Posts Tagged ‘divorce

27
Apr
16

Not the kind of dick I prefer…

I just sent a demand letter to my ex-spouse.

I’ve never run a marathon, but I think what I am feeling right now might be similar to what someone might feel having just qualified to run Boston – empowered, powerful, free, successful…terrified as hell, sick to your stomach, scared to death by the challenges and hard work that lie ahead.

Yeah, I have butterflies…and not the good kind. I’m walking around the house alternately doing a little dance or fist pump and bending over to hyperventilate. Because I know that I am unleashing the Kraken. I know the other shoe is going to drop. I know he is going to lose his shit. And yet, in my MIND – which much smarter than my stomach, heart and adrenal gland – I KNOW that I have the upper hand. I KNOW that I have a superior bargaining position. I KNOW that I am well within my RIGHTS to protect myself and my finances and NOT allow him to screw me again. Literally or metaphorically. (Especially not with that tiny wiener and wham-bam style!)

During the last four years since we separated, I wanted the term “amicable divorce” to be a real and true fact. I tried my best to honor our marriage and family by not talking shit about my ex and not allowing others to do so either. I defended him, I forgave him and I took a very minimal divorce settlement in order to maintain peace, harmony and family. I made sure to project that image and maintain that cordiality and friendship even during challenging times.

Then he stopped making payments and told me to “have a nice life.”

Then he got served with foreclosure paperwork for the house we still own together.

Then he asked for my help in going together to settle with the bank.

…on a house that I don’t live in.

…for a house I haven’t lived in in 4 years.

….for a man who makes about 6 times as much as I do.

 Oh yes, and could you stop being so childish and asking for silly things like the file and paperwork pertaining to the case? You don’t need that. Why do you need your own attorney? I’m offering to pay for an attorney. Why won’t you answer my 5 phone calls in a row and 8 texts sent before 9:30 am on Saturday? Are you going to continue to be difficult because you are upset?

This is not the kind of dick I prefer!

I worked hard, served my time, put up with a lot, sacrificed and then sacrificed again for the good of my family.

Now I’m going stone cold bitch for the good of myself.

I told him I would be happy to work on the bank settlement with him as soon as he paid me the balance he owes me in cash because his credit is no good with me. Otherwise, I will gleefully drag this out another year then declare bankruptcy and leave him responsible for the full debt, any tax liability that might result from a deficiency being forgiven and substantial attorney fees. I’m told that the bank will not be willing or able to settle the case if I say I want to go to trial.

After nearly three decades of being charmed, bullied or manipulated into doing what this man wanted me to do, it feels really good to put my foot down.

After all, isn’t that how you win a marathon?

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09
Dec
14

People you may know…

The Huffington Post‘s “Gay Voices” section recently ran an article about how Facebook is using our personal information to try to “suggest” friends that we may still be trying to forget about – those folks we hooked up with a time or two awhile back…our one-night-stands!

I saw the piece linked on Facebook with the header “has this happened to you lately?” Oh my, yes. At first, it was really startling to see the face and real name of my first black guy – and recall my first walk of shame. He was the second guy I slept with after my separation and I would never have put up with his nonsense and games if I hadn’t been so desperate to get laid properly! As it was, I didn’t put up with him for long and he did get a little “stalkerish” even after I’d told him to lose my number. I like to think that I have a bit more taste and self-respect now and would never go home with this guy because he really personified the cliche of guys who “only want one thing” but the fact of the matter is, at the time, I hadn’t had good sex in years and had only had any sex twice in the previous 18 months – once with the guy who came before he got it in & showed no interest in my satisfaction (identified as B36 in this blog entry,) and once with my ex husband. I feel like I made a decision to choose sex over self-respect in that case and I don’t really regret it. However, it was a shock to see this guy in my “people you may know” feed on Facebook. The only contact I had with him was on Plenty of Fish and by cell phone. Which data did they collect? My cell phone contacts or people I communicated with on my POF phone app? Either way? A little scary & something to think about.

