It's Me. I'm What's Wrong.

So...things were going well with Dragon.

Let me start by saying it's been a chaotic month. I ended up totally ignoring Philly concerning our second date. He texted me soon after our second date asking about how my race training was going, and honestly I didn't have make time to text him again, so I assumed date #2 was off. And that was fine because things are moving in a direction with Dragon...a direction that I wanted to explore. Still...the guilt that I didn't even have the brass pair to say "sorry, I'm seeing someone else at the moment, but hang tight because I want to still talk." I'd hate for that to happen to me...

In the last post, I mentioned the Dragon was feeling a bit wounded. And by "a bit," I mean he had to be stitched, cauterized, and bandaged while other wounds were opening. He had a rough time at work because of some internal drama that could have signified job loss. Then family drama. Then dealing with pre-existing health issues. It has been this unholy trifecta of defeat. As the girl who always tries to find the catch when things go too well, I found this all too relatable:

He had three days off in a row, and was about to take vacation, so we decided to spend as much time as we could together, especially since my work life was about to swallow me whole. The first night he wanted to take me out to dinner, and when I opened my door when he picked me up, he surprised me with flowers.

I haven't received flowers from someone not a relative in like, five years. And even then they were apology flowers. These were "thank you for being so supportive" flowers. