TODAY CAME WITH AN ARRAY OF EMOTIONS AND TONIGHT I CANT SLEEP. I gotta get some of this out of my head so my body can rest.
The story I wrote this morning gave me some clarity. When I called the handyman to coordinate work stuff today and he asked how I was; I wasn’t fine. I was distant. I was hurt. I was uncomfortable with where we were but I wasn’t willing to leave him hanging.
When we met it was similar. I wasn’t overly affectionate like a cat purring at his legs begging for attention. I was focused. I wanted to get some shit done. Make a plan and be sure we were moving his stuff in the right direction. I wanted to reduce his overall stress and get on with my day.
He turned the conversation back to us. He apologized. He owned his failure. He reconciled. He acknowledged that reading the description of how he felt and what he was hoping for in 2017 when he really started dating chucks mistress - that same statement could be made about me and he knew it. He realized he was an idiot. He understood he was pushing me away; self sabotaging the good thing our relationship was in his life.
He gave me what I needed validation and an apology with an assurance of changes behavior. Then he asked me to go to the gym and I happily agreed.
When I took him back to the job site after these conversations- I said did we just get back together with out the caveat that you can’t be accountable to this real relationship. He said, I think we did.
He thanked me for staying. For not letting him destroy us.
So after work, we went to the gym.
I loath the gym but he LOVES it. He’s like a kid in a playground. He could spend all damn day there. I can barely walk in the door without having a panic attack. But I love everything we do together and the gym is one of those things. The first time we went I was an anxious wreck. I complained. It hurt. He patiently made me keep going. The second time we went it was better. I was super self conscious of my arms in the mirror and the way I looked. But a week later, I wanted to go.
I wanted to do this with him. I like the way he works out with me. We don’t go do our own things. I force him to do legs and he makes me really do squats. I am so proud to run around that place with my smoking hot man that lovingly smiles at me while I work out with him.
I want the endorphins and the muscle definition and the slimmer waste line so bad. I want to show him my work ethic can be tailored into really good habits. That the way I’ve become complacent and lethargic with my physical health is something that I want to fix. That i will see his passion for fitness and be a worthy partner in that.
I’ve needed someone to push me to this for a long long while. So the gym. The physical activity that we do together running around there for an hour and half was the bonding time I needed. It was what I wanted to do with my night.
Then we ate salads and parted ways. Him to his house to spend some time with his boy and me to mine to take a hot bath and veg out.
We’ve been texting and our conversation turned back to our good day. Then to my blog. He read it. Then he responded with more of a confession than I needed but I think he felt like I deserved some validation in being right even when it was something I didn’t want to be right about. He said he’d do whatever I need. So I told him. I need it gone. I need to never speak of it again. I need the cougar out of both of our lives. He said done. That he was done hurting me with his selfishness. No more of this. Then he said I choose you and I love you.
That’s what I need. I need chosen. Today and tomorrow and the day after that. I need him to take one day at a time choosing me. Choosing joy. Choosing us. I need him to see our value past this season.
So tonight and today and moving into tomorrow; we are still in this thing together. We are still pushing forward. Throwing away the broken bricks and building our foundation with the lessons learned and promises we plan to keep.
Today was a good day and I’m glad I haven’t gotten off this ride too soon.
Thursday, January 23, 2020
Welcome to My Diary
WHAT HAVE I DONE!? I have been writing this blog since 2011. I have poured life lessons and huge mistakes into this thing. I have changed the url twice when it has accidentally been found. I have screenshot stories in the past and sent them to people. I have read them to men I was dating when I felt my written insight would best explain, well ME. But I have never NEVER given access of this to a man.
In fact I know which girlfriends can read this. I am specific. I am intentional. This is the most vulnerable part of me. My writing. I tell you my patterns of behavior here. The way I love. The way I hurt. The way I have ended things or began things of royally fucked things up. This blog has anxiety and fear and life lessons.
So why in the HELL did I send the website to the Handyman? Instant fear. Instant regret.
So he’ll read this. Hi boo! But not just this, all of it. The pattern of older men in my twenties that has only been tweaked slightly in my 30s. The way I have loved and lost and been broken and rebuilt on the heels of one night stands, feeding my shattered ego, broken hearted. How Mr Toilet was the love of my life and the standard I held every man too until a year ago when I finally got the closure I’d been desperately seeking since I was 26. There are high school stories. My first kiss and sexual assault. There are mean girl moments and friendships over in this blog. There are whole years I skip writing because I can’t even face the stories. I didn’t write a single post about my kardashian marriage or the sex addict until it was over. Years I skipped investing in my mental health by processing trauma this way. And now he can read it.
When I said do you want to see my journal, laying in bed last night? The offer came because he was sharing his. He had screenshot some hand written pages about the end of his first marriage and the beginning of dating Chuck’s Mistress. The pain in parts and the excitement of new opportunities to fall in love and find your person. The desire for the partner to build his passions with, it was there. I love the vulnerability he shows me when he shares things like this and I feel the pain when I know he’s facing it.
It only seemed fair to reciprocate. To open up my past and my heart and say here I am. You pretty much know all this but now you can see it in real time. Go back to 2011 and start this journey and see how my type hasn’t really changed. I still date extremely driven, mostly entrepreneurial minded men, older but not by like a decade. I keep it closer to my age. I have the same love language of acts of service and words of affirmation. I recently learned never married and no kids is a lack of life experience I would just prefer not to deal with; so still dads. I also don’t worry about crazy exes any more. I don’t like the drama. If an ex is crazy, I am more likely to ask what did YOU do than to believe she is just off her rocker. I’m someone’s “crazy ex” I’m sure.
See my pattern of men falling in love with me, or at least thinking they do. Explore my fear of not trusting that because I hear it so often. All the things I tell him; he can now read for himself and I somehow will remain this open book mentally processing my fear and experiences for him to see.
I need to wrap my head around some stuff and I truly don’t want to blog about it. I don’t want to write about how disappointing our weekend trip to ski was, or how the tagged posts of him on my page caused drama. It’s easy to explain the part that it gives him anxiety “being in a relationship” in public while still navigating a divorce. I understand that his attorney’s instructions were only posts about work, family, kids. But truly it’s the other woman/or maybe it’s women that he engages in conversation and most recently more with - that he doesn’t want me to find out. He doesn’t want them to know there is a girl he calls his girlfriend. And this weekend - she found me and she did what all women do when they feel wronged. She told me about them in hopes of hurting him back and driving us a part.
The flash back of Facebook and Instagram requests and messages was a hard one. It was a consistent part of my relationship with the sex addict. I can’t tell you how many confessions of wrong doings I had to navigate. How many times i would ask, did you sleep with her? To listen to the “no” and know it was a yes. I can’t count the number of those times I was complicit in being lied to... and here I am again.
The Handyman fell hard and fast. Classic. He fell too soon. Before he has journeyed through healing and processed his pain. He isn’t divorced. He still has his wife’s initial tattooed on his ring finger in a truly white trash way. He is deeply mourning the loss of his forever. The person he thought was his partner for the rest of his life. He’s facing the lies of her infidelity. He’s navigating the pain and trying to understand how someone he loves so much could do so much damage. He’s broken and there are just glimpses of his former self in there and a tiny indication of the way he will emerge from this trauma.
He’s a good one. I know he is. I see it. He loves me well in a lot of ways I really don’t want to lose. We match in passion and language. We communicate calmly and effectively. When facing the hard conversations there is very little fight and mostly a back and forth battle of wits. It’s all I see you, I hear you, I understand how you feel, here is my take on that. Here is my desired outcome of this disagreement. We don’t say hurtful things. We don’t storm away in anger but sometimes take space so that hurtful words aren’t the reaction.
But this trip. This trip broke my heart. It was dramatic and ugly. When he’s asked how was it, the lies just flow out. It was great skiing. Weather was good. House is nice. Blah blah blah.
No I got literally dumped on a mountain when he had to face the lies he was telling me and some recently divorced client he finds “interesting”. He hurt me. He lied to me. Then he skied away from the half way point bar where we were having cocktails. Then he said I don’t want to do this, I can’t be in a relationship when I caught up to him. Then he left me on the mountain as he raced away saying - this is over. I’m done. I want out. Only to text a little later and say I need an hour to calm down. I’ll find you at 4.
He didn’t care that I spent $200 of my single mom salary to be on that mountain. That I didn’t let him pay for my ticket of my skis because he already had paid for my meals and my gas to be there. He didn’t care it wasn’t me that didn’t do anything to him. That I wasn’t yelling, I wasn’t hateful. I was hurt. This man tells me he loves me. Then sometimes he doesn’t - he texts women who feed his ego and then this cougar comes along and god only knows. But she’s convinced he owes her a conversation to save their relationship. She’s convinced he is racing home to see her. And I am fucking devastated.
See the man I fell for and reciprocated the love has a very similar past to mine. He’s been shattered by infidelity. He’s had trust irreparably damages. He’s been the significant other that had his world shaken by lies and deceit. He has felt this pain. So why? How? Could he do this to me. AND more importantly how do I let him?
You see as he tells me I’m going to hurt you. I’m not myself. I love you as best I can and I’m really trying to be who you need and deserve but I’m just not. I miss chucks mistress. I am mad and still love the crazy bitch. I don’t know why I need my ego stroked by these other women. This isn’t me. This shouldn’t be me.
Then my mind goes back to the pain and the trauma. My mind finds a way to allow him grace and forgiveness because I understand feeding your ego with sex and attention. My mind assured him this isn’t him long term. That these are traumatic responses trying to navigate the story he’s telling himself. It’s how he is needing to understand the pain and deception. He is walking and acting like the thing that hurt him most in the world trying to understand it because he needs closure and he can’t get that from her. She isn’t confessing her sins and explaining her past and pain to him. She isn’t begging for forgiveness and offering changes. Honest looks at who she is and why she hurts the men who love her. She isn’t examining her patterns. So he is becoming them in an effort to repair his broken psyche. His broken heart and his shattered ego.
I know this well and I keep thinking this is a season. The shame you feel from lying to me and cheating on me. The heartbreak you feel by hurting me the same way you have been hurt - it means you aren’t a monster. The lies are because you can’t even face how bad you are going against every fiber of your being. The lies aren’t to protect me, so I don’t know you fucked this older women in her million dollars mansion you were “bidding”. The lies are because you can’t even face that you woke up at my house made love to me, told me you loved me, kissed me good bye, and went to work - that I spent hours of my day helping you with. Running errands. Running projects. Picking up things. Installing chandeliers. Cleaning up after sink installs. Finding parts and holding fans and keeping you focused and on task. That in the middle of that day - looking at the TRR bid - you fucked some other bitch behind my back.
