This weekend, if we were having coffee together, I would tell you that I’m more confused than ever about what’s going on in my life. There’s been plenty of good and bad news combined lately, and it seems to balance itself out. As in, the good things have been as good as the bad things are bad.
For instance, like I mentioned earlier this week, my bank account got hacked, or whatever you call it, draining my account and causing my rent check to bounce. To resolve it, I was able to take out a Teacher Appreciation Loan at a local Credit Union, and open a new account there, which seems much safer! I was able to take out enough that I was able to send a little money to my Mom to help her out, as she is always helping me out, so what was a really horrible thing turned out to be really good!
Meanwhile, it’s also allowed me to kind of spoil myself food wise. I’ve been able to treat myself to some really nummy food the last couple of days, going to places I haven’t been able to afford in months!
In fact, the Black Walnut Cafe (where I’m writing to you now) is a place I haven’t been to in over a year! I forgot how much I enjoy this place… although they were out of the wine I wanted. I got an upgrade free of charge, so it works out.
Another example of that balance, I suppose.
On the dating front, I’ve had similar issues. For instance, I did go on a bad first date (with the Marine) and he has since unmatched with me, though I could tell by the look on his face that he wasn’t impressed with me before we even spoke. When I walked in, he did a double take, and not in a good way. I think he was decidedly turned off by how tall I was… and probably how big around as well. I never said I was a small girl, but he had assumed, by the shape of my face, I assume, that I was skinny.
When I saw the way he pulled his head back in that, “I can’t believe that’s who I’m meeting” look, I almost turned around and left, but I agonized for half an hour on my outfit, and, by the Gods! I was going to get my coffee! So, I endured the hour long, very awkward, avoiding looking at each other conversation, knowing full well that I’d never hear from him again, before we’d ever even exited the building.
When he texted me afterward (I assume it was him), I didn’t even save the number.
It was that bad…
He wasn’t unattractive, but he looked like a football player, which he’d warned me about. He also sounded like a football player, deep voice, with a tiny bit of a California valley boy lilt. At any moment I expected him to pull a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles’ “dude,” or “cowabunga…”
For a man who’s primary lure was that he had a Master’s in English, his stories about how he uses the language were all in condescending ways. For example, he was telling me how his friends’ kids are always asking him for grammar help, and he begrudgingly will help them, and then will get pissy when the kids’ teacher will tell the kids that the answer is wrong.
I didn’t feel like telling him that grammar changes, which he should know since his focus was Anglo Saxon literature, which is NOTHING like our modern English. I love showing my kids the original Beowulf, and playing little snippets for them and then telling them that it is English. It tickles me greatly!
He just wasn’t really a nice guy, which is a bit surprising seeing as he was in the military and now is a firefighter. All of his stories were about how stupid people were, and how that made his job more difficult. He lacked the basic empathy of a decent human being.
And then there are things with the Pirate.
He posted this thing on Instagram (a poem of sorts) that I’m trying not to take personally. There was a while before, where I’d assumed that he’d removed all the dating apps from his phone/tablet because he felt like we were a good fit, and then I saw where he said (on Instagram, while talking to another girl) that he hadn’t found anyone worth his time… Hurtful to say the least, still makes my eyes a little watery because I think he’s worth it, but, then again, I have a habit of picking guys who don’t see me as worth the time. It’s kind of a thing with me…
So, he posted this little poem (ish) thing saying:
Yes, you are desirable, but there is a difference between need and want. As the same applies to me. Do we need each other? Do we want each other? Or, maybe it is my own delusion?
The part of me that really likes him wants it to be about me, because I like him! Really like him!
And then there’s the part of me that gets… not sure there’s a good word for it, but frustrated is close. I get frustrated at the fact that when we hang out, I have to let him talk himself out for about an hour before we can talk to each other. The first hour of our interaction is him talking AT me instead of TO me. Then we can have a conversation… sort of.
He’ll acknowledge that he’s doing all the talking, but then when I try to share my thoughts/feelings, he’ll interject and try to anticipate what I’m saying, as if I’m taking too long to express myself, or as if he already knows what I’m going to say. And sometimes he’s right, but sometimes he’s wrong.
Like he asked me about why I don’t do a particular sex act, one that I do eventually get around to, but not in the beginning, because it sets a dangerous precedent. And he interrupted me while I was trying to figure out how best to explain myself, instead of letting me decide how to respond, and then when I tried to answer the question anyway, he kept telling me I didn’t have to if I didn’t want to.
Well no shit! I don’t answer things I don’t want to answer!
Meanwhile, his reason for doing the equivalent is the same as my reason for doing it: I like the other person’s reaction… once I’ve learned how to read their reactions. But he’s a very quiet lover.
Yeah, not sure I’d admitted that we’d gone there yet, but there it is.
So, he doesn’t react much. Though he’s getting a bit more verbal, and that’s nice.
From what I can tell, his love language is touch, which is nice, very nice. But verbally, he’s a bit cold. It’s a very drastic change from the way the Bartender was.
The Bartender was always calling me Angel, and thanking me for being amazing, and telling me that I should realize how amazing and wonderful and beautiful I was because of how his body reacted to me.
The Pirate, on the other hand, has asked me to not be so intimate because that’s not what he wants, and then, when it happens anyway, tells me that it wasn’t regrettable, but that it shouldn’t have happened… or something to that effect.
Very contradictory indeed.
At the end of the day, I can’t tell what he wants, or if he’s even the slightest bit interested in me as a person. At all.
Yet, he likes all my Instagram photos, and now there’s that poem thing. It seems to mean something.
Maybe I just want it to mean something.
I don’t know.
It’s early yet. Only time will tell.