I just feel let down.  When I met Adam I had such a strong feeling about him.  Mel thought I would marry him before I started dating him, just from talking about him.  I really figured him for a man I could live with and marry and make children with.  I thought I could go the distance with him.  I am surprised that I was conned by such a quitter and a drama queen. I am surprised that I fell for a man who ended up so unequivocally wrong for me, yet I do wonder this time around if there is a man who is right. I find amazing women. I befriend incredible women. I have relationships with these women that build me up and validate who I am. I feel better about my life and me because of these friends.

I don’t really even know why this relationship ended, which makes it even weirder that it is ending now.  But, what made me hurt was that Adam was not content about anything.  He was not content having sex with me.  He did not feel our activities were that great.  He found that after a very long 8 months of having sex with just me that he missed having sex with other people.  He was not content with our relationship or anything.  He did not like where I lived.  It was too far from SF and the neighborhood sucked being right next to such a loud and sucky bar.  He thought that using condoms felt bad and he was mad at me for enforcing them.  He thought that I was too involved and boisterous, and he was resentful at the ease in which I connected with people and made friends. That is the current list.

I wonder if it is possible to find a man who loves me a lot and is healthy.  That’s what I wonder.

– I worked till 5pm on Friday, came home and crashed for a two hour nap.  I then got all my inventory ready until 2am in the morning because I had signed up to do a craft show in Sacramento and then I went to bed just to get up a mere 4 hours later to be on the road at 6:30 am to help teach a clay demonstration from 8:30 am – 3:30pm to a crew of developmentally challenged adults.  Shenny (my awesome friend) then took me out for a quick bite to eat – we met up with Meaghan and Char (equally awesome ladies) hung out for a half an hour and then high-tailed it down town to set up for the second Saturday “Sip and Shop” craft fair.  That went from 5:30 till 9:30pm. After that we met back up with Meaghan and Char and went to bars and dance clubs to celebrate Meaghan’s birthday.  We did not get to bed until 3am. THREE A.M.!!!!  

 Honestly that is a bit obscene for me.  Then, I woke up the  following morning at 10am – showered and ate brownies (that was what was left from our late night festivities. I then packed all the stuff up into my car – dropped Shenny back home and met up with my “date” at the coffee place down by the beach.  When I got there I was half an hour late (I called to warn him I was running behind schedule).  I was exhausted, starved and totally parched.  I said – did you get a coffee? And he said “no, I’m not really thirsty.” And I said. Well I am – I’m going to get something – if you want anything it’s one me.  But he declined.  So I grabbed a tea and a banana (I seriously thought I was going to die from lack of sleep and lack of real food).  Then I ate my banana in three bites, downed my tea and hit the sand for our “date walk”.  So we walked and I asked questions and he answered them.  I guess I broached on a few topics that made him feel uncomfortable because he shut me down and said that he was not ready to talk about his sister with me just yet.  So I fell silent and thought in my head “then ask ME something you fuck head!” but he didn’t.  So I veered the conversation (interview might be a more appropriate word) into safer territory and asked him about his favorite local places to eat.  I mean if that is too personal for you to share then we are calling this date finished right here and now.  But that seemed safe enough and he said that his neighborhood did not have good places to eat.  Really?

Don’t you live in the Haight?

“yes”.

Oh.  I did not say anything at first – but my head started reeling from all the places that came to mind.  The Pork Store, Cha,Cha,Cha’s, The Citrus Club, Ploy II.  YES Ploy II – that’s one of my FAVs.

have you ever been to Ploy II?

“yeah, I have and I was not impressed.”

REEEEEALLLLY?

“I don’t really like Asian food.”

The rest of the conversation played out in my head and it went pretty much exactly like this

WHAT THE FUCK DUDE? You don’t like Asian food?  Asian is NOT a TYPE of food – it is a MASSIVE umbrella that overlooks DOZENS of TYPES of foods like

1.Thai

2. Korean

3. Nepalese

4. Chinese

5. Vietnamese

6. Japanese

7. Indonesian

8. Indian

9. Pakistani

10. Dim Sum (different than plain Chinese b/c you have to go to a dim sum place!)

11. lots more that I must be forgetting.