Incidentally, in writing this post today, I went back and actually searched for that guy on Facebook and he doesn’t even come up. Perhaps he saw me and hit block? Fine by me.

Just the other day I had a double shock when two men that I had dated some time ago showed up in the #1 and #2 positions on my “people you may know” on Facebook. One was the married guy that I saw regularly for four months. I realize that I covered the story of how we met  in a blog entry, but I never really wrote about the rest. The fact that he was perfect in many regards – a regular fuck buddy in the early days of my dating & being on my own – not a demand on my time, but a regular pleasure in my bed. At some point, things got a bit too involved – feelings developed on both sides and intensity happened. He played a “push pull” game where he would give and demand and absorb and then act like it was “just fucking” and remind me that he was married – despite the fact that I never demanded anything from him at all. He was the one who said I was like a man when it came to sex – precisely because of my lack of wanting anything other than the sex. Basically, he was the one who was insecure and wanted more, but he would turn it around like I was the one doing so. He would write me huge emails about his feelings or text obsessively then tell me that he wasn’t attracted to me & remind me that it was “just sex.”  He would say we could never kiss…then one day kiss me as passionately as anyone ever has. He had a problem with booze and didn’t seem to like himself very much. He liked to challenge and tease me and used to see how far he could push it before I got really annoyed. One day that involved biting during sex. Playful biting became rough biting. My “no” became a challenge and he bit me hard –  on the face. The second time he bit my face, I fought him and kicked him. We had a scary moment where I realized “this is how sexual assault happens” and then we both took a breath, he got dressed and left. He told me that if he left he was never coming back. I said that was fine. It’s been about two years and he hasn’t been back. Honestly, I think it was good to rip the band-aid off when we did. While the episode between us left me shaken, it also allowed for a clean break – and I think it was time.

Five months after the night he left, “married guy” sent me an email to see how I was doing. I told him that I was seeing someone that I really liked and we exchanged a few “glad you are doing well, take care” emails. Good. Basically, it let him know that there wasn’t room for him in my life right now but that I didn’t harbor any ill will. I’m just over it. My life has moved forward.

Ironically, this guy who so often did protest too much – used to act all secretive like I was going to stalk him or tell his wife or something – has his Facebook account wide open. I almost want to send him a friend request just to shake him up a little bit. But I won’t. I’ll just smile thinking about it here.

In his case, we did use email to communicate as well as phones. However, it was a different email address than the one I use for Facebook, so I think that once again, my phone may be responsible for sharing my personal information.

The fellow who showed up second in my “people you may” list is less surprising because we have friends in common. He’s the one that I called “Dancing Doctor Who” and who was downright obsessive about cooking. He also didn’t like to have his penis sucked, climaxed in German, was my first OKCupid Meetup, lived in a Harry Potter closet and turned out to have mutual friends with. I think we wound up seeing each other three or four times in total – twice involving playing board & card games. He was part of my plan to stop seeing hot pieces of ass, embrace the nerdy and actually date people rather than just screw around. However, I think he proved to be a bit too nerdy and weird for me. He was truly living the life of a larping, gaming, cooking, dancing, fellatio-hating, communal-living 20-year-old. I know that we will encounter one another at some Convention or another – and he’ll likely be the one in Cosplay.

In writing this, I found a fourth guy in my “people you may” list – a guy that I never met, but whose POF messages had advanced to phone texts. So…four men – three different methods of introduction and the common thread? My phone. I put my number on Facebook because I reasoned that anyone who was a FB friend is someone that I was comfortable having my number and being able to contact me that way. Now I realize that Facebook is using some algorithm involving my phone contacts (and possibly text history,) to target my social interactions. There’s a part of me that thinks this is fine – despite my “no Facebook rule” about men I date, they certainly would qualify as “people I know” and might want to reach again. There’s still another part of me that is creeped out and a bit concerned about the ability to access my personal information.