I should clarify - I don’t know that he did. He hasn’t admitted it. He’s a horrible liar with a tell. He stays silent when I’m right. He doesn’t defend himself. If forced to answer directly he says no. But it’s not true. Now the when, the how, the how long, it’s speculation based in the massive amount of time we spend together and how long this cougar has been in his life. A week maybe two. It’s gaging her response to finding out about me. It’s more than some flirty texts. It’s more than a kiss or a drink. Women don’t just freak out for no reason.
So he is lying to me and I’m devastated. This man, although I knew he wasn’t truly ready. I thought he was a really good one. I thought he loved Jesus and loved people. I thought his promise to be careful with my heart as he navigated his own pain was real. I believed him when he cried and wanted all of this to be real. Wanted to believe I was who he thought I was. I read his actions. Buying a new truck for his business and giving his suburban while I was stressed for a car. Going to Napa and treating me like a princess. I believed the raw openness. In working together - I believed the desire for a future and a partnership with a real person that was fun and easy. I believed him and in less than a week he has wrecked us.
He has stripped me of all security. He has told me he doesn’t trust himself. He isn’t even processing pain at this point; he’s actually creating more. He’s becoming a version of him that he can’t possibly respect. He isn’t in the word. He has some how gotten so far behind in work that he is stressed to the max and I don’t want to leave him hanging. I don’t want to leave him trying to get 6 bids out and working. He let go of his office staff which didn’t help with this much anyway but he kinda needs me and he needs to be able to pay me in hot sex and fancy dinners. While he rebuilds and gets this business back on track.
But man I don’t know how much I can take. I don’t know how crazy I’ll get wondering where he is or who he’s with and reliving sexual encounters at job sites. I don’t know if I can stomach much more of this and that’s ok. He is pretty aware that I don’t have a lot in me. He knows he’s pushing me away. He says I’m everything he WILL want when he’s ready but right now he’s in survival mode and feeding me and investing in us. That’s not something he is capable of to the degree I want or need right now.
Why am I in this?
How did I get here?
Men suck. He sucks. Women suck. Women who break men suck. Men who then turn around and break me suck. This cycle sucks. Why do I feel whole and healed and deserving and I choose fucking brokenness. I’m going to call my therapist.
In fact I know which girlfriends can read this. I am specific. I am intentional. This is the most vulnerable part of me. My writing. I tell you my patterns of behavior here. The way I love. The way I hurt. The way I have ended things or began things of royally fucked things up. This blog has anxiety and fear and life lessons.
So why in the HELL did I send the website to the Handyman? Instant fear. Instant regret.
So he’ll read this. Hi boo! But not just this, all of it. The pattern of older men in my twenties that has only been tweaked slightly in my 30s. The way I have loved and lost and been broken and rebuilt on the heels of one night stands, feeding my shattered ego, broken hearted. How Mr Toilet was the love of my life and the standard I held every man too until a year ago when I finally got the closure I’d been desperately seeking since I was 26. There are high school stories. My first kiss and sexual assault. There are mean girl moments and friendships over in this blog. There are whole years I skip writing because I can’t even face the stories. I didn’t write a single post about my kardashian marriage or the sex addict until it was over. Years I skipped investing in my mental health by processing trauma this way. And now he can read it.
When I said do you want to see my journal, laying in bed last night? The offer came because he was sharing his. He had screenshot some hand written pages about the end of his first marriage and the beginning of dating Chuck’s Mistress. The pain in parts and the excitement of new opportunities to fall in love and find your person. The desire for the partner to build his passions with, it was there. I love the vulnerability he shows me when he shares things like this and I feel the pain when I know he’s facing it.
It only seemed fair to reciprocate. To open up my past and my heart and say here I am. You pretty much know all this but now you can see it in real time. Go back to 2011 and start this journey and see how my type hasn’t really changed. I still date extremely driven, mostly entrepreneurial minded men, older but not by like a decade. I keep it closer to my age. I have the same love language of acts of service and words of affirmation. I recently learned never married and no kids is a lack of life experience I would just prefer not to deal with; so still dads. I also don’t worry about crazy exes any more. I don’t like the drama. If an ex is crazy, I am more likely to ask what did YOU do than to believe she is just off her rocker. I’m someone’s “crazy ex” I’m sure.
See my pattern of men falling in love with me, or at least thinking they do. Explore my fear of not trusting that because I hear it so often. All the things I tell him; he can now read for himself and I somehow will remain this open book mentally processing my fear and experiences for him to see.
I need to wrap my head around some stuff and I truly don’t want to blog about it. I don’t want to write about how disappointing our weekend trip to ski was, or how the tagged posts of him on my page caused drama. It’s easy to explain the part that it gives him anxiety “being in a relationship” in public while still navigating a divorce. I understand that his attorney’s instructions were only posts about work, family, kids. But truly it’s the other woman/or maybe it’s women that he engages in conversation and most recently more with - that he doesn’t want me to find out. He doesn’t want them to know there is a girl he calls his girlfriend. And this weekend - she found me and she did what all women do when they feel wronged. She told me about them in hopes of hurting him back and driving us a part.
The flash back of Facebook and Instagram requests and messages was a hard one. It was a consistent part of my relationship with the sex addict. I can’t tell you how many confessions of wrong doings I had to navigate. How many times i would ask, did you sleep with her? To listen to the “no” and know it was a yes. I can’t count the number of those times I was complicit in being lied to... and here I am again.
The Handyman fell hard and fast. Classic. He fell too soon. Before he has journeyed through healing and processed his pain. He isn’t divorced. He still has his wife’s initial tattooed on his ring finger in a truly white trash way. He is deeply mourning the loss of his forever. The person he thought was his partner for the rest of his life. He’s facing the lies of her infidelity. He’s navigating the pain and trying to understand how someone he loves so much could do so much damage. He’s broken and there are just glimpses of his former self in there and a tiny indication of the way he will emerge from this trauma.
He’s a good one. I know he is. I see it. He loves me well in a lot of ways I really don’t want to lose. We match in passion and language. We communicate calmly and effectively. When facing the hard conversations there is very little fight and mostly a back and forth battle of wits. It’s all I see you, I hear you, I understand how you feel, here is my take on that. Here is my desired outcome of this disagreement. We don’t say hurtful things. We don’t storm away in anger but sometimes take space so that hurtful words aren’t the reaction.
But this trip. This trip broke my heart. It was dramatic and ugly. When he’s asked how was it, the lies just flow out. It was great skiing. Weather was good. House is nice. Blah blah blah.
No I got literally dumped on a mountain when he had to face the lies he was telling me and some recently divorced client he finds “interesting”. He hurt me. He lied to me. Then he skied away from the half way point bar where we were having cocktails. Then he said I don’t want to do this, I can’t be in a relationship when I caught up to him. Then he left me on the mountain as he raced away saying - this is over. I’m done. I want out. Only to text a little later and say I need an hour to calm down. I’ll find you at 4.
He didn’t care that I spent $200 of my single mom salary to be on that mountain. That I didn’t let him pay for my ticket of my skis because he already had paid for my meals and my gas to be there. He didn’t care it wasn’t me that didn’t do anything to him. That I wasn’t yelling, I wasn’t hateful. I was hurt. This man tells me he loves me. Then sometimes he doesn’t - he texts women who feed his ego and then this cougar comes along and god only knows. But she’s convinced he owes her a conversation to save their relationship. She’s convinced he is racing home to see her. And I am fucking devastated.
See the man I fell for and reciprocated the love has a very similar past to mine. He’s been shattered by infidelity. He’s had trust irreparably damages. He’s been the significant other that had his world shaken by lies and deceit. He has felt this pain. So why? How? Could he do this to me. AND more importantly how do I let him?
You see as he tells me I’m going to hurt you. I’m not myself. I love you as best I can and I’m really trying to be who you need and deserve but I’m just not. I miss chucks mistress. I am mad and still love the crazy bitch. I don’t know why I need my ego stroked by these other women. This isn’t me. This shouldn’t be me.
Then my mind goes back to the pain and the trauma. My mind finds a way to allow him grace and forgiveness because I understand feeding your ego with sex and attention. My mind assured him this isn’t him long term. That these are traumatic responses trying to navigate the story he’s telling himself. It’s how he is needing to understand the pain and deception. He is walking and acting like the thing that hurt him most in the world trying to understand it because he needs closure and he can’t get that from her. She isn’t confessing her sins and explaining her past and pain to him. She isn’t begging for forgiveness and offering changes. Honest looks at who she is and why she hurts the men who love her. She isn’t examining her patterns. So he is becoming them in an effort to repair his broken psyche. His broken heart and his shattered ego.
I know this well and I keep thinking this is a season. The shame you feel from lying to me and cheating on me. The heartbreak you feel by hurting me the same way you have been hurt - it means you aren’t a monster. The lies are because you can’t even face how bad you are going against every fiber of your being. The lies aren’t to protect me, so I don’t know you fucked this older women in her million dollars mansion you were “bidding”. The lies are because you can’t even face that you woke up at my house made love to me, told me you loved me, kissed me good bye, and went to work - that I spent hours of my day helping you with. Running errands. Running projects. Picking up things. Installing chandeliers. Cleaning up after sink installs. Finding parts and holding fans and keeping you focused and on task. That in the middle of that day - looking at the TRR bid - you fucked some other bitch behind my back.
I should clarify - I don’t know that he did. He hasn’t admitted it. He’s a horrible liar with a tell. He stays silent when I’m right. He doesn’t defend himself. If forced to answer directly he says no. But it’s not true. Now the when, the how, the how long, it’s speculation based in the massive amount of time we spend together and how long this cougar has been in his life. A week maybe two. It’s gaging her response to finding out about me. It’s more than some flirty texts. It’s more than a kiss or a drink. Women don’t just freak out for no reason.
So he is lying to me and I’m devastated. This man, although I knew he wasn’t truly ready. I thought he was a really good one. I thought he loved Jesus and loved people. I thought his promise to be careful with my heart as he navigated his own pain was real. I believed him when he cried and wanted all of this to be real. Wanted to believe I was who he thought I was. I read his actions. Buying a new truck for his business and giving his suburban while I was stressed for a car. Going to Napa and treating me like a princess. I believed the raw openness. In working together - I believed the desire for a future and a partnership with a real person that was fun and easy. I believed him and in less than a week he has wrecked us.
