How can I be glad I’m not with him but yet I miss him? Fucking weird. Love is fucking weird.Thursday, 7:10 p.m.
So I’ve got this mentoring personality. I love to help people connect with their own awesomeness. I’m realizing I need to drop this when I’m dating people.
Instead of trying to build up I need to just see what they are. Truly.
And pay very, very close attention to things that bother me. Cuz men’s are not themselves the first two months. Okay perhaps some men are. And perhaps women aren’t either. But I am. To a fault. Everywhere in my life.
Heart on my sleeve baby.
As my daughter tells me and I didn’t understand, I need to guard my heart. Now I see what she means. Guard your heart until you see what’s up.
I was doing great-ish back in May. Had broken up with Hoppy four weeks prior. Had found one FWB and was interviewing another. Hinge slipped past my No Relationship, Only Fun gatekeepers. Here’s how and here’s how I thought I was in love.
#1 I thought cute pineapple shirt meant out of the box.
He wore the cute pineapple shirt on our first date which made me think he was different. He never wore that shirt again in three months with me. I wonder why? It just seems strange as I had told him how much I liked it and even bought him a coaster with a pineapply thing on it. I thought that shirt said he was out-of-the-box, something he tried to sell me that he was. But he wasn’t.
He was very in the box.
Which okay, you know rock your own bad self. But that’s not what I want.
In the box as in his normal gear is golf wear not pineapple shirts.
In the box as in his favorite Friday night activity was to grill and watch America’s Got Talent.
In the box as in telling me he didn’t like the idea of my planned half-sleeve tattoo, that I didn’t need it to be “beautiful” (I told him the first weekend and he thought it was fine; he brought it up weeks later)
In the box as in living in the whitest, most chain store and restaurant area in the metro area
In the box as in not taking adventures on his own
As in he worried about a little PDA if we were in his hood but not other places, like when he came to school and leaned over and kissed me in the hall! Hell no. That’s not in the box; that’s just asshole.
#2 He talked the talk.
I’d never been with a dude who could communicate. I was enamored. I’d lay my head on his chest post-coitus and he’d tell me how fucking awesome and gorgeous and amazing I was. Who doesn’t like that?
Outside of the bedroom however he was so fatherly with communication. I do not want that. I was scolded for putting the spoon I’d just stirred my coffee with back on the counter. I was told my car was awful. I learned that you must wash the dishes fully before putting them in the dishwasher. Other fatherly talking was just telling me too many details about boring shit. Also he always wanted to teach me something. 95% of the time I already knew it. 3% of the time it was interesting. 2% of the time I didn’t know it and didn’t care.
#3 He was too much THE MAN.
Ugh his politics. Which I knew very quickly. He wasn’t a Trumper. That shit would have been over before his pineapple shirt was buttoned.
He didn’t think Trump was Satan. He is though. He is Satan.
I stopped trying to talk politics with him because he’d jump all over what I was trying to say. I don’t wish to debate. I wish to converse and listen and learn. Which we’d get around to, sometimes, if I had enough patience. He thought he was learned because he had watched Fox News AND CNN. I made the point that I didn’t want trash entering my brain and why not find some good sources to read?
He said too many things that were so politically incorrect. From jokes about Mexicans to homophobic jokes; these came out more in the last month or so. Early on it was stupid Facebook memes. He went to a drag Bingo in the first two weeks and put a $5 in his mouth for the queen to take so I thought he was cool. He’s not.
#4 He was cranky.
He actually found a manager at his local grocery store to complain that there were no plastic baskets and then I had to hear all about it. He’d call the rental office to complain about the carpet not being vacuumed in the hallway. Whatever. But then I had to hear about it. He was constantly complaining and they were first world problems, all of them. He was sort of trying to be funny with it. I think? It wasn’t funny though.
#5 Bleh. There’s more but I’m not feeling it.
Thing is he was great too. And that’s why I stayed. He encouraged me, helped me, cooked for me, helped with a lot of shit I had to do, sometimes he listened to me. He thought I was smart and beautiful and amazing. The sex was off the charts.
How can I be glad I’m not with him but miss him? Fucking weird. Love is fucking weird.
No more posts about Hinge Date #1. Looking ahead darlings.