 

09
Oct
14

Happy Non-iversary

I’ve been blogging so irregularly that I never told you guys…I’m divorced. I mean, okay, I call myself the “Risqué Divorcée” but this started with tales of my separation. I guess the “Saucy Separated Gal” didn’t have the same ring to it. But my divorce has been final for quite awhile now. It came & went without any fanfare or even a mention in this blog. Goodbye 20 + years of marriage. Goodbye joint tax return. Goodbye 25-year relationship. Done.

I don’t like to write about my ex because even before our divorce was final, our marriage was long over. I think it was over for years before either of us realized, actually. I wanted the focus of my writing to be about me and my moving forward. I didn’t want to be the “Bitter Divorcée” blathering about past hurts, what was, what might have been. No, this blog was intentionally meant to be funny, saucy, empowering – a tribute to fat, middle-aged chicks starting over and having fun! While I have definitely had my share of hilarity and adventure, I also have struggles, adjustments, fear, changes, anxiety. Sometimes I wonder how I got here – it’s surreal on occasion to realize that my entire previous identity no longer exists – my house, husband, kids – everything that used to define me is no longer a part of my life. It’s sometimes overwhelming & terrifying. It’s a lot to un-learn.

For example, this week I would have marked my 26th wedding anniversary. Last year I sent my ex a text saying “Happy Non-iversary” and he replied “heh – thanks! You too!” This year I thought about the significance of the date a few times but that was it. I know two other couples with the same anniversary & both were posting photos and best wishes on Facebook and celebrating their respective 20-something-year-old marriages. It’s hard to avoid thinking about the fact that it was also our anniversary.

What am I feeling? Not regret. I’m happy. Much, much happier, in fact. But there’s some weird part of me that feels like I should get credit for having been married longer than most people are today. For making it 20 years longer than the predictions of the detractors who scoffed at me as a teen bride and said we wouldn’t make it. I feel like I should get some credit. Maybe flowers? No. Instead it just came and went without any fanfare. No Throwback Thursday photo. It simply no longer exists. I wonder if my ex thought about it at all.

There’s just so much to un-learn and stop being. Even my boyfriend sometimes refers to my ex as “your husband” – which drives me nuts, by the way. He’s not. We’re not. He was. It’s over. It’s just not possible to un-remember those non-iversaries.

16
Sep
13

Eschewing Drama

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Editor’s note: drama is something that I have been trying to weed out of my life but is a rather powerful force that is difficult to avoid. I started writing this particular blog entry in early August 2013, updated it in mid-November and mostly finished it in January, 2014. However, while loading a photo before posting, my computer crashed and all updates to my draft were lost. I got pissed & put it away again.  Now I’ve pulled it out because I feel the topic deserves attention, and because it feels weird to have written so much without actually finishing something. 

The fact is, drama can be exciting and engaging and blind us to the fact that what we’re really dealing with are toxic relationships. It’s often tremendously difficult to leave those and I could write an entire book about that!  I initially had planned to write three “chapters” that covered episodes of drama in my life that were currently troubling at the time that I started this draft. Particularly, I meant to address the “drama queens” that were actively seeking attention at the time – The Ex, The High-maintenance Friend & The Other Woman. I finally decided that I should make it three separate entries because the first “chapter” became quite long. But then something interesting happened. As I was finishing the first section today, I realized that the other two sections no longer hold much weight. In fact, they are barely worth writing about, let alone having their own entry. The ex hubby & I are getting along pretty well and I haven’t had a nasty-gram from him in months. The other woman barely exists in my guy’s life now  – largely because he has also been working on getting rid of drama and limiting unhealthy relationships. Perhaps setting boundaries gave me more strength than I realized. Maybe getting rid of one drama queen made the others fall away as well. –RD

It’s true. I’ve been accused if being a drama queen. I fully accept the fact that I’m loud, direct & I like to spin a good yarn. I wouldn’t have this blog if I didn’t enjoy sharing humorous & dramatic tales. But lately I’ve coined the term “save the drama for the opera & the end-zone.” It’s just not always a good thing.

