, explaining that I was done dating, but wouldn’t mind hanging out as friends. Then I went to go lay out at my apartment pool.

While I was down at the pool, catching the last tanning rays of the season, a guy I’d never met before, who was the only other person there, started talking to me. We chatted,¬†it was friendly, and he said we should hang out and have a drink some night. Sure, I said. (Um, this is friendly, right? Like, because we’re neighbors, right?) So I gave pool-guy¬†my number. Later that evening he texted me and I began to get the idea that he was thinking more-than-friends. Oh, dear: this is starting to¬†not feel like “floating down the river.”

That same weekend (this was all 2 weekends ago), another guy, who I’d gone out with once¬†a year and a half ago, started texting me out of the blue. And then two other guys I know (one from chatting with him on Match over the summer, but we’d never met, the other one I know¬†from speed-dating, months ago, but I hadn’t heard from him in quite a while) also texted me. I had six guys messaging/texting me that weekend, after I’d decided I no longer wanted to date anyone.

Nope, this is definitely not "floating" down the river anymore! [Photo credit: http://www.darinmcquoid.com/blog205.html]
Nope, this is definitely not “floating” down the river anymore! ¬† ¬† [Photo credit: http://www.darinmcquoid.com/blog205.html%5D
I told myself the¬†problems were: (a) I was being too nice. I didn’t¬†want to be mean and say “go away” to other human beings, so while I didn’t encourage them, I also didn’t discourage them; I just maintained nice, neutral, friend-zone conversation, (b) I was¬†trying to not-date, but I¬†was¬†also trying to go-with-the-flow, and it was very confusing, with the Universe now deciding to send me all these men–all of whom were nice guys–all at once,¬†and (c) I felt zip, zilch, nada in the romantic interest category towards any of them. Don’t get me wrong: my libido is alive and well. (I know this, for instance, because I’m reading a romantic suspense right now, and I¬†can totally feel¬†the spark in the characters’ storyline.) So, like I said, I told myself these other things were¬†the problem.

Then the Universe took a break. The following week I had an issue with my ex come to a head, in a bad way. It was so bad I was in tears at times at work that Tuesday, and in¬†PTSD-meltdown status for most of the remainder of the week, though, except for Tuesday, I kept the rest of it contained to the privacy of home. (This never happens this badly; it was an extreme situation.) I felt powerless, worthless, and scared. It was a vicious contrast, courtesy of¬†the reality-check department of my life: I went from having a bunch¬†of nice guys pay positive attention to me one week,¬†to being bullied and treated like dirt by the father of my children the next. Message: they’re only being nice to you because they don’t know you. But when they get to know you, when you let them in, they will kick you and throw you away.¬†The situation is resolved, for now; my ex has eased-off, for the time-being.

regular-programmingThis week, the Universe has gone back to its previous games. This week alone, I’ve had 3 “non-dates.” (Because I’m not dating, of course.) But I’m committed to going with the flow,¬†so I had to follow through with¬†these guys who¬†were on¬†my path. Rather than go home from work and hide in my hole, I made myself meet them: Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday.¬†I tried to be open to receiving each of their¬†unique personalities and getting to know them as human beings. That part of it was pleasant, and something I’ve always tried to do, anyway. I’m good at the “friends” thing. But I realized my¬†defense-walls are¬†up, ¬†hard-core. I think I’ve figured it out now, though.

Over the course of the week, I “watched” myself meet with all these nice, good-looking guys. But then the only physical contact I allowed was¬†a friend-zone hug goodnight. It wasn’t even a choice; there was a voice in my head saying “No, no, no!” and the walls went up. I think the reason the Universe has been putting this male-deluge¬†on my path is because I need to address my fear. Of men. Of rejection. Of the very deep-seeded, shame-based idea I have that I don’t deserve to be loved, just for who I am, as a person. I think that’s why I’m stopping myself from feeling any sparks. Interesting, that after all the inner-work I’ve done, and as far as I’ve come, that I still regress to this place so easily. See? This is what happens when fire lands in water.ūüėõ

sagittarius___the_fire_archer_by_midnight_designed-d8zlfij
Sagittarius РThe Fire Archer      [http://midnight-designed.deviantart.com/art/Sagittarius-The-Fire-Archer-543515851}

Taking a Dating-Break. Again….

I’m taking a break from online dating. Again.¬†I was supposed to be out on a first-meet/date right now, but I cancelled it two days ago (Monday) because I realized I just wasn’t feeling a connection with this guy.

Why isn't this connection working?
Why isn’t this line¬†working?

 

I’d met him on Plenty of Fish. (Oh, yes, did I mention I’m now on 3 dating sites – Match, Zoosk, and PoF? A guy at work told me that’s how he’d met his gf, by being on those 3 sites, all at once. So a week ago today I quickly joined the one I was lacking.) I mean, he was nice… maybe? sort of? …and he met my age, height, and geographic requirements, so I agreed to meet him.