Unfortunately, Mr. N does not like ANY of these.

This is the point were the conversation resumes in real time and gets out of my head.

So, what type of food do you enjoy?

“American. Oh, and French.”

Oh.

I was able to talk him into going to a taqueria with me.  I ordered something that came to a whooping 8 bucks and looks like he did not think I was worth the 8 bucks to treat.  So I paid for mine.  Even Shenny treated me last night and she knew she didn’t have a chance in hell of me putting out nor did she WANT any of my ass – (She IS married [and actually we DID sleep together in Meaghan’s spare room] …).  Oh well. What evs.  *(I guess this is a great point to add in the thought that maybe Mr. N knew he did not have a chance in hell of getting laid and or he did not want any of my ass).

I have no idea how to really read this date except that he kept talking about “Social Mores” which I was not familiar with.  Usually when people use words that I am unfamiliar with I just stay in the game and wait for them to keep flexing their vocabulary until they use an alternate word, something I know, in this case norms, virtues, values, conventions (I could go on and on [now]) but he did not.  He just kept saying “MORES, MORES, MORES”.  So I finally said – you know, that is not a word I use – why don’t you tell me what “more” means.  And he said “oh. A more is…” and I interrupted and said it was Italian for “love”.  He replied with “that’s not funny”. 

Oh.  I think he may have been joking, but I really did not know for sure.

We talked about how funny online dating is and how there seems to be no closure.  You go out on these dates and you have an “adventure” and then you never hear from the person again.  We both agreed that this was weird and that within online dating all social “mores” are out the window.

I think this date was no exception.

You see, this man was a man I lived with.  We signed a lease together, we shared a room, we bought things like food, furniture, bedding.  I really loved him.  I thought I would marry him.  But then, slowly at first – I started to feel sad and unhappy.  I didn’t feel like myself.  I lost bits of me.  I laughed less.  I realized I was living with someone who was embarrassed of me, someone who did not share my interests, my passions.  We did not even share a common schedule or appreciation for food.  I tried, I tried really hard, but I don’t know what I was trying or working towards.  Our relationship seemed like everybody’s and everybody’s relationship seemed to suck.  I didn’t want to nit-pick, or complain, or criticize – none of those are part of my nature, but there I was, exercising all of them very often.  I’m a laugher and a smiler, but I cried a lot that year, or two.  I’m a traveler and an adventurer, but I stayed home that year or two.  I’m a dreamer with an amazing imagination – but I don’t recall my dreams that year.  I tried to bike and run and swim, but I wasn’t good enough.  And although these activities had been fun before, they were not fun then with him.

I have always been told that I was/am beautiful – mostly by my mom, but I tell you, 30 years of hearing something and it makes sense due to shear repetition.  I did not feel beautiful during those two years.  I felt alone and glutinous and I was made aware of how my ass did not fit the rest of my body.  I really just want to laugh and feel totally beautiful.  Because, let’s face it, not everyone is beautiful in this world.  In fact there are a hell of a lot of ugly folks - but then they meet people.  They meet someone who makes or actually sees the ugly as beauty.

I’d like my ugliness embraced – turned into beauty.  And I’d like to get laid, but not really – because here it is a year later and my heart still hurts and my head still spins and I’m tired of working towards something that just doesn’t work and I don’t want to break again.

I like being me.  I like laughing.

I still wonder every week and month how this person could shut me entirely out of his life?  I think about him and I imagine he must think about me too.  But that is where I am probably wrong, I mean, I must be – because he is disciplined in a way I will NEVER BE.  But I shared my life, my soul with this man- I lost bits of me for him, because of him.  I’ve passed his neighborhood; I’ve seen him (infrequently) on dates (which I imagine are often).  I’ve contacted him with no response and I’m learning – something – I just don’t know what it is… yet.

something special
in high demand
desired
active,

sexually
maybe you felt that the earrings
assertively stated that you were NOT
too small
or too hairy
or too gay

because you had women
who had lost
a lovely earring
who passed through
your  bed
your home
your life

and you proudly displayed the
souvenir on a bedside table in your room

“Can you turn the light out?”

yes.

yes I can.