Sometimes drama is engaging, fun, exciting and riveting. Sometimes it’s energy-draining, hurtful, negative, time-consuming, nasty bullshit. Too often we get stuck in a cycle of drama with friends and in romantic relationships and it can be really difficult to get out. I have a long history of taking on other people’s pain, tragedy, angst and worry. It’s great to have empathy and compassion, but the past few years have found me learning the boundary between being a supportive friend and being used as fuel in someone’s drama-fest. I’m also trying to learn to not escalate my personal conflicts into big, dramatic episodes. I try to avoid or at least not ramp up these moments of strife while at the same time, not allowing myself to be a doormat. I guess I’m learning to pick my battles. I’ve always been direct but I’m trying not to be aggressive. As for being passive-aggressive? I’m trying to do away with that altogether. Ain’t nobody got time for that!

THE FRIEND  Speaking of crap I don’t have time for, I recently cut a friend out of my life after what was simply the last straw for me in her constant flow of high-drama, self-absorbed, narcissistic incidents. Seriously. I used to refer to her as “my high-maintenance friend” and many of our mutual friends had already grown tired of her conduct and cut her off. When I first got to know her a bit I used to downplay her behavior by saying “she’s just young and has some maturing to do.” I cut her tons of slack. I felt like I took on a sort of nurturing role of confidant who was helping to thicken her thin skin. I reasoned that her hypersensitivity might actually help me learn to be more thoughtful and sensitive in my communication too. How often was my “directness” considered abrupt and insensitive? I was absolutely willing to examine my own behavior.

We often had fun together – she is very smart, lively and witty. But her go-to emotion seems to be butthurt, in conflict or going through some sort of drama with a client, employer, landlord, neighbor, lover, friend, parent, sibling, cashier, server, ex, other drivers on the road, etc. It was ongoing and exhausting. Her Facebook posts were full of angst and conflict disguised as intellectual conversation. Soon I realized that she tends to bully people with her feelings – requiring that hers be validated in a very specific fashion, while downplaying or dismissing those of others.

My justification that “she’s just young” doesn’t really play either. My last straw happened on her 27th birthday. She had specifically requested a karaoke outing and I had enthusiastically accepted.  I asked if it was okay to include my niece who was visiting from college. She agreed but asked that it be “just girls” and no dates. It took a coveted Friday away from my fella, but I agreed. I shopped for a couple of small, personal, thoughtful gifts and a nice card. I also spent more than an hour on the phone with her that afternoon talking about her sister and her feelings having been invalidated because her sister cares more about her new baby than her (my ex-friend’s) feelings. Seriously, it was painful. An hour and a half of her saying how her sister having a baby was just one more thing for her to hold over her head. One more way that the sister is more successful. The entire conversation I never knew if the child was male or female or had a name. It was always “it” or “the baby” and occasionally “the damn baby” – gross.

Again, I give someone slack on their birthday in particular. I was kind and patient and I showed up that evening dressed nicely and with gifts in hand. She thanked me saying that I was the one person who always got her something for her birthday. They weren’t big or expensive, but they were thoughtfully selected for her. One was a nice, carved wood bookmark that she immediately put inside the book that she had brought with her. The other was a small, decorative pill box that you might keep safety pins (or perhaps Prozac) in. It was painted with a miniature of the Seattle skyline and she seemed very pleased to have received them. Ironically, the card read “Don’t be a Drama Queen – it’s just a birthday!” It proved to be quite prophetic.

We ordered drinks and food – I opened a tab with the intention of covering the bill for the three of us plus the two other friends that she was expecting. Meanwhile, I asked if she wanted to sing a duet, she said yes and I went over to chat with the karaoke host (a close friend of mine) and put in our song. I came back a few minutes later and told her we were all set and she said “No, no, no! I don’t want to sing that YET! I mean, I want to sing it, but I don’t want it to be the first thing I do.” Okay, I guess that’s why I asked you in the first place, but away I went to change the song (which the KJ had kindly put at the top of the rotation because of it being this gal’s birthday.) I chatted with him for a few more minutes about what to sing, what songs he’s been working on and general friendly chit-chat. Apparently when I was away the birthday girl lit into my niece saying asking what was wrong with me and saying she could tell that we were over there talking about her. My niece thought this was really crazy and it made her uncomfortable, but I didn’t know about it until later.