He has stripped me of all security. He has told me he doesn’t trust himself. He isn’t even processing pain at this point; he’s actually creating more. He’s becoming a version of him that he can’t possibly respect. He isn’t in the word. He has some how gotten so far behind in work that he is stressed to the max and I don’t want to leave him hanging. I don’t want to leave him trying to get 6 bids out and working. He let go of his office staff which didn’t help with this much anyway but he kinda needs me and he needs to be able to pay me in hot sex and fancy dinners. While he rebuilds and gets this business back on track.
But man I don’t know how much I can take. I don’t know how crazy I’ll get wondering where he is or who he’s with and reliving sexual encounters at job sites. I don’t know if I can stomach much more of this and that’s ok. He is pretty aware that I don’t have a lot in me. He knows he’s pushing me away. He says I’m everything he WILL want when he’s ready but right now he’s in survival mode and feeding me and investing in us. That’s not something he is capable of to the degree I want or need right now.
Why am I in this?
How did I get here?
Men suck. He sucks. Women suck. Women who break men suck. Men who then turn around and break me suck. This cycle sucks. Why do I feel whole and healed and deserving and I choose fucking brokenness. I’m going to call my therapist.
Monday, January 13, 2020
Love and Loss and Love Again
I AM STRUGGLING WITH THE HANDYMAN OR MAYBE HE IS STRUGGLING WITH ME. His ex is a combination of my last two significant relationships. She’s a narcissistic cheating sociopath with an incessant need for attention and a pattern of behavior he overlooked.
Chuck’s Mistress has wrecked this man. She has taken all of his pieces and made him question everything. Who he is, what he knows, what he wants, what he is capable of. She took from him personally, in business, financially, and almost cost him his children. She’s the devil.
I don’t even call her The Devil maliciously, it’s an accurate description. She is a pretty package. She’s obviously driven or they wouldn’t have built the companies they have and she’s continuing to run them albeit most likely into the ground. She is attractive. Good little figure, fake tits, classic face. She’s a mom. Surely she’s a good one. I feel like good mother can be a relative term, but that a whole other story. She has a lot of “friends” and acquaintances, he says she was so fun with a magnetic personality.
She’s a pretty package but who she is under that; that’s what makes her the devil. You see the devil is a pretty package. In Christian faith we are taught that - you aren’t tempted into sin by things that aren’t attractive. You don’t go against your faith or hurt other people or yourself for something you don’t desire. It’s a pretty hot and tempting package - the devil.
The devil comes to steal, kill, and destroy. Chuck’s mistress may not have set out to do those things but as the temptation for better or more presented itself she went for it. She fed her needs at the expense of others. She fed the wolf inside her that needed men to want her, that weaponized sex, the one that justified her satisfaction at the expense of her promises with, if he doesn’t know it doesn’t hurt. She got to the point where even if he did know it was ok; he wanted her happy. She compartmentalized who she was as a person. Part loving wife and mother; part out right whore and liar.
As you can imagine; I get this. I lived this. I have been broken by this exact thing. She cloaks herself in righteousness, claiming God loves her and being a part of her church. She is a Jesus loving woman that will screw your friends husband.
Enough about her; you get the picture and Devil is an accurate depiction.
I don’t know who The Handyman was before her. I don’t know his patterns or what she used to justify her behavior. He’s a man. He isn’t perfect. I don’t know the trail of broken hearts or the women who fell hard for him that he didn’t reciprocate. I don’t know the dynamic. I know him now.
This kind of betrayal, changes you. It is a humbling experience. It changes your perception of what you should value. You become more concerned about character, loyalty, faith, honesty, trustworthiness than you are about big tits and a good blow job.
So I am getting the raw version of this man. The one that tears up when he feels really loved and connected to me. The one that carries the pain of disappointing and hurting his boys and family. The man that deeply desires a relationship with God and wants that as his foundation. The man that is working hard to rebuild and start over.
He cares for me and calms me. He tries so hard to be what I need and what I want. He hates that his pain and healing isn’t complete. He hates that he is simultaneously getting past her and falling for me.
He runs from me. He gets so worried about hurting me that he pushes me away. He comes back because it’s not like he’s not going to date. So what’s his plan, end things with me and find someone he likes LESS. Date a girl he doesn’t really connect with.
He still gets sad. I know he misses the life he had. The family unit they had created. How could you not. He isn’t a monster.
He asks me why I’m here; why I’m doing this to myself and I don’t have a good answer. I am not trying to fix him. I know I can’t. I have walked this process and it’s something he has to do for himself. I don’t see him as a project, I just see him.
I know their relationship is over. It’s irreparable. I know he is wired for love and connection, that he is vulnerable and some lucky woman will have him and he will love her in the most passionate, selfless way. I know this because I know he loves me. He tells me but more importantly he shows me. So when he asks why am I here? My response is usually because I’m not losing what we have to the memory of Chucks mistress.
I might be totally wrong but I do believe you can build a new relationship on top of the ruins of the last. I read this in an article and I can’t come up with a better way of articulating it “The importance of getting over someone is a myth.” “We should encourage each other to hold on to the good memories.” “It is possible, I think, to have a new relationship that builds on top of the gravelly ruins of the last using the old skills and affection to make the next one better, bigger.” “Good relationships can totally benefit from the reflection and melancholy that comes after heartbreak, and perfect relationships don’t always start at perfect times.”
This man is working to heal. He didn’t mean to find me or to fall in love with me. I don’t know why this is the timing we were given. Our connection is undeniable. Our foundation is healthy. We communicate better than any couple I know. We are open and vulnerable and raw and broken. We don’t have expectations of forever. We don’t have plans for a while life together. We aren’t in a rush. I love him with patience I didn’t know I was capable of, a trust in him that I have never had. He is kind and has a servants heart. He wants to please me and provide and loves my mind and he literally makes me want to be the very best version of myself.
So I’m not giving up this outrageously gorgeous man with kind eyes that are so blue you get lost and rock hard biceps that wrap around me. The softest lips and the most passionate kisses that melt me. That walks from the bed to the bathroom and looks like a Greek god. With a heart of gold that wants me healthy and happy and does whatever he can for me. He tells me everything even the parts that might hurt because he doesn’t ever want to lie to me. This man prays over me. He spoils my daughter and spends time with us. He’s happy to have me around his parents and is patiently waiting for the day when it’s appropriate to have me around his kids.
I’m not giving up on this man that checks all my boxes and makes me want to be the most loving patient person on the planet. He brings out the best in me. I’m not losing him to the memory of chucks mistress. A life that doesn’t exist and a person that was a wolf in sheep’s clothing. I’ll wait. I’ll hold his hand and kiss his neck and keep him calm and wait. I’ll slowly build with him the foundation of our future taking the good bricks from the lessons learned and throwing out the broken.
I waited 36 years for a man that prayed over my days. I can wait a little more.
Chuck’s Mistress has wrecked this man. She has taken all of his pieces and made him question everything. Who he is, what he knows, what he wants, what he is capable of. She took from him personally, in business, financially, and almost cost him his children. She’s the devil.
I don’t even call her The Devil maliciously, it’s an accurate description. She is a pretty package. She’s obviously driven or they wouldn’t have built the companies they have and she’s continuing to run them albeit most likely into the ground. She is attractive. Good little figure, fake tits, classic face. She’s a mom. Surely she’s a good one. I feel like good mother can be a relative term, but that a whole other story. She has a lot of “friends” and acquaintances, he says she was so fun with a magnetic personality.
She’s a pretty package but who she is under that; that’s what makes her the devil. You see the devil is a pretty package. In Christian faith we are taught that - you aren’t tempted into sin by things that aren’t attractive. You don’t go against your faith or hurt other people or yourself for something you don’t desire. It’s a pretty hot and tempting package - the devil.
The devil comes to steal, kill, and destroy. Chuck’s mistress may not have set out to do those things but as the temptation for better or more presented itself she went for it. She fed her needs at the expense of others. She fed the wolf inside her that needed men to want her, that weaponized sex, the one that justified her satisfaction at the expense of her promises with, if he doesn’t know it doesn’t hurt. She got to the point where even if he did know it was ok; he wanted her happy. She compartmentalized who she was as a person. Part loving wife and mother; part out right whore and liar.
As you can imagine; I get this. I lived this. I have been broken by this exact thing. She cloaks herself in righteousness, claiming God loves her and being a part of her church. She is a Jesus loving woman that will screw your friends husband.
Enough about her; you get the picture and Devil is an accurate depiction.
I don’t know who The Handyman was before her. I don’t know his patterns or what she used to justify her behavior. He’s a man. He isn’t perfect. I don’t know the trail of broken hearts or the women who fell hard for him that he didn’t reciprocate. I don’t know the dynamic. I know him now.
This kind of betrayal, changes you. It is a humbling experience. It changes your perception of what you should value. You become more concerned about character, loyalty, faith, honesty, trustworthiness than you are about big tits and a good blow job.
So I am getting the raw version of this man. The one that tears up when he feels really loved and connected to me. The one that carries the pain of disappointing and hurting his boys and family. The man that deeply desires a relationship with God and wants that as his foundation. The man that is working hard to rebuild and start over.
He cares for me and calms me. He tries so hard to be what I need and what I want. He hates that his pain and healing isn’t complete. He hates that he is simultaneously getting past her and falling for me.
He runs from me. He gets so worried about hurting me that he pushes me away. He comes back because it’s not like he’s not going to date. So what’s his plan, end things with me and find someone he likes LESS. Date a girl he doesn’t really connect with.
He still gets sad. I know he misses the life he had. The family unit they had created. How could you not. He isn’t a monster.
He asks me why I’m here; why I’m doing this to myself and I don’t have a good answer. I am not trying to fix him. I know I can’t. I have walked this process and it’s something he has to do for himself. I don’t see him as a project, I just see him.
I know their relationship is over. It’s irreparable. I know he is wired for love and connection, that he is vulnerable and some lucky woman will have him and he will love her in the most passionate, selfless way. I know this because I know he loves me. He tells me but more importantly he shows me. So when he asks why am I here? My response is usually because I’m not losing what we have to the memory of Chucks mistress.
I might be totally wrong but I do believe you can build a new relationship on top of the ruins of the last. I read this in an article and I can’t come up with a better way of articulating it “The importance of getting over someone is a myth.” “We should encourage each other to hold on to the good memories.” “It is possible, I think, to have a new relationship that builds on top of the gravelly ruins of the last using the old skills and affection to make the next one better, bigger.” “Good relationships can totally benefit from the reflection and melancholy that comes after heartbreak, and perfect relationships don’t always start at perfect times.”
