I Just Wanted to Apologize…4 years too late

Your love was an action I ignored. I see now that your faith in me was as strong as I am stubborn. You craved my words; I avoided yours. I refused to see that in each text  you were still thinking of me, loving me even when you were not next to me. I was just too scared to be left alone. I was immature, insecure… vulnerable.  So, I blamed you; I lost faith in us because I never believed in myself, alone.

Bad Dating: The Corn Flake

This story is short, but not so sweet. It is pretty much a fool me twice situation. With that said, he can’t get all of the credit for this story; I was dumb enough to give him a second shot.

So here goes: Guy messages me on a dating site and says “hey, I think that I follow you on Twitter.” Look him up and he’s right. Ha! Small world blah blah blah chatter… and we agree to meet.

We meet at a bar. Date starts slow, awkwardly, but after a few drinks he loosens up, conversation flows easier and I find that I’m having a great time. It escalates quickly, but no complaints. The next morning I’m on a flight to Vegas and he texts; I’m thinking things are cool. While on my trip however he goes silent. Irritating as fuck, but nothing I can do about it. I drunk text something about decency and respect before deleting his number and moving on.

Months later, same dude messages me on same site. I respond (like a fucking dumb ass). We chit chat. He asks if I want to get dinner; I hesitate, so we keep chatting. He asks again until I submit. We make plans, but of course he conveniently disappears when we are supposed to hang out because… why wouldn’t he? A flake is a flake. A fool (me) is a fool. It’s amazing the games people play with others to, what, get off or boost their self-esteem? I won’t speculate too much, but I cannot help but wonder sometimes what in the actual fuck is wrong with people. Myself included.

Bad Dating: Part… Eleventy Seven

Sadly, I have lost count of my bad dates at this point. I would wave the white flag if I truly believed that I was done dating, but I know that I am not. I want to experience a life long partnership and love; I know that it is not a necessity to survival, but alone sucks sometimes. Really. I don’t NEED a man. I KNOW that much, but that doesn’t change the fact that I want one around every once in a while (read: fairly often)… and therein lies the problem. Whether I am in pursuit or laying low, I keep meeting men that I wouldn’t mind getting to know. I keep agreeing to dates, but I swear that the dates just get more ridiculous. No matter how I meet these man-boys, no matter what “type” they are, they all wind up proving my theory correct… that my type is “jerk.”

Let me be clear, I am not calling the men jerks because they didn’t stick around to pursue a relationship with me. I do not resort to name calling because it makes me feel better about myself. I say, with sincerity, that the guys I find myself attracted to and involved with are inevitably the biggest jerks on the planet. Whatever pheromones I’m putting out in the universe attract the bottom feeders of the dating pool and I somehow cannot break the cycle. I took the entire month of April off of dating, but that didn’t seem to turn my luck around.

This past week I met up with a girl friend for dinner, but while waiting for her, I made eye contact with a kind of cute guy across the bar. He later sauntered over and offered to buy us drinks, got my number and told me that he would like to take me out the following evening for dinner. Physically, he was not what I would would go for, but the interaction at the bar, albeit brief, wasn’t forced or awkward… it was organic. I was feeling it. I have been more open minded about dating men that don’t fit any particular mold outside of “seemingly nice” lately. Since he seemed sweet and I had nothing better planned, I agreed to meet him.

As much as I hate to admit it, dinner went… fabulously. Conversation flowed easily; he was smart, witty and charming. At the end of the evening, he was not pushy or expectant. He didn’t show the typical signs of a “traveling man.” He simply kissed me goodnight and told me that he would be back in town very soon and looked forward to seeing me again if I was interested. I responded in kind, but I had mentally prepared myself to believe that one dinner was all it was ever going to be. Set the expectations low and let him surprise me if he so desired, but it wasn’t required. I had a really good time and that’s where it was meant to end. It was one of those dates that would restore my faith in dating; it was EXACTLY what I needed at that moment. I didn’t need anything else. I truly believed that I would not hear from him again and I was absolutely, completely OK with that fact.

Needless to say, I was surprised to hear from him several days later. Maybe I was a little happy to hear from him, but my happiness/surprise was very short lived. He was not calling to see how my week had turned out. He was calling because he felt guilty for lying to me and felt that he owed it to me to be honest… about having a girlfriend. Well, shucks mister. Thanks so much for considering ME in that conscience clearing, but, you know, it’d be a whole lot cooler if you a) had just left me the fuck alone in the first place, or b) had at least just disappeared like a decent fucking jerk does. Gah… a jerk can’t even get being a jerk right. I swear.

I Leave You to Dig Alone

I stopped dreaming of what could be.

Kicked my feet up; I just sit back
spectating… 
as these holes we sink in grow. 
Grow deeper, darker and devoid of truth.
Why even bother with the climb out now?
I might fight to drive half a smile, 
but only if caught, or maybe advised, 
and just to depict a sense of “fine” 
for those who need not know 
that the smiles we hide behind 
are the only uses we have for one another now.
Remember all of the secrets you keep while I slumber beside you, my sweet.

Know that I keep one eye open, 
trained on the darkness, that deep, just to see how far you can dig us on your own.
Hoping an avalanche will finally come
and swallow this lie that we live on. 

Don’t Love Another

Though years may add great distance
to an already insurmountable divide,
on far fetched paths hope still travels
where on such journeys a heart may abide.

In your favor, my own still resides
waiting, wild as ever, for your return
and it aches for a voluntary reply
to either reunite, or of absolute denial.

Was, in fact, the flame fully extinguished?
Were the ashes then spread at goodbye?
Or does an ember faintly still flicker,
but is it blind to a wanting eye?

If your answer does not favor me,
or is of a certain, finite duality,
do not allow your actions to refute
your words as final, absolute truth.

What I Wished You Hadn’t said

The winds have all grown silent again
no more whispers through the leaves
that fall atop the harshly beaten limbs
that crashed to ground after the storm
has raged and angrily brought them down.

The bark sags, wetted by the rains
that washed away the layers hiding
stains of memories decaying the mind
with pains of happiest of times-
before sorrow broke the silence with goodbye.

What I Felt Then and How I Feel Now

Your breath tasted hoppy and sweet
as you pressed your lips into me
forcing me to breathe you in, to drink
the lingering hints of your brew.
I was unprepared for such exchange.
A shake of hands, a hug, an “I’ll call you again”
would have sufficed, but a kiss?
I am left to surmise if interest exists,
or if it was just a progression of wits
and if I have just lost my own!
From it came a display of shattered light
that claimed my head, heart, my sight.
Left me reeling still from what might
be most wanted, sure, such has been my plight
but hope it to be real and to be right.