Food arrived and was virtually ignored by the guest of honor who was starting to get really spun up about the fact that her other two friends hadn’t yet arrived. She began texting to see where they were and encourage them to hurry up. When one of the friends messaged back that she wasn’t feeling well and apologized, saying she would take her out for lunch in a few days, but couldn’t make it out, the tantrums started. This 27-year-old adult human began whining “but it’s my birrrrrthdaaay! It’s only one day! She should have known better than to go to yoga and overdo it!” A text exchange then ensued wherein she blatantly guilt-tripped her apologetic (and apparently ill) friend. The friend, having said that her head was throbbing and she felt nauseous, apologized again and the birthday brat tapped in a response that said “you say that so frequently it no longer has any meaning to me.” She then turned her phone to me and said “what do you think? Should I send that? Is it too harsh?”

I responded very directly by saying “well, if you really want to escalate things, okay, but she’s not feeling well, offered to take you out another day and has apologized multiple times…”

Clearly, I had not given the response that she had wanted to hear, because she immediately started defending her aggressive retort. She got really shrill and said “but it’s true! You have no idea how frequently she apologizes – it’s just meaningless anymore!” Rather than engage further in what had become an absurd discussion, I simply said “well, you’re a grown-ass adult, do whatever you want.”

(Now, I feel as though I need to interject here – I use this phrase all the time to my friends. I feel like it’s a way to validate their decision to do what they want to do without asking me or anyone else for permission to do so. My niece, who was witness to this exchange, hears this from me often!)

Well, instead of laughing it off, considering my response or taking it as validation & moving on, she changed the focus of her attack to me. She sneered then looked stricken, asking me what was wrong with me and asserting that I had been in a bad mood all evening. Well, I kind of lost it. Years of her neediness, absurd demands and constant dissatisfaction and dissection of even the kindest comment had piled up to break this camel’s back. I finally said something. It’s been months and I would be hard-pressed to accurately quote exactly what I said, but it was something like “hey, you asked for my opinion. Just because you didn’t like my answer doesn’t mean that I am having my period.” I said that she was so busy bitching about her friends that hadn’t shown up that she was ignoring those of us who had actually bothered to come. What happened next what the straw that broke our friendship for good. Frowning, she silently stood up. Slowly, she took the bookmark out of her book, the birthday card & pill box out of her purse and laid them down on the table. She then turned to my niece and said “Olivia, it was nice to see you again,” before standing up and shuffling to the bar at a glacially slow pace while occasionally glancing back to see if anyone was going to chase after her and beg her not to go. Nobody was. She paid her portion of the tab and walked out.

I had given this person multiple chances – far beyond what others in our mutual social scene were willing to do. I was patient, calm, honest, kind and willing to listen and examine myself. I was the only one of her friends who actually managed to show up to her birthday celebration where she chose to complain, demand, tantrum and whine instead of having fun and enjoying the people and the present moment. It was the straw that broke this camel’s back for good. I literally got up and took a picture of the abandoned card and gifts on the table. I save it as a reminder NOT to get drawn back in. NOT to forgive and cycle through the same toxic crap.  Somewhere in my “nice” Judeo-Christian upbringing, I was taught to “forgive & forget” and to “be the better man” and resolve conflict (or at least ignore that it happened and never speak of it again!) I was taught to be loyal. That marriages, friendships, relationships last forever. I was never taught how to walk away. How to disengage. How to not care. How to essentially “give up” on something that wasn’t worth doing anymore. My “play through the pain” parents never gave me an example of how to say “no” or how to say “no more.” I’m teaching myself how to set boundaries that make me feel empowered and sane instead of guilty and bad.