This man is working to heal. He didn’t mean to find me or to fall in love with me. I don’t know why this is the timing we were given. Our connection is undeniable. Our foundation is healthy. We communicate better than any couple I know. We are open and vulnerable and raw and broken. We don’t have expectations of forever. We don’t have plans for a while life together. We aren’t in a rush. I love him with patience I didn’t know I was capable of, a trust in him that I have never had. He is kind and has a servants heart. He wants to please me and provide and loves my mind and he literally makes me want to be the very best version of myself.
So I’m not giving up this outrageously gorgeous man with kind eyes that are so blue you get lost and rock hard biceps that wrap around me. The softest lips and the most passionate kisses that melt me. That walks from the bed to the bathroom and looks like a Greek god. With a heart of gold that wants me healthy and happy and does whatever he can for me. He tells me everything even the parts that might hurt because he doesn’t ever want to lie to me. This man prays over me. He spoils my daughter and spends time with us. He’s happy to have me around his parents and is patiently waiting for the day when it’s appropriate to have me around his kids.
I’m not giving up on this man that checks all my boxes and makes me want to be the most loving patient person on the planet. He brings out the best in me. I’m not losing him to the memory of chucks mistress. A life that doesn’t exist and a person that was a wolf in sheep’s clothing. I’ll wait. I’ll hold his hand and kiss his neck and keep him calm and wait. I’ll slowly build with him the foundation of our future taking the good bricks from the lessons learned and throwing out the broken.
I waited 36 years for a man that prayed over my days. I can wait a little more.
The Constant Process
I REMEMBER VIVIDLY WHEN MY EX HUSBAND LEFT ME. I remember the process of grief. The absolute psychotic outbursts. The showing up to his office and telling him I will sit here and wait until you come talk to me. The crying in the car as I begged him to give our BRAND NEW marriage a chance.
I was a kind of devastated I never imagined. A lost, broken shell of a woman. I was angry. I wanted to know why? Why make me fall in love with you. Why promise me forever. Why propose on Valentine’s Day with a private dinner on a beach in Cabo with the ring of my dreams; tears streaming down both our eyes with such detail you even had specifically found a way to buy me the dress I was wearing for the occasion. Why take this whole, healed badass of a woman and break her.
When I met Mr. Greaseman my career in telecom had just taken off. I was about to hit my first 6 figure year. I had the most adorable house in a neighborhood I loved. I had a group of friends I adored and I was dating. I was put together. He found me, he fell in love quick. He wanted to give me the world. We moved in, got engaged, eloped and had a beautiful wedding. Bought the house of my dreams and moved in 10 days before Christmas. I had us completely unpacked and hosting our families for the holidays. He was my forever. We had it all. Good friends, a lake house, nice cars, a boat, lots of trips and I thought we were happy.
Sure sex in his office at lunch had stopped and we had stress. We dumped all of savings into my ring, the two houses, and our new boat. His ex wife wasn’t easy to deal with and his daughter was in constant competition with mine and with me over daddy’s love. But it never felt like we had major problems but then again, I was in charge and had everything I ever wanted.
I warned him about his assistant. I warned him about the girl who saw the name on the door and wanted it. I warned him about protecting our marriage in moments of weakness, not giving another woman the tools to come between us. Not emotionally confiding in another to fix what I didn’t even know was broken. I warned him about her the very day I met her.
I was right. He failed me. He failed to protect our sacred vows. He failed to communicate with me. When he felt broken, emasculated and not worthy, he didn’t talk to me - he talked to her. I couldn’t compete with the bond of a women exacerbating my errors and fixing my mistakes. Giving him what I use to and without realizing it; no longer did.
He left me. Shattered. A virtually suicidal shell of a woman that didn’t know how to recover from the man she waited her whole life for. I didn’t rush into this; I’d been single and dating for 8 years. I had 2 years of therapy under my belt dealing with my issues. I had done the work on me. I had a really healthy past relationship that ended and we had remained friends. I was ready.
The pain was unbearable and here I am 5 years later two blocks away from the dream house he bought me that another woman calls hers; and I still think about him. I don’t usually let my mind process the good that was in those years. I don’t let myself focus on the bad. I have fleeting moments that I push away. But when I think about him, I think about what I learned, the mistakes I made, and how it changed me as a person.
I learned how to be a wife from him. I may not have learned it until it was too late but my subsequent relationship benefitted from my ability to be a partner. I learned not to take but how to give. I learned how to be thankful for another person showing up for me and not expecting or demanding that of them. I learned how to make a man feel like a man. I learned the art of not correcting him, not belittling, not pointing out his flaws and fixing him.
I can see where the broken person I was put me in the path of my next toxic love affair. I see how I stayed with the sex addict for 3 years. I know why I didn’t walk away two months in because I wanted to be in love and have a life with someone. I wanted to prove I was worthy. I needed my ex to see someone else wanted me even if he didn’t.
In that relationship I learned patience, forgiveness, and how to set healthy boundaries. I learned how to be a really good step mother. How to know my roll and stay in my lane. How to love a little shit of a teenager through the years she didn’t even like me much until I became a person she could heavily rely on and wanted in her life. I put myself back together again in the next relationship. He dealt with tears and pain and me ending it on an almost weekly basis. He handled my angry outburst. He inflicted a new kind of damage on me but I was a willing participant.
He ended up not being a good investment long term and I didn’t stick around. Those boundaries I learned I put into practice. The character flaws I saw, I knew to look for something different.
In the year and a half following that relationship, I dated without much purpose. Or maybe with an evolving purpose. At first I wanted security again. I needed a worthy partner because this single mom stuff alone is terrifying. I don’t think it was a conscious way of dating but I can look at it now and say it was definitely what was happening.
The first guy I met was good. He is a good man. He tried hard. He was being patient and saw my potential and he wanted a life with me. I toyed with him. I strung him along, dated other people, told him I wasn’t ready, told him I was, ghosted him, came back, I messed with him until he disappeared. He’s such a good guy though if I text him right now he would greet that with compassion and understanding.
The next couple were similar. Good good guys. Liked me. I was a flighty mess. Processing my pain and just needing attention. I was taking from them. Then Mr AF1 came in - brilliant and promising the world. The “security” I thought I was looking for. After the closure of that train wreck - really putting my new found boundary skills into place. I wanted to try and fix things with joe.
Joe and I made a good pair. Although I over looked a couple of warning signs and to this day will never know if the warnings were giant red flags or just personality differences. He tested the waters, assured himself he could have me back and then let me go. I deserved that.
Then the fireman - best man I’ve dated in years. Not my person but an amazing guy. Mr toilet popped back up into my life and the universe gave me closure I had been desperately seeking for a decade. The world traveler showed me the same thing the fireman did in a different way: it doesn’t have to be forever and it’s ok if it doesn’t work.
Now the Handyman. He checks all my boxes (except height, LOL) but I went back to the blog post from July in between the fireman and the world traveler where I wrote down exactly what I wanted and it’s him. It’s totally him.
We have a whole new set of obstacles to overcome. He’s in a place very similar to where I was when Mr. Greaseman left me in pieces. I’m a lot better of a person to build a foundation with than my sex addict ex. It might be stupid but I’m giving it a chance. He could easily hurt me but I don’t know that he will and he is so very worth the risk.
I was a kind of devastated I never imagined. A lost, broken shell of a woman. I was angry. I wanted to know why? Why make me fall in love with you. Why promise me forever. Why propose on Valentine’s Day with a private dinner on a beach in Cabo with the ring of my dreams; tears streaming down both our eyes with such detail you even had specifically found a way to buy me the dress I was wearing for the occasion. Why take this whole, healed badass of a woman and break her.
When I met Mr. Greaseman my career in telecom had just taken off. I was about to hit my first 6 figure year. I had the most adorable house in a neighborhood I loved. I had a group of friends I adored and I was dating. I was put together. He found me, he fell in love quick. He wanted to give me the world. We moved in, got engaged, eloped and had a beautiful wedding. Bought the house of my dreams and moved in 10 days before Christmas. I had us completely unpacked and hosting our families for the holidays. He was my forever. We had it all. Good friends, a lake house, nice cars, a boat, lots of trips and I thought we were happy.
Sure sex in his office at lunch had stopped and we had stress. We dumped all of savings into my ring, the two houses, and our new boat. His ex wife wasn’t easy to deal with and his daughter was in constant competition with mine and with me over daddy’s love. But it never felt like we had major problems but then again, I was in charge and had everything I ever wanted.
I warned him about his assistant. I warned him about the girl who saw the name on the door and wanted it. I warned him about protecting our marriage in moments of weakness, not giving another woman the tools to come between us. Not emotionally confiding in another to fix what I didn’t even know was broken. I warned him about her the very day I met her.
I was right. He failed me. He failed to protect our sacred vows. He failed to communicate with me. When he felt broken, emasculated and not worthy, he didn’t talk to me - he talked to her. I couldn’t compete with the bond of a women exacerbating my errors and fixing my mistakes. Giving him what I use to and without realizing it; no longer did.
He left me. Shattered. A virtually suicidal shell of a woman that didn’t know how to recover from the man she waited her whole life for. I didn’t rush into this; I’d been single and dating for 8 years. I had 2 years of therapy under my belt dealing with my issues. I had done the work on me. I had a really healthy past relationship that ended and we had remained friends. I was ready.
The pain was unbearable and here I am 5 years later two blocks away from the dream house he bought me that another woman calls hers; and I still think about him. I don’t usually let my mind process the good that was in those years. I don’t let myself focus on the bad. I have fleeting moments that I push away. But when I think about him, I think about what I learned, the mistakes I made, and how it changed me as a person.
I learned how to be a wife from him. I may not have learned it until it was too late but my subsequent relationship benefitted from my ability to be a partner. I learned not to take but how to give. I learned how to be thankful for another person showing up for me and not expecting or demanding that of them. I learned how to make a man feel like a man. I learned the art of not correcting him, not belittling, not pointing out his flaws and fixing him.
I can see where the broken person I was put me in the path of my next toxic love affair. I see how I stayed with the sex addict for 3 years. I know why I didn’t walk away two months in because I wanted to be in love and have a life with someone. I wanted to prove I was worthy. I needed my ex to see someone else wanted me even if he didn’t.
In that relationship I learned patience, forgiveness, and how to set healthy boundaries. I learned how to be a really good step mother. How to know my roll and stay in my lane. How to love a little shit of a teenager through the years she didn’t even like me much until I became a person she could heavily rely on and wanted in her life. I put myself back together again in the next relationship. He dealt with tears and pain and me ending it on an almost weekly basis. He handled my angry outburst. He inflicted a new kind of damage on me but I was a willing participant.
