Thanks to everyone who likes and follows my blog. It’s for my own self-therapy, but knowing others share in my dating madness brings me some sort of odd solace.
My last post, about not hesitating too long, well that was a joke. I basically missed out on a great Kate Spade purse, that’s it. I gave Joe a chance and he didn’t last more than 5 days. Joe is what I like to call A Wise Old Horn Ball. He was old enough to know better, but horny enough to screw up like a teenager on a porn site. Joe would text throughout the day like an old man going out to get his mail in socks and crocs, but in the evening he wanted to have non-stop nasty talk. I’m definitely not a prude; I’m not against talking any which way with someone I become intimate with, but I hadn’t even talked to this Joe Schmoe on the phone yet let alone met him in person. Sorry buddy, if I don’t know the sound of your voice, I’m not texting about what I want you to do to me in the sheets. Flirting is just fine, but sex talk with a stranger is disturbing. Ugh.
I said all of this to him directly. I even said “hey, we could talk on the phone, I don’t know what your voice sounds like.” But did he want to talk on the phone? No, he wanted to continue texting about what types of things I might say to him when we dated of course. I finally went off on him, and he responded in a joking manner, and then I never texted Joe again. And likewise, he never attempted to text me again. So there, we ghosted each other.
Relief at its finest.
I have basically been on one date a month since May through September. I think it’s time to hibernate again. No seriously, it’s getting ridiculous. Although, the last time I took a 5-month dating hiatus, I came back to a worse dating scene than what I’d first encountered.
The time to date is in your 20s and early 30s. Beyond that, I feel like I’ve missed a main window of opportunity. Clearly I married badly. I have learned, and am still learning from that mistake. I love my children and will go to the ends of the earth to ensure they continue to have a good childhood. They will likely blame me for things I’m doing now when they’re older. Bring it on, no one is perfect. They’ll realize I’m not so bad when they have their own children, just like I realized about my own parents.
My dad met the love of his life after being married to my mom for 14 years and then being divorced for 7 years. He has now been happily-ever-after married to my wonderful stepmom for 22 years. They met through a mutual friend at a funeral. There were no dating sites then. He called her up, asked her out, they went on a date, and they became engaged 3 months later. She was 43 and he was 46. I have not been to any funerals to find dates – there’s a thought.
My mom met the love of her life after being married to my dad for 14 years. She married her second husband 4 years later. She was married to husband #2 for 7 years. They divorced, then she ended up with husband #3. It basically took her an extra 11 years after her first divorce to find her happily-ever-after. This year she’ll have been happily married to #3 for 15 years. They were each other’s “3rd time’s a charm” spouse. She worked with all three husbands at one point. I don’t plan on meeting any future husband at my work, no thanks.
I was married for 10 years, and have been divorced for 4 years, separated for 5. I waited over 3 years to even think about dating, and it has gotten me… nowhere. I’ve had one short-term relationship and have gone out with exactly 6 more guys after that. None of them have lasted more than 3 weeks without showing true colors that were a non-negotiable for me. I’ve met some interesting fellas, but I’d never want to wake up to any of them for the rest of my life.
If I was in a my 20 or 30s, this would be humorous. But I’m 43. I do not want anymore children, so there’s no rush there. I simply want a partner in crime for the rest of my life that is left. It’s half over, I’d like to make the second half count big time. Sometimes I feel like I’m doing something wrong. The dating sites, distance, boundaries, whatever… And other days, I think I’m just not supposed to be with anyone yet. Or ever?
When I think about my parents and the aftermath of their divorce, they were each miserable. I can honestly say that I’m not miserable. I’m fairly content. They each didn’t get their happy back until they ended up with their now significant others. I feel like I’m in a good place the majority of the time. I know no one needs someone, but I sure do think we all should have a special someone who knows us well and cares damnit. There I go fantasizing again.
I’ve noticed that Orange Jeep Guy hasn’t been over at Crazy Angela’s house lately. In fact, this weekend, I saw a black truck and a new guy hanging around. My son was over talking to them at one point, and I went over to retrieve my very talkative son from intruding on their business. This new guy was smoking and they both smiled meekly at me. Black Truck Guy had apparently replaced Orange Jeep Guy. It explained why I heard Crazy Angela screaming in her backyard a couple of weeks ago.
As I walked back into my own yard from Crazy Angela’s yard, all of my dating woes evaporated. I originally had been jealous of Angela when Orange Jeep Guy, but now I see that Angela is in the same boat as me. She’s trying to find the best match for her. I couldn’t help but think at least my neighbors aren’t tracking what vehicles are in my driveway last and for how long. I’ve just been doing my thing, not advertising myself directly or indirectly to anyone. Just minding my business. I’m still open to having a special someone, but I’m not willing to settle or waste my time on anyone for too long if I have that gut feeling. I guess the consequence of that is not the worst thing in the world. I will just continue to water my new fall mums and figure out how I want to display my new mini pumpkins in my yard.
I will also continue to quickly peek in my dating app for any fresh man meat, and then promptly re-pause it when I see the same batch of familiar faces that I’m not interested in starting a conversation with…
Stifle Me Not