With “the high-maintenance friend” I feel that I wasn’t really her friend. At best, I was a bit player in her ongoing drama but usually I was just set dressing or audience for her little show. The night that she walked out of her birthday party I unfriended her on Facebook. Not as a dramatic gesture and not even as a punitive gesture. As a finality. As a very real means of cutting off the feed of something unhealthy that was draining me with its demands and not really feeding me in any way. Funny thing is? For as much as I am sarcastic and snarky? I’m a good and loyal friend who is willing to forgive a lot if the other person is willing to consider their behavior and their treatment of me. Had my former friend sent me a message saying “hey, I’m really sorry how things went down on my birthday. Can we talk?” I may have responded positively. Instead, I got this message:

Wow. Seriously? Not even a message or a text?

It was my BIRTHDAY and you were giving me a hard time. Wtf.

I didn’t feel comfortable taking your gifts. It didn’t feel right.

Your complete lack of interest in conflict resolution is so opposite from my experience of you, thus far.

 

Yeah, screw you and get used to it. No more blaming me. I’m no longer willing to be anyone’s whipping boy. I ended a marriage that was nearly as old as you are and with far less drama. I’m done.

It doesn’t hurt. I don’t miss her. Why? Because even though I was a friend to her, she wasn’t a friend to me. It’s not like giving up salt or chocolate or wine – those things feed you and make you feel good. I gave up the equivalent of emotional rice cakes. Something I felt like I ought to like but I really didn’t.

 

 

 

 

 

06
Sep
13

The Return of Pirate Bear

I covered the “Little Pirate Bear” in the blog entry “Getting Dumped by Someone I Wasn’t even Attracted to in the First Place” back in June. (https://risquedivorcee.com/2013/06/18/getting-dumped-by-someone-i-wasnt-even-attracted-to-in-the-first-place/) Essentially, this is a guy that I started getting pretty interested in and spent two sex-drenched weekends with in May before he started dating someone who was not okay with him seeing other people. He dropped me like a hot potato at the beginning of June.

Well, sometime in August he resurfaced. He had the good sense to start communication with an apology. That’s always a good idea when someone has treated you somewhat shabbily, which he admitted that he had. The thing is, I understand being smitten with someone and making concessions for them or wanting to concentrate on that relationship. I feel myself doing a bit of that myself these days.

However, Pirate Bear’s gal, from what he’s since explained, was pretty demanding and controlling and wouldn’t even “allow” him to break things off with me in person, as he had wanted to. Of course, he allowed himself to be bossed around by someone he’d known for a week, so he’s equally culpable. Regardless, they essentially moved in with each other and she seems to have proven herself to be cuckoo for cocoa puffs and he proved himself to be spineless and easily swayed by the opinions of others. Swell.

So where does the Risqué Divorcée come into play? Pretty much when shit hits the fan and the man decides he needs a rebound, I guess. I’d love to be able to say that he finally wised up and realized what he’d given up – and that may even be slightly true – but I think the man simply needs a woman to boss him around. My dad was like that. Completely adrift after my mom died – no clue what to do with himself without her guidance. I shared this with little bear when I finally agreed to meet him for a drink.

I have to admit that I was surprised when I answered the door upon his arrival. He really looked good. It had been a couple of months since I’d seen him and he appeared to have lost about 20# and was rocking some scruffy facial hair that really worked for him. Overall, he looked much more like someone that I would find physically attractive – which I hadn’t initially.

Our “date” was a lot of catching up and often felt like a therapy session. I basically told him that I forgave him (he apologized profusely and often,) and that he needed to stop beating himself up. I also said he needed to do some things for HIMSELF and not just for whomever he was dating. I told him to get a spine and to rely on himself, his interests, his kids for happiness rather than seeking it in others. I told him he needed to get his shit together before we even tried to see each other romantically – and that he had time to do that because he would be in the “penalty box” for awhile anyway! Oh, also he cried on my patio. For real. Tears. Yeah, the guy was kind of a mess & more than I was willing to take on. I don’t need anymore “projects” – I’m already working on myself!

I did agree to meet him a second time and we went to the movies and sort of held hands a bit, but no smoochies. He came back to my place and helped me fold laundry – which is weird, but was a companionable activity while we chatted. He teased me about actually putting stuff away and followed me into my bedroom with a pile of clothes. I thought: “aw, man…don’t make a pass…” and he sort of did, but it was awkward enough to deflect. Also, horrifyingly hilarious!