He ended up not being a good investment long term and I didn’t stick around. Those boundaries I learned I put into practice. The character flaws I saw, I knew to look for something different.
In the year and a half following that relationship, I dated without much purpose. Or maybe with an evolving purpose. At first I wanted security again. I needed a worthy partner because this single mom stuff alone is terrifying. I don’t think it was a conscious way of dating but I can look at it now and say it was definitely what was happening.
The first guy I met was good. He is a good man. He tried hard. He was being patient and saw my potential and he wanted a life with me. I toyed with him. I strung him along, dated other people, told him I wasn’t ready, told him I was, ghosted him, came back, I messed with him until he disappeared. He’s such a good guy though if I text him right now he would greet that with compassion and understanding.
The next couple were similar. Good good guys. Liked me. I was a flighty mess. Processing my pain and just needing attention. I was taking from them. Then Mr AF1 came in - brilliant and promising the world. The “security” I thought I was looking for. After the closure of that train wreck - really putting my new found boundary skills into place. I wanted to try and fix things with joe.
Joe and I made a good pair. Although I over looked a couple of warning signs and to this day will never know if the warnings were giant red flags or just personality differences. He tested the waters, assured himself he could have me back and then let me go. I deserved that.
Then the fireman - best man I’ve dated in years. Not my person but an amazing guy. Mr toilet popped back up into my life and the universe gave me closure I had been desperately seeking for a decade. The world traveler showed me the same thing the fireman did in a different way: it doesn’t have to be forever and it’s ok if it doesn’t work.
Now the Handyman. He checks all my boxes (except height, LOL) but I went back to the blog post from July in between the fireman and the world traveler where I wrote down exactly what I wanted and it’s him. It’s totally him.
We have a whole new set of obstacles to overcome. He’s in a place very similar to where I was when Mr. Greaseman left me in pieces. I’m a lot better of a person to build a foundation with than my sex addict ex. It might be stupid but I’m giving it a chance. He could easily hurt me but I don’t know that he will and he is so very worth the risk.
Wednesday, January 1, 2020
Pay Attention to ME!!!
YOU KNOW WHEN YOU’RE IN A NEW RELATIONSHIP AND YOU’RE ALL
EXCITED AND YOU CAN’T GET ENOUGH OF EACH OTHER.... I’m there. Handyman is skiing. I’m driving him f*cking nuts I am sure.
I always laugh at myself because I give the best advice while dating. If you give me a scenario, I can read both sides and tell you with some pretty impressive accuracy what you should do to achieve your desired outcome of NOT making this man want to run for this hills. BUT in my own relationships. Not so much.
Here is the problem. I do really well when I am just not that into a man. If I’m swiping right and talking to one or a few, I can usually gain the attention of who I’m most interested in by not paying enough attention to him.
Seriously. This is the messed up way men and women work... a man likes this elusive creature unlike any other. The chase. The game. The not too easy, not unattainable either. The balance of being interested but not too interested. Women basically have to talk to someone else to keep from getting too excited and attached to the man they actually like so they play this elusive creature role perfectly with detachment.
For example... last spring I was dating this guy for a couple months. He was a tumultuous liar with an amazing knack for drawing me back in every time I shut him down. Let’s call him AirFirceOne. So AF1 was charming and brilliant, charismatic and successful. He was also manipulative and controlling, a gaslighting narcissist with borderline personality disorder and an entirely false reality in which he pretended to live AND his ass was married.
Married?!? Yes. MARRIED. How did I miss this you might ask? Wellllllll in hindsight, I probably knew. I joked about his schedule and how he would make plans and break them. Always had an excuse for everything. I literally said at one point, this sounds a lot more like you have a wife at home than a work emergency. A kid emergency. A whatever else came up... I say he was brilliant because not many men can lie and maintain the stories he did. He was a literal sociopath and i experienced some of the most insane gaslighting and manipulative behavior I have ever seen.
Now the fucked up part is I saw it happening and I participated. Like the movie was playing out in front of me and I watched myself play my roll. It was almost a battle of wits. I was proving myself right. I was proving he wasn’t what he claimed to be and he was a lying cheating married man. I went back and forth and I took from him. He took from me and I took from him. He played on my compassion and empathy and any time I was done with the game, and I called it a game, he had some medical emergency. He was near death or dying or something insanely tragic was happening which took over the narrative and drew me back in.
It all culminated one night I told him I was done with his game and I didn’t care anymore what happened. That he had emotionally bruised me and used me enough like a puppet and I was over it. I said you win. The game is over and you won. I’m done.
That night he had an utter meltdown and the following weeks it continued. He went so far as to call me from 8 different numbers and leave his fake suicide on my voicemail. Yes. The man shot a gun and acted like he killed himself because of me. You want to talk about some violent terrifying mental problems this guy had them.
But before all that...
Somewhere in the middle of this few months of hell when I had ended things and he was still trying to hold my attention: I started dating again. I met this tall, successful, super fun man. Our first date was a blast. We will call him Joe, Average Joe.
Joe was reckless and spontaneous but still stable and controlled. Our first date started a joke about running off to Vegas and about a month in he was telling me he loved me. I like joe. I bet I could have fallen for joe. The reason he fell for me was because I was available but not overly available. I was busy. I was raising my kid, taking vacations, and texting him when I had a second. He spent the first several weeks not even hearing from me daily. Then he’d have these like sad little moments where he’d back off and I’d draw him back in... he liked the chase. I could read that in after about a month I let him catch me.
All was well and good but I still had this psycho in my phone nonstop trying to get me to see him to talk to him to give him anything and I don’t know what was wrong with me but I kept answering. Now AF1 was an astute reader of people. He knew I was seeing someone and I was slipping away. So he developed a new kind of crazy.
I don’t know how he even figured out who I was seeing but he got enough entail on him to create a believable narrative that I needed to protect my daughter from this man. That he was a sexual predator with a pension for teenage girls. That he would be grooming my Impressionable teenage girl. This worked for two reasons: one, plant that seed of doubt and I can’t ever feel safe and secure and not wonder, and should something ever happen and it be a real concern - I would never forgive myself. And the second reason, old joe was a little different in the bedroom.
He was hot and knew what he was doing but he had confessed a past history in an unhealthy relationship where they were basically swingers. Sought out threesomes and what not. Which makes me insanely uncomfortable. The other thing is hours and hours of foreplay and sex and this guy never ever finished. So before this horrific terrifying seed of doubt was planted I already had this suspicion something wasn’t quite right with him sexually.
Date a sex addict for 3 years and you will learn a lot about how men rewire the pleasure centers in their brains. That finding fulfillment in porn and casual sex with a stranger or hookers, or whatever it is. They can change how they are neurobiologically wired to feel pleasure and understand intimacy. A man who can’t finish in sex with a women they are emotionally bonded to - well they aren’t really that bonded because the orgasmic neurological response isn’t happening that releases the hormones that are literally referred to as “bonding chemicals”. But also something isn’t right. Might be a health issue. It’s usually a brain issue... don’t even get me started on the dangers of porn for adolescent boys.
So this crazy ass saying, you need to watch the man you are seeing around your daughter was enough for me to pull back. Granted I didn’t really believe it but he told a good story and there was enough in play to make me worry. But two months later he tries to kill himself on my voicemail and his wife calls me - so I can safely say old Joe. Not a pedophile but still not my person.
Alright.... before we bring this all back to the present can we all take a second to acknowledge that dating in 2019 was fucking nuts. Like I mean that shit played out like a law and order svu episode. It was insane. I should really be a lifetime movie writer. But I digress.
Back to the handyman... I am having to consciously slow my ever loving roll. I am not playing it cool AT ALL. There is no elusiveness. I want to blow him up and know what he is doing all the time. It’s not a control or fear thing it’s an attachment thing. I’m like so interested in his happiness and what he’s doing. I’m like hey. I love you. Hey. Whatcha doin? Hey. How are the slopes. Hey. How’s skiing with dad. Hi. Hi. Hi. Hi. Ohhhh look what I read. I thought of you. Here is the depth of my overly analytical mind for you to enjoy when you have time... ok call me later.
And saying all this makes me laugh but it’s so damn accurate of what the last two days have been like. I have zero chill. This man is going to be like babe. I love you. You need a hobby.
I’m not usually like this. It’s the excitement and the giddiness and the newness all at once. It’s our intimate connection and the deep vulnerability we have created. It’s just me. So today. New Year’s Day. He’s skiing with his dad and I’m going to focus on my individual 2020 goals and organize my bathroom.
I promised myself this house would be spotless by the time he got home because I’m sick of living like a sorority girl with my teenage daughter. Plus him gone is a good time to declutter my life. Happy New Year! Don’t go driving the people you love crazy today by smothering them with all your joy and emotions! Cheers!
EXCITED AND YOU CAN’T GET ENOUGH OF EACH OTHER.... I’m there. Handyman is skiing. I’m driving him f*cking nuts I am sure.
I always laugh at myself because I give the best advice while dating. If you give me a scenario, I can read both sides and tell you with some pretty impressive accuracy what you should do to achieve your desired outcome of NOT making this man want to run for this hills. BUT in my own relationships. Not so much.
Here is the problem. I do really well when I am just not that into a man. If I’m swiping right and talking to one or a few, I can usually gain the attention of who I’m most interested in by not paying enough attention to him.
Seriously. This is the messed up way men and women work... a man likes this elusive creature unlike any other. The chase. The game. The not too easy, not unattainable either. The balance of being interested but not too interested. Women basically have to talk to someone else to keep from getting too excited and attached to the man they actually like so they play this elusive creature role perfectly with detachment.
For example... last spring I was dating this guy for a couple months. He was a tumultuous liar with an amazing knack for drawing me back in every time I shut him down. Let’s call him AirFirceOne. So AF1 was charming and brilliant, charismatic and successful. He was also manipulative and controlling, a gaslighting narcissist with borderline personality disorder and an entirely false reality in which he pretended to live AND his ass was married.
Married?!? Yes. MARRIED. How did I miss this you might ask? Wellllllll in hindsight, I probably knew. I joked about his schedule and how he would make plans and break them. Always had an excuse for everything. I literally said at one point, this sounds a lot more like you have a wife at home than a work emergency. A kid emergency. A whatever else came up... I say he was brilliant because not many men can lie and maintain the stories he did. He was a literal sociopath and i experienced some of the most insane gaslighting and manipulative behavior I have ever seen.
