Thursday, January 22, 2015

Dating episode 2- Man Boobs, Wine and Moving On

So, I feel mostly "moved on."  Which is good considering I'm trying to date. I just don't how rational is it to think you can move on from a husband and family that's no longer in your life. 

But I'm giving it the ole college try.

In a rare moment of clarity I realized that I'll never truly move on from what I leave behind. There's too much there. I spent a long time deleting pictures off social media (a lot of pics, like over 500) of my pre-life before being told "SIJCD".  (Sorry I Just Can't Deal). 

I don't think I can "move on" in the way I was expecting. 

I hate that, by the way.  Wait til some well meaning person tells you it's time to move on when you're in the midst of trying your best to freaking move on and see if you don't wanna punch them. 

It's making it hard for me. Because I still desire to know what going on with the kids, what they are are up, how they are doing.  There are no visitation rights for ex-stepparents even thought you spent 4+ years of your life loving your kids. And if I'm being honest and transparent as I try to be, it's hard to move past someone who was your best friend. Who knew the ins and outs of you. The things that annoyed you and the things that made you most happy. It's not normal to have to move away from your best friend. 

It's especially glaringly obvious when you go on date after date of people that make it really annoying to be back in the dating world. 

But what had happened was, the person calling the shots decided that we couldn't make it because life is supposed to be rainbows and fairy tails and unicorns shooting out your butt every day. And when that doesn't happen*, it negates your wedding vows and you can wave the white flag. 

* I'm not an attorney and I'm still waiting for an attorney to verify those are solid grounds for divorce in the State of FL, so this whole thing needs to be taken with a grain of salt because, truthfully, I'm leaning on my own interpretation.*

To his defense, since I'm waxing legal here, we went thru some major crap.  So I can't be mad that the unicorns and rainbows being replaced with all kinds of tragedy were hard to overcome. 

Still. It's annoying that what was joined together, was torn apart.  SIJCD happens and you redirect your sails. Blah blah. 

So I won't move past. But I've understood, in a whole new understanding, that I outgrew where I was. Unfortunately that means I leave behind the ones who weren't ready or able or wanting to grow. And I have I be ok with that. 

And I am. 

So I date. 

Keep reaching and you find something, right?  


Keep reaching and you get cut. 

My dating life debacles arent lonely as I have many close friends going thru this hell with me.  It's more fun when you can  commiserate over a glass (case) of wine of the dating woes we face. 

I have dated a lot of guys. A lot. I have Cowboy, I have Roloff, I have Hitman, I have Loves His Mama a Lik Too Much For Comfort, I have Bartender, I have Irish, I have Severe Accent, and Man Boobs. 

What I have is a mess of way too many degenerates that should be exciled from the dating pool. 

I've been on some lovely dates with some lovely men. They are true gentlemen and deserve the best, just not the best of me apparently as they fell flat and short. 

I wasn't their cup of tea, they weren't my bottle of champagne.  It happens. 

I can talk about everything. To a wall. How it's possible to not have anything in common is beside me.  But that's the joys (sucky side) of dating. 

Moving on, tongue in cheek, of course. 

Was talking to a girlfriend, watching Biggest Loser and this grossly obese man became this hot specimen of a man and we both sat there in silence. Didn't know what she was doing til she texts a mutual friend of her ex and asked this "he's still fat, right??  PLEASE TELL ME HES STILL FAT."  

He's still fat 

There was a moment of Thanksgiving. 

Another was upset that a guy she was interested in wasn't being honest with her. She came to the understanding that "when someone shows you who they are, believe them." 

Good advice. 

My 2 cents, yes, believe them. Then check Facebook to see how many kids, wives, addictions, they are hiding. People love being bold on fb. 

I hate dating. Hate. Loathe. Is there a bigger word than loathe?  I don't want to go thru the minutia and crap and platitudes that go along with it. 

I'm 36 and back at it. Shouldn't there be a fast pass lane for those who've already been there, done that and have the 37 last names to prove it? 

I just want real. 


I don't need a fairytale, I hate Disney. Just give me special. 

Honestly, I want a husband and a billion screaming kids running around driving us crazy. 

I digress. 

You meet...

"Here's my story......wanna chat?"  

That happened once before and became quite the beautiful love story. 

Until it didn't.  

We had a nice run. Being the bigger person here. 

I've married for love. That kicked me in the teeth and I lost all kinda confidence, hope, joy, dreams, wha wha whaaaaaaaa. 

I'm marrying for money this time. 


So I'm back in the dating pool of fun. Haha, spit out my wine on that lie. 

I'm back at the dating game. 

For what?  If I wanted easy, I'd have gotten it by now. If I wanted fake, coulda had it too. If I could get past the sparkling light glaring off Man Boob's too tight polo that was blinding me to everything else but that unfortunate sight, I could have had that. If I wanted a sugar daddy to buy me a rose gold Rolex, dang, the offer was presented. 

But this heart of mine, beaten, stomped on, broken and healed is wanting something special. 

And I'm not settling.  

I know what I bring to the table. A whole lotta crazy.  I'm self aware, that should account for something. And if someone gets past the first 15 chapters of "Uh, what?  No way.." that's been my life, I feel pretty confident that there's a man who will be the person I love, respect, adore and grow old will. We will celebrate our milestone marriages. Maybe not married 50 years together but 50 years combined marriages out of the 2 of us and all our past baggage should at least give some fodder for laughter at what's to come.  

That's me looking at the bright side of this crap. 

Not bitter, not mad, just hopeful and believing. If I've spent so many years being placed #2, #3, #4 behind what he loves most, I can't even begin to image what will happen when I find a guy who makes me first, only second to his relationship with Christ. 

So I'll go out with the Munsons, The Broken, the Bitter, the Obnoxious, the Runners in search of the beautiful. 

Until then, I'll date. (Gag, puke, barf) and hold steady til I find the man who will help me shoulder the load of my crap and will let me help lessen the load of his. 

Onward and upwards my single friends!  I'm raising my glass of wine to you!  

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