So, following some frank conversation about tough topics including sex and being friendly with ex-lovers (and with an armload of my folded clothes,) he said “so, you know, speaking of that, after we ah, spent those weekends together, I realized it had been awhile and I was having some trouble so I decided to go to the VA and get checked out. They did all the testing and such – full blood work panel and everything – all the bells and whistles…and ah, anyway…as it turns out…what?”

Apparently the look on my face defined “aghast” because he stopped dead in the middle of his story to ask what was wrong. Calmly, I said “and what did you find out?” He then said that he found out that some medication he was taking for blood pressure had caused his erectile dysfunction and that he switched meds so “everything’s working great now!” Woo-hoo! I then expelled the breath that I had been holding and he finally clued in to the fact that his awkward rambling about blood tests and such had made me worried that he was going to deliver some horrible news about an STD. Jesus.

I’d finally got him to quit apologizing and here he went again! I did have the grace to laugh about it in short order and I think it’s funny now anyway!

We met again for a movie last week and it was very “friend zone” – part of that is the fact that I don’t trust that he won’t do the exact same thing again if he finds someone better suited. Part of it is the fact that I am seeing someone else that I am really crazy about and I’m finding it difficult to get enthusiastic about other men right now. I have decided that I am going to do some more dating, but that’s a subject for another blog!

29
Aug
13

Upcoming topics

Yes! There will be some! My schedule changes next week and I have quite a few blogs backlogged in my head right now. Here’s what’s coming up:

  • “What Doesn’t Kill You Makes You Stronger” the ex drops a bomb that would have wiped me out not too long ago. I discover I don’t give a shit anymore.
  • “What Are You Afraid Of?”a very good question, posed by my boyfriend. Worthy of consideration and thoughtful contemplation.
  • “Butt Stuff” we haven’t talked about sex in awhile, have we? Let’s.
  • “Purging Drama” part of separating, divorcing & building a new life is letting go of the drama, co-dependency and unhealthy associations that drain you. This includes “friends” who demand too much.
  • “Overthinking vs. Thinking”something I struggle with.
  • “Bring Your A Game” does being in a poly relationship pressure you to be your best self all the time because you are always sort of “competing” for time & attention? Should it? Is this a bad thing?
  • “The Return of Little Pirate Bear” he’s back. Sorta. Not sure if he’s staying.
  • “Crossing the Streams” the pros & cons of knowing your lover’s other loves.
11
Apr
13

mr. right…now…

I don’t know where to go from here. I just wrote a rather serious bit about religion and LGBTQ and hate to continue in a melancholy direction. I feel like the next chronological place to go is with the guy that I mentioned as my “fuck buddy” in a recent blog. The one that said I think like a man when it comes to relationships. I’m afraid that one might wind up being somewhat serious as well.

As a writer I have always been the type to “mentally outline” before I put pen to paper (yes, I am that old!) When I was being taught how to write a research paper in school I was always rather affronted that we had to turn in rough drafts, outlines, note cards, etc. Now that most of us write on computers and can cut & paste and edit on the fly, these steps in “writing properly” seem even more nonsensical to me. With blogging, I find that I come up with topics that I want to cover and do just a topic list and then spend some time organizing my thoughts internally – mentally. Which is what I’ve been doing today on the subject of “that guy” – and it’s managed to make me somewhat sad.

I talked about the power of “closure” in relationships last week (read the comments after the “way back machine” blog – how awesome is that?)  It can really feel good when you are able to have an exchange that helps you achieve some sort of peace and prospective. This is especially true at the end of relationships – particularly meaningful ones. I didn’t really have that with this guy and it’s…dissatisfying.

I don’t think that I feel hurt, exactly. I think that we had run our course and that our end was imminent, but it could have gone differently.

And guess what? I’m telling it backwards. Let’s start at the beginning. (Bet you wish I used those stupid outlines right about now, aren’t you?)