Now the fucked up part is I saw it happening and I participated. Like the movie was playing out in front of me and I watched myself play my roll. It was almost a battle of wits. I was proving myself right. I was proving he wasn’t what he claimed to be and he was a lying cheating married man. I went back and forth and I took from him. He took from me and I took from him. He played on my compassion and empathy and any time I was done with the game, and I called it a game, he had some medical emergency. He was near death or dying or something insanely tragic was happening which took over the narrative and drew me back in.
It all culminated one night I told him I was done with his game and I didn’t care anymore what happened. That he had emotionally bruised me and used me enough like a puppet and I was over it. I said you win. The game is over and you won. I’m done.
That night he had an utter meltdown and the following weeks it continued. He went so far as to call me from 8 different numbers and leave his fake suicide on my voicemail. Yes. The man shot a gun and acted like he killed himself because of me. You want to talk about some violent terrifying mental problems this guy had them.
But before all that...
Somewhere in the middle of this few months of hell when I had ended things and he was still trying to hold my attention: I started dating again. I met this tall, successful, super fun man. Our first date was a blast. We will call him Joe, Average Joe.
Joe was reckless and spontaneous but still stable and controlled. Our first date started a joke about running off to Vegas and about a month in he was telling me he loved me. I like joe. I bet I could have fallen for joe. The reason he fell for me was because I was available but not overly available. I was busy. I was raising my kid, taking vacations, and texting him when I had a second. He spent the first several weeks not even hearing from me daily. Then he’d have these like sad little moments where he’d back off and I’d draw him back in... he liked the chase. I could read that in after about a month I let him catch me.
All was well and good but I still had this psycho in my phone nonstop trying to get me to see him to talk to him to give him anything and I don’t know what was wrong with me but I kept answering. Now AF1 was an astute reader of people. He knew I was seeing someone and I was slipping away. So he developed a new kind of crazy.
I don’t know how he even figured out who I was seeing but he got enough entail on him to create a believable narrative that I needed to protect my daughter from this man. That he was a sexual predator with a pension for teenage girls. That he would be grooming my Impressionable teenage girl. This worked for two reasons: one, plant that seed of doubt and I can’t ever feel safe and secure and not wonder, and should something ever happen and it be a real concern - I would never forgive myself. And the second reason, old joe was a little different in the bedroom.
He was hot and knew what he was doing but he had confessed a past history in an unhealthy relationship where they were basically swingers. Sought out threesomes and what not. Which makes me insanely uncomfortable. The other thing is hours and hours of foreplay and sex and this guy never ever finished. So before this horrific terrifying seed of doubt was planted I already had this suspicion something wasn’t quite right with him sexually.
Date a sex addict for 3 years and you will learn a lot about how men rewire the pleasure centers in their brains. That finding fulfillment in porn and casual sex with a stranger or hookers, or whatever it is. They can change how they are neurobiologically wired to feel pleasure and understand intimacy. A man who can’t finish in sex with a women they are emotionally bonded to - well they aren’t really that bonded because the orgasmic neurological response isn’t happening that releases the hormones that are literally referred to as “bonding chemicals”. But also something isn’t right. Might be a health issue. It’s usually a brain issue... don’t even get me started on the dangers of porn for adolescent boys.
So this crazy ass saying, you need to watch the man you are seeing around your daughter was enough for me to pull back. Granted I didn’t really believe it but he told a good story and there was enough in play to make me worry. But two months later he tries to kill himself on my voicemail and his wife calls me - so I can safely say old Joe. Not a pedophile but still not my person.
Alright.... before we bring this all back to the present can we all take a second to acknowledge that dating in 2019 was fucking nuts. Like I mean that shit played out like a law and order svu episode. It was insane. I should really be a lifetime movie writer. But I digress.
Back to the handyman... I am having to consciously slow my ever loving roll. I am not playing it cool AT ALL. There is no elusiveness. I want to blow him up and know what he is doing all the time. It’s not a control or fear thing it’s an attachment thing. I’m like so interested in his happiness and what he’s doing. I’m like hey. I love you. Hey. Whatcha doin? Hey. How are the slopes. Hey. How’s skiing with dad. Hi. Hi. Hi. Hi. Ohhhh look what I read. I thought of you. Here is the depth of my overly analytical mind for you to enjoy when you have time... ok call me later.
And saying all this makes me laugh but it’s so damn accurate of what the last two days have been like. I have zero chill. This man is going to be like babe. I love you. You need a hobby.
I’m not usually like this. It’s the excitement and the giddiness and the newness all at once. It’s our intimate connection and the deep vulnerability we have created. It’s just me. So today. New Year’s Day. He’s skiing with his dad and I’m going to focus on my individual 2020 goals and organize my bathroom.
I promised myself this house would be spotless by the time he got home because I’m sick of living like a sorority girl with my teenage daughter. Plus him gone is a good time to declutter my life. Happy New Year! Don’t go driving the people you love crazy today by smothering them with all your joy and emotions! Cheers!
Tuesday, December 31, 2019
This is 2020
I’VE BEEN KIND OF AN EMOTIONAL INTROSPECTIVE MESS THIS WEEK. Not sure where all my feelings are pouring from but I’m doing my best to manage and not heap every thought onto the people I love. Writing is becoming more consistent. Reading is becoming a much larger part of my life. I think I’m in a good headspace.
I use this blog to write about relationships and then men I date. Mostly towards the beginning or end. Recap or excitement, not a lot of deep self reflection in the midst of these love affairs.
Some times I go through some really heavy shit and it’s months or years later before I want to write about it. It takes me a while to unpack the the deception and abuse I’ve endured over the years. I think I might have trouble acknowledging my roll of allowing behavior to continue. I think I wrap it in the nobility of unconditional love and grace but really it’s not the way God or anyone who cares for me would ever intend I live.
But true to pattern, new relationship, lots of feelings and emotions rolling around, excitement and expectations. Hope of the promise of new and a different relationship so I have a lot to say, and process. Guess I’ll dive in:
Mr. Handyman is on a family vacation. His boys and parents up at the family condo in Created Butte. We are spending a week a part. Y’all I am good with distance. I am great with distance... I PREFER distance. I remember when I was married to my 2nd husband like wanting him to go on work trips or me to go on work trips just because I like my alone time. I take obnoxiously long baths reading and writing in the tub - but everyone leaves me alone. I liked my weekend boyfriend before he became my live in boyfriend. Granted the distance just made his sex addiction easier to feed and hide. I liked dating a guy in okc because he was only around to take me to dinner once a week and the rest of my time was mine. That was cool until his wife called to let me know he was married. I even liked that the last guy travelled for work because I basically wanted to travel more too.
I’m good with distance. I like space. I miss this man like I haven’t missed anyone maybe ever. It’s not like a boredom, wish he was here to do stuff with me. Or dependent, I can’t do stuff without someone. No this is like a real sincere I miss him. Like my heart misses him. Our closeness, our intimacy, the conversations that last entirely too long, the time we spend together. I just miss the hell out of this man and THAT is freaking me out.
So we should just go ahead and acknowledge that I’m pretty much head over heels in love with this man. He’s kind and patient and he works really hard to know me. He makes me feel seen and heard. He apologizes when he hurts me even if he isn’t wrong. He understands my point of view on absolutely everything. He gets deep in his own emotions and pain and he shares with me. He is intimately invested in our relationship. This man knows how to love, love hard and deeply care for people.
He has so much to give and I have so much to give and we are just the most obnoxious ball of build each other up, processing pain, no secrets, ugly cry, deep seeded insecurities, here are my flaws. Love me as I am and I’ll become the best version of me and love you back 10x over. This man clams me, he reads me, he sees me, he prays over me, he walks in faith with me and he tells me I’m gorgeous even though I’m soft and he has abs and a chest that make me bite my lip when he’s shirtless.
I’m insane over this man and I really didn’t want to be.
We said it would be fun and light. We gave eachother the don’t fall in love with me speeches. We made a plan. I knew when he kissed me at a corner table in doubleshot. When he just grabbed my face and kissed me, I was in love. But he was too. I could feel it.
I’m easy to know. I’m open and vulnerability is a trait I have honed and one I deeply desire. There isn’t a lot of armor or walls. I’m ok with letting people in. I’ve overcome some intense heartbreak. Like really insane stuff, so I’m not really afraid of being hurt. I can overcome pain, heartbreak and disappointment. I just don’t think I’ve found anyone with similar love languages, a similar past, that is so drawn to my empathetic nature and even though we’ve both been damaged; he’s open and vulnerable with me.
So I miss him. I haven’t missed a man maybe ever but I miss this one.
I’m so impressed by the foundation we are intentionally laying. The goals we have and the life we want together, someday. Not soon, but when it’s right and we have walked through seasons together. I love how he loves his kids, his parents, respects his ex wife, is so open and willing to be a part of my family. He loves my family, my monster and even has sent her crazy father business.
He embodies patience, kindness, loyalty, strength. He’s soft and open and his protective and passionate. I look at him and I sometimes tear up because I’m so thankful and loved so well. Sometimes he looks at me and I see his tears too. He said I love you first and abruptly and he meant it. He says it on accident and gets embarrassed when he hangs up the phone in front of his parents. He is thankful they like me and they’re open to me after all he’s been through. I appreciate him. I’m obsessed with him in all the best ways. I’m surprised and overwhelmed almost daily. He’s the man of God I’ve always wanted and never thought I could have. He’s too good for me and I plan to work really hard to love him as well as he does me.
I use this blog to write about relationships and then men I date. Mostly towards the beginning or end. Recap or excitement, not a lot of deep self reflection in the midst of these love affairs.
Some times I go through some really heavy shit and it’s months or years later before I want to write about it. It takes me a while to unpack the the deception and abuse I’ve endured over the years. I think I might have trouble acknowledging my roll of allowing behavior to continue. I think I wrap it in the nobility of unconditional love and grace but really it’s not the way God or anyone who cares for me would ever intend I live.
But true to pattern, new relationship, lots of feelings and emotions rolling around, excitement and expectations. Hope of the promise of new and a different relationship so I have a lot to say, and process. Guess I’ll dive in:
Mr. Handyman is on a family vacation. His boys and parents up at the family condo in Created Butte. We are spending a week a part. Y’all I am good with distance. I am great with distance... I PREFER distance. I remember when I was married to my 2nd husband like wanting him to go on work trips or me to go on work trips just because I like my alone time. I take obnoxiously long baths reading and writing in the tub - but everyone leaves me alone. I liked my weekend boyfriend before he became my live in boyfriend. Granted the distance just made his sex addiction easier to feed and hide. I liked dating a guy in okc because he was only around to take me to dinner once a week and the rest of my time was mine. That was cool until his wife called to let me know he was married. I even liked that the last guy travelled for work because I basically wanted to travel more too.