But there was this disconnect. Even though we texted 1-2x a day, it was never anything that made me feel¬†like I really knew him. I told myself this was fine, and that maybe we’d really hit it off when we met in person. After all, how many times have I had great conversations online, only to discover that there’s no spark once we meet, right? It’s the biggest pitfall of online dating: if you “meet” someone great, the only guarantee is that they’re a great online communicator.

cell-phone-cemeteryFrequently, it seems – for whatever reason – I run up against the issue that I trade cell phone numbers with a guy online… and then he never texts me. Since I’m not the kind of girl who will text first, those relationships die. I’m okay with that. If he’s not interested enough to take the simple, next step of texting me, then I’m not interested in wasting emotional energy on him. And this guy had not only started texting me, but he’d continued.

The problem, though, was exactly that: my emotional energy.

Last Sunday (3 days ago), I spent the afternoon/early evening in the ER with my 17 y.o. daughter, who was having lower-right abdominal pain. We were worried it might be appendicitis. So were the ER docs. Flash-forward two ultrasounds and a CT scan later… it was a strained muscle. And a lot of gas (*whew!*) — last time she orders pizza from that place. (Augh! Kids! :D) During my downtime, while my daughter was having those tests, PoF-guy texted me. I texted back and told him what was going on. He responded, was politely empathetic. It was kind of nice/kind of weird to share my fears with someone I didn’t really know.

But the next night I was dealing with a fight between my girls (the 17 y.o. and the 10 y.o.) and some other crap going on with my ex (who is now infringing on my time with our kids – totally against the divorce agreement, totally steamed about that¬†–¬†not going to blog about it¬†any more, but you “get” my stress-level), and PoF-guy texted me: “In like 48 I get to meet you!” I saw the screen flash, thought it was nice that he was hyped, but couldn’t take time away from mediating my daughters’ very high-strung¬†discussion. (I think we made some good headway.) Two hours later, at around 8:15, he texted me again: “48 hours. Lol.” I was still dealing with my very-chatty¬†10 y.o., and was still emotionally exhausted from my weekend, but wanted to be polite. I texted back: “Woohoo! :)” Then, a half-hour later, he texts again: “How’s your evening? No ER visits I hope.”¬†Now, this, in-and-of-itself, is an innocuous text, which demonstrates interest in me and my life, from a nice guy.

However, given the other emotional stresses I was under, the text, coupled with the other two (same) texts (“48 hours!”), were a cry for attention from someone who was emotionally needy, and I lost it. I mean, who was this guy, anyway? He’d completely ignored the¬†gluten- and dairy-allergies I’d mentioned in my profile, and he’d picked a restaurant at which I could eat literally NOTHING on the menu! (And I was afraid of seeming¬†too fussy by¬†suggesting another restaurant.) And when he’d asked my work schedule, and I’d said I got off at 5 and could be there by 6, he said, “Okay, [this restaurant] at 6:30.” (?!?) We’d already verified that he both worked and lived very nearby, so I didn’t understand the time-lag, and again, I didn’t say anything, because I didn’t want to seem too fussy. But inside, I was like, “What am I going to do for 30 minutes? Go home, throw my mail on the counter, and run back out the door?”

I looked up his profile again, decided he was NOT cute, and WHAT was I thinking, and OMg I do NOT have the emotional energy to be able to GIVE to another person¬†— WHY IS HE TEXTING ME THIS MUCH WHEN I’M WITH MY KIDS?!?!!! — and I spent the next 20 minutes taking my makeup off, getting ready for bed, crafting a “cancel” response in my head, deciding that online dating was a ridiculous substitute for meeting real, live people¬†—¬†whom I most likely would never have come across in the normal course of my life — and there’s GOT to be a better way!!!

So I canceled my date for tonight. I was polite about it, acknowledging that I just don’t have the energy to meet new people right now.¬†(He was like, “Yeah, whatever, I’m done with online dating.”) The next morning I felt relieved about having canceled the date. I then “hid” my profiles on Match and PoF. Zoosk wouldn’t let me do this (I hate this site; I do not recommend Zoosk), so I figured out how to at least unlink it from my Facebook profile (that part was soooo annoying), and then I felt better.

I feel sort of bad, because I was kind of in-discussions with a few guys whom I’ve left hanging, but I just don’t have the energy to deal with anyone else right now. I don’t have my kids this weekend, so I’m sure I’ll regain my energy. But then I’ll have them back, and it will go away again. I need a relationship that doesn’t make me lose energy. In fact, I think I should just sit back and wait for God to drop down someone who can figure out how to fit himself into my life. Maybe that kind of person would actually give me energy, instead of draining it. In the meantime, I need some rest….

Maybe if I go to sleep I can dream about Thor....
Maybe if I go to sleep I can dream about Thor dropping down into my life….