Last summer was tough. Ending a marriage and redefining a 25-year relationship was intense. Add kids, money and a house full of stuff that we had to divvy up? The entire summer was stressful, painful and despite our best efforts, often filled with fights, drama and heartache. I’m proud of how we have come through it and have found a friendship on the other side, but late July/early August was the worst of it.

I want to give you the context surrounding me meeting S46. I had had sex one time in the past nine months. If you have read more than two of my blog entries you know that was a major problem for me! I had just decided it was time to start dating, had put my profile up on POF and had met or talked to a few men, but not many. I had received my first “cougar” offer from the 23-year-old tatted guy but mostly I was…learning to be alone. I was consciously doing things that I wanted to do for me and forcing myself to get out of the house from time to time.

One evening I went to the casino. It was a pretty busy night and there were lots of social players there. Also, I was winning. I had been playing a Three Kings slot then moved to another machine, hit something big and went to cash out and “fold some bills” as I like to call it. That’s when I put some money back in my wallet after winning a bit and then go back and play some more. When I came back, this guy that had been playing a few machines down from me was at the machine that I had left and I took the slot next to him. Then he started a winning streak and hit a big bonus. At some point – we started teasing each other a little bit about the fact that he had taken over “my machine” and we continued chatting for the next several hours. We move around to different machines together – making sure that there are two free together so we can keep talking.

Then conversation turned to Vegas – I had a trip coming up in a few months, he was thinking of going…are we flirting now…hmmm…I start looking at him as a man rather than just a guy I’m chatting with. He’s geeky in an “old guy” sort of way not a hipster kind. He’s wearing business clothes – charcoal dress pants, button down shirt. He’s bald with a little mustache. Not really my type, but I’m enjoying our interaction and I’m starting to pick up a little…chemistry…? In talking about where to stay in Vegas he says he stays at a friend’s condo. Then he pointedly says “if it’s not obvious why I stay at my friend’s place it’s because I’m married.” He then goes on to tell me that he asked his wife for a divorce and she suggested they should just have an open marriage so that’s what they have now. Okay, but he seems pretty bitter or at least droll about it.

Chat continues, I reveal that I am recently separated, he asks if I’m getting out much & I tell him about the “cougar encounter” with the 23-year-old earlier in the week. He says “yeah, well, I can beat that – my 52-year-old wife is out fucking her 30-year-old boyfriend.” Without missing a beat, I say “good for her. At least she didn’t have him move in with you.” This got his full attention and we talked about the pros, cons & stupidities of open marriage & poly relationships.

I’m not going to go too far into that as far as my personal history is concerned, but it is something that my ex & I tried to do during the last several years of our marriage. I think that the model of multiple relationships can really work and is something that I am basically living right now, but we did it wrong. It’s impossible to support secondary relationships when your primary is disintegrating and untended. Anyway, S46 led me to believe that he was in an open, poly marriage.

As winnings were dwindling and the evening wore on, he finally stood up and asked if I liked sushi. I answered that I did and he did a little head gesture towards the new, fancy sushi joint at the casino and indicated that I should join him. I was like “um, are you asking if I would like to have sushi right now with you? Use your words.” This pretty much set forth our communication style for the next 4 months or so.

We had a very nice dinner with good conversation. I decided that he was sort of cute after all – taller than I’d realized, nice build under the business attire, dimples, good smile, nice eyes. And hey, I was on my first date in months, right? During dinner we exchanged numbers and talked about getting together again – maybe as casino buddies.

At that point I wasn’t sure if this was a lonely married guy who was looking for someone to hang out with or what exactly, but it didn’t matter too much to me. I was happy to make new friends, but I really didn’t expect to hear from him again.

We parted ways with a handshake of all things. I really pegged him as a married guy who was uncomfortable with how far he had taken his flirtation with me. Again, I didn’t expect to hear from him again and I didn’t hear from him for a full month after that first day.

I feel like this should be the end of this blog entry. It’s already pretty long and It’s not my favorite in terms of humor or thrill factor, honestly.

I promise this one gets better…for awhile…




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