I’m good with distance. I like space. I miss this man like I haven’t missed anyone maybe ever. It’s not like a boredom, wish he was here to do stuff with me. Or dependent, I can’t do stuff without someone. No this is like a real sincere I miss him. Like my heart misses him. Our closeness, our intimacy, the conversations that last entirely too long, the time we spend together. I just miss the hell out of this man and THAT is freaking me out.
So we should just go ahead and acknowledge that I’m pretty much head over heels in love with this man. He’s kind and patient and he works really hard to know me. He makes me feel seen and heard. He apologizes when he hurts me even if he isn’t wrong. He understands my point of view on absolutely everything. He gets deep in his own emotions and pain and he shares with me. He is intimately invested in our relationship. This man knows how to love, love hard and deeply care for people.
He has so much to give and I have so much to give and we are just the most obnoxious ball of build each other up, processing pain, no secrets, ugly cry, deep seeded insecurities, here are my flaws. Love me as I am and I’ll become the best version of me and love you back 10x over. This man clams me, he reads me, he sees me, he prays over me, he walks in faith with me and he tells me I’m gorgeous even though I’m soft and he has abs and a chest that make me bite my lip when he’s shirtless.
I’m insane over this man and I really didn’t want to be.
We said it would be fun and light. We gave eachother the don’t fall in love with me speeches. We made a plan. I knew when he kissed me at a corner table in doubleshot. When he just grabbed my face and kissed me, I was in love. But he was too. I could feel it.
I’m easy to know. I’m open and vulnerability is a trait I have honed and one I deeply desire. There isn’t a lot of armor or walls. I’m ok with letting people in. I’ve overcome some intense heartbreak. Like really insane stuff, so I’m not really afraid of being hurt. I can overcome pain, heartbreak and disappointment. I just don’t think I’ve found anyone with similar love languages, a similar past, that is so drawn to my empathetic nature and even though we’ve both been damaged; he’s open and vulnerable with me.
So I miss him. I haven’t missed a man maybe ever but I miss this one.
I’m so impressed by the foundation we are intentionally laying. The goals we have and the life we want together, someday. Not soon, but when it’s right and we have walked through seasons together. I love how he loves his kids, his parents, respects his ex wife, is so open and willing to be a part of my family. He loves my family, my monster and even has sent her crazy father business.
He embodies patience, kindness, loyalty, strength. He’s soft and open and his protective and passionate. I look at him and I sometimes tear up because I’m so thankful and loved so well. Sometimes he looks at me and I see his tears too. He said I love you first and abruptly and he meant it. He says it on accident and gets embarrassed when he hangs up the phone in front of his parents. He is thankful they like me and they’re open to me after all he’s been through. I appreciate him. I’m obsessed with him in all the best ways. I’m surprised and overwhelmed almost daily. He’s the man of God I’ve always wanted and never thought I could have. He’s too good for me and I plan to work really hard to love him as well as he does me.
Saturday, December 28, 2019
Everyone Wants a Handyman
I AM BREAKING MY PATTERN AND WRITING AGAIN. I’m just in the mood to get it all out there. Savor the memories and lock them in time on my little online diary that gets shared with a very select few. I’m waking up this morning under my weighted blanket and I’m thankful, reflective, and hopeful of the future I’m manifesting.
The handyman and I are the literal healthiest relationship I’ve ever been in and it was the most unintentional thing. So, I told you I had been over the world traveler, at least known he wasn’t my person since his first major meltdown while in Croatia. He had this habit that was like a beacon rescue light, bright red and flashing. He clears out his phone. Hear me out: I have met one man who has created the habit of deleting all of his back text messages. One. There is never a string of what you’ve talked about. He clears it all. The one man I met had that habit because he was a literal sex addict. He kind of broke it but that’s because he just gave the hookers a number from an app he used on his phone. So our 5th day in Europe drinking on a boat in the middle of the Mediterranean, I look over and he is texting some girl and it is heart eye and kissy face emojis and an I miss you text. Like what the actual effe. You flew my ass to the other side of the world and your texting some chick you still are apparently talking to that you miss her and kissy face?!! Come the F*ck On!!!
I didn’t overreact at all. You know me. I’m cold and dead inside. Some dude feeding me bullshit and texting another girl, damn that’s just like home for me. I was just like “oh really...“ and I laughed. He was obviously upset and I let him throw his temper tantrum. He didn’t have much of an explanation and I wasn’t throwing anything in his face. I was just surprised. I literally didn’t even say anything. He lost his mind. It was in that moment I was like well fuck. This will never work but I had 6 days left on an island vacation and I was going to make the best of it.
All of this to say, we were over before we ever really had a chance to start. So when my passive aggressive distance and no sex since Athens finally wears him down and he breaks up with me. (I know, I’m horrible) I was back on bumble the moment he said “we should talk”.
So I match with this outrageously attractive ex firefighter. I remember looking at his profile thinking I am going to have to lose 50lbs before this hottie is going to be into me. Hope I still look enough like these pictures. He sends me a message that says hey - I’m super busy. I’m on my phone all day, here is my number and my name. You can check me out on social media, call me if you want to talk. So I text the number some snarky text like, “hey it’s Emily, I’m ok with skipping straight to texting and I’ll stalk you on social media in a few.” The text delivers as green and I am confused because like who doesn’t have an iPhone?
So I message him on bumble and say, I always get weirded out when texts aren’t iMessages. Like is this an app number you gave me to hide your dating life from your wife or something? Who doesn’t have an iPhone? He responds. Sorry wrong number... I fat fingered it. Here is my cell.
So I text his right number and said welp, thanks for that... some total stranger wants to know why Emily is stalking him now.
He dies laughing and immediately FaceTimes me.
I decline.
Whattttt.... I have on no make up, last nights ratty hair and an oversized firefighter tee with no bra. Lord. So I said hang on let me at least remove last nights mascara from under my eyes and brush my hair. I’ll call you back.
I do. I look rough, opt for dim lighting and hope my sparkling personality seals the deal. Call him back. He is in a full blown belly laugh at my stalking text to a wrong number. We talk while he’s in the pick up line at school. It’s effortless. We laugh nonstop.
The beginning he asks what I’m looking for and I said literally to date. I told him: I have 18 months left with my daughter under my roof. I’m not trying to move in and build a future with someone. I don’t want to be racing towards forever. I want a fancy dinner or a fun date night once a week. I want someone who will go to concerts or things that I needed be a couple for, other than that I don’t care. I have a great job, a full wonderful life, amazing friends and I’m not letting anything rock my baby girls last year and a half at home.
He replies good. I’m not looking for anything serious; let me tell you what’s wrong with me. I’m going through a nasty divorce that I hope won’t take forever but realistically it’s going to drag on for years. I built 3 companies in a short time with my ex wife. She started screwing one of my business partners. We tried to make it work, went back and forth for months. She kept cheating and lying. I even offered her an open marriage just desperate to make it work. Finally it got so bad my kids mom filed to take custody from me and I moved. So I had been staying with my parents during our back and forth and living with them was helping the boys mom feel comfortable with our custody arrangements. So I have decided I’m staying here a while. So if you’re cool with a 43 year old that lives with his parents and has a bat shot crazy ex wife trying to destroy his companies and life. I’m your man.
I said oh my god!... you aren’t going to be good for anyone for a while.
He said “nope, but I’m a lot of fun.”
So I said cool. I lived with my parents. Heck I’m still just a handful of bad decisions away from something like that. Also as I mentioned before, I don’t want to marry you, live with you, build a life with you. I basically want to find someone I like to hang out with that I’m hopefully attracted to that is a good time. Let’s keep talking.
We text and talk nonstop and then we meet for coffee. He walks in hugs me and I immediately have to take a conference call. He sits for 30 mins while I work. Then when I get off my call, he kisses me. Oh my god I melt. His lips are soft and his kisses are perfect. F*ck.
We make plans for Friday night. I have friends going to the concert at hard rock and I want to country dance after at track 5. We end up having dinner Wednesday and Thursday night too.
We have so much fun. He’s gorgeous and I can’t tell you how many women come up and want to dance with him and how perfectly all over me he is. “Sorry mam, all my dances are reserved for her.”
The 5 days of talking nonstop and one amazing kiss before this night I was already in trouble. We just align. Our faith, how it’s a priority and where we are with it. Our life experiences. My empathy in his divorce. How I understand his pain and the healing process. Our deep desire for trust and a real relationship even though we both are capable of just dating casually. Parenting styles. Co-parenting styles. Business goals. Long term plans. All of it. We fit.
Saturday we go to brunch and Monday we book a weekend getaway to Napa because that is how I roll.
I had to be in Sacramento for work anyway, I left Sunday and he didn’t have he kids that weekend before Christmas. No one was buying me a damn thing and my kid had stuff going with her dad so I said hey! Napa is an hour from Sacramento. Fly in Thursday and let’s stay until Sunday. We can say Merry Christmas to us in wine country this weekend. I used points for one of his flights. Hotels were cheap. Cars cheap. It was like under a grand to get him there and for the car rental and a hotel.
So he spends the week working. I work in Sacramento and we FaceTime every morning and every night. The night before my meetings laying in bed talking, he said I’m going to pray over your day tomorrow. He does, out loud on FaceTime this man prays for me. For wise words and understanding for the ability to articulate to open minds and hearts and do his work. I cry. Tears stream from my face listening to him speak affirmations and intercede on my behalf. This man knows my heart and nurtures my soul.
The day before he arrives I said, go to my house and bring me warm clothes let’s go to Tahoe for one night!!! I’ve never been. Let’s find snow on Christmas. So he does. He goes and gets clothes and packs a bag and brings them to me. We go to Tahoe. Have an amazing time. We laid in the room for hours talking. Learning so much and just creating this real raw intimacy. We had an amazing steak dinner and went to play craps. Lost out asses at the craps table but he turns to me with entirely too much alcohol in his system and says, Emily I am completely in love with you, shit, I wasn’t going to say that for a long time but I am in love with you.
I was SHOCKED. I mean, I knew it. He was fallingl for me the moment we met and the way he looked at me. But really it was the morning after we had gone out dancing. We made sweet perfect love and it wasn’t drunk sex. It was intentional and intimate and amazing and after he said, that doesn’t happen. I knew that he loved me then. I knew I was falling hard for that man then. I knew if the sex was good and it was great... I was in trouble.
Still completely in shock a whopping 10 days from our first FaceTime conversation- the L word had come out of his mouth. I hugged him and kissed and said I’m completely in love with you too and we are fucking morons.
The weekend was amazing. Wine country is stupid romantic. The food, drinks, and scenery. We are perfect and so happy. We get to the airport to come home and the internet to the entire airport had been knocked out so like 10 flights cancelled and 5 hours of delays with thousands of people missing flights.
He calmly rebooks us for the following day, finds and adorable Airbnb in old town Sacramento and takes me for Mexican food and margs. I was so amazed. No stress. Nothing he could do about the delay. He solved our problem and made the best of it. I could not ask for more.
Not to compare them as people but in contrast, when I was coming home from Europe and in line for customs with 45mins to get to my gate or miss my next flight, the world traveler was losing his shit. I mean cussing, blaming people around us for being slow, wanting to cut the line, it was embarrassing. I had a 300lb manchild throwing his at that point usual fit in an airport of strangers.
So my anxiety was high, knowing Mr Handyman has kids at home he wants to try and see and a company to run and fires to fight. He was so easy and calm and just kissed me and told me not to worry.
Where did this angel of a man come from and what kind of crack was his crazy ex smoking that she traded this lover in for a chance at private plane money and a bigger yacht? Thank you Jesus for other people’s stupidity. I know for a fact no amount of money is worth losing this man.
We have had a wonderful holiday together. I have loved knowing him and loving him and I see a future and I am not in a rush. It’s all in gods hands and on his timing. I just thank him every day that I get to have him in my life. That he loves me well and loved me fast and wants me to be happy and sees a life with me in the future too.
Plus he has abs. I thank god for those abs too.
The handyman and I are the literal healthiest relationship I’ve ever been in and it was the most unintentional thing. So, I told you I had been over the world traveler, at least known he wasn’t my person since his first major meltdown while in Croatia. He had this habit that was like a beacon rescue light, bright red and flashing. He clears out his phone. Hear me out: I have met one man who has created the habit of deleting all of his back text messages. One. There is never a string of what you’ve talked about. He clears it all. The one man I met had that habit because he was a literal sex addict. He kind of broke it but that’s because he just gave the hookers a number from an app he used on his phone. So our 5th day in Europe drinking on a boat in the middle of the Mediterranean, I look over and he is texting some girl and it is heart eye and kissy face emojis and an I miss you text. Like what the actual effe. You flew my ass to the other side of the world and your texting some chick you still are apparently talking to that you miss her and kissy face?!! Come the F*ck On!!!
I didn’t overreact at all. You know me. I’m cold and dead inside. Some dude feeding me bullshit and texting another girl, damn that’s just like home for me. I was just like “oh really...“ and I laughed. He was obviously upset and I let him throw his temper tantrum. He didn’t have much of an explanation and I wasn’t throwing anything in his face. I was just surprised. I literally didn’t even say anything. He lost his mind. It was in that moment I was like well fuck. This will never work but I had 6 days left on an island vacation and I was going to make the best of it.
All of this to say, we were over before we ever really had a chance to start. So when my passive aggressive distance and no sex since Athens finally wears him down and he breaks up with me. (I know, I’m horrible) I was back on bumble the moment he said “we should talk”.
So I match with this outrageously attractive ex firefighter. I remember looking at his profile thinking I am going to have to lose 50lbs before this hottie is going to be into me. Hope I still look enough like these pictures. He sends me a message that says hey - I’m super busy. I’m on my phone all day, here is my number and my name. You can check me out on social media, call me if you want to talk. So I text the number some snarky text like, “hey it’s Emily, I’m ok with skipping straight to texting and I’ll stalk you on social media in a few.” The text delivers as green and I am confused because like who doesn’t have an iPhone?
So I message him on bumble and say, I always get weirded out when texts aren’t iMessages. Like is this an app number you gave me to hide your dating life from your wife or something? Who doesn’t have an iPhone? He responds. Sorry wrong number... I fat fingered it. Here is my cell.
So I text his right number and said welp, thanks for that... some total stranger wants to know why Emily is stalking him now.
He dies laughing and immediately FaceTimes me.
I decline.
Whattttt.... I have on no make up, last nights ratty hair and an oversized firefighter tee with no bra. Lord. So I said hang on let me at least remove last nights mascara from under my eyes and brush my hair. I’ll call you back.
I do. I look rough, opt for dim lighting and hope my sparkling personality seals the deal. Call him back. He is in a full blown belly laugh at my stalking text to a wrong number. We talk while he’s in the pick up line at school. It’s effortless. We laugh nonstop.
The beginning he asks what I’m looking for and I said literally to date. I told him: I have 18 months left with my daughter under my roof. I’m not trying to move in and build a future with someone. I don’t want to be racing towards forever. I want a fancy dinner or a fun date night once a week. I want someone who will go to concerts or things that I needed be a couple for, other than that I don’t care. I have a great job, a full wonderful life, amazing friends and I’m not letting anything rock my baby girls last year and a half at home.
He replies good. I’m not looking for anything serious; let me tell you what’s wrong with me. I’m going through a nasty divorce that I hope won’t take forever but realistically it’s going to drag on for years. I built 3 companies in a short time with my ex wife. She started screwing one of my business partners. We tried to make it work, went back and forth for months. She kept cheating and lying. I even offered her an open marriage just desperate to make it work. Finally it got so bad my kids mom filed to take custody from me and I moved. So I had been staying with my parents during our back and forth and living with them was helping the boys mom feel comfortable with our custody arrangements. So I have decided I’m staying here a while. So if you’re cool with a 43 year old that lives with his parents and has a bat shot crazy ex wife trying to destroy his companies and life. I’m your man.
I said oh my god!... you aren’t going to be good for anyone for a while.
He said “nope, but I’m a lot of fun.”
So I said cool. I lived with my parents. Heck I’m still just a handful of bad decisions away from something like that. Also as I mentioned before, I don’t want to marry you, live with you, build a life with you. I basically want to find someone I like to hang out with that I’m hopefully attracted to that is a good time. Let’s keep talking.
We text and talk nonstop and then we meet for coffee. He walks in hugs me and I immediately have to take a conference call. He sits for 30 mins while I work. Then when I get off my call, he kisses me. Oh my god I melt. His lips are soft and his kisses are perfect. F*ck.
We make plans for Friday night. I have friends going to the concert at hard rock and I want to country dance after at track 5. We end up having dinner Wednesday and Thursday night too.
We have so much fun. He’s gorgeous and I can’t tell you how many women come up and want to dance with him and how perfectly all over me he is. “Sorry mam, all my dances are reserved for her.”
The 5 days of talking nonstop and one amazing kiss before this night I was already in trouble. We just align. Our faith, how it’s a priority and where we are with it. Our life experiences. My empathy in his divorce. How I understand his pain and the healing process. Our deep desire for trust and a real relationship even though we both are capable of just dating casually. Parenting styles. Co-parenting styles. Business goals. Long term plans. All of it. We fit.
Saturday we go to brunch and Monday we book a weekend getaway to Napa because that is how I roll.
I had to be in Sacramento for work anyway, I left Sunday and he didn’t have he kids that weekend before Christmas. No one was buying me a damn thing and my kid had stuff going with her dad so I said hey! Napa is an hour from Sacramento. Fly in Thursday and let’s stay until Sunday. We can say Merry Christmas to us in wine country this weekend. I used points for one of his flights. Hotels were cheap. Cars cheap. It was like under a grand to get him there and for the car rental and a hotel.
So he spends the week working. I work in Sacramento and we FaceTime every morning and every night. The night before my meetings laying in bed talking, he said I’m going to pray over your day tomorrow. He does, out loud on FaceTime this man prays for me. For wise words and understanding for the ability to articulate to open minds and hearts and do his work. I cry. Tears stream from my face listening to him speak affirmations and intercede on my behalf. This man knows my heart and nurtures my soul.
The day before he arrives I said, go to my house and bring me warm clothes let’s go to Tahoe for one night!!! I’ve never been. Let’s find snow on Christmas. So he does. He goes and gets clothes and packs a bag and brings them to me. We go to Tahoe. Have an amazing time. We laid in the room for hours talking. Learning so much and just creating this real raw intimacy. We had an amazing steak dinner and went to play craps. Lost out asses at the craps table but he turns to me with entirely too much alcohol in his system and says, Emily I am completely in love with you, shit, I wasn’t going to say that for a long time but I am in love with you.
I was SHOCKED. I mean, I knew it. He was fallingl for me the moment we met and the way he looked at me. But really it was the morning after we had gone out dancing. We made sweet perfect love and it wasn’t drunk sex. It was intentional and intimate and amazing and after he said, that doesn’t happen. I knew that he loved me then. I knew I was falling hard for that man then. I knew if the sex was good and it was great... I was in trouble.
Still completely in shock a whopping 10 days from our first FaceTime conversation- the L word had come out of his mouth. I hugged him and kissed and said I’m completely in love with you too and we are fucking morons.
The weekend was amazing. Wine country is stupid romantic. The food, drinks, and scenery. We are perfect and so happy. We get to the airport to come home and the internet to the entire airport had been knocked out so like 10 flights cancelled and 5 hours of delays with thousands of people missing flights.
He calmly rebooks us for the following day, finds and adorable Airbnb in old town Sacramento and takes me for Mexican food and margs. I was so amazed. No stress. Nothing he could do about the delay. He solved our problem and made the best of it. I could not ask for more.
Not to compare them as people but in contrast, when I was coming home from Europe and in line for customs with 45mins to get to my gate or miss my next flight, the world traveler was losing his shit. I mean cussing, blaming people around us for being slow, wanting to cut the line, it was embarrassing. I had a 300lb manchild throwing his at that point usual fit in an airport of strangers.
So my anxiety was high, knowing Mr Handyman has kids at home he wants to try and see and a company to run and fires to fight. He was so easy and calm and just kissed me and told me not to worry.
Where did this angel of a man come from and what kind of crack was his crazy ex smoking that she traded this lover in for a chance at private plane money and a bigger yacht? Thank you Jesus for other people’s stupidity. I know for a fact no amount of money is worth losing this man.
We have had a wonderful holiday together. I have loved knowing him and loving him and I see a future and I am not in a rush. It’s all in gods hands and on his timing. I just thank him every day that I get to have him in my life. That he loves me well and loved me fast and wants me to be happy and sees a life with me in the future too.
Plus he has abs. I thank god for those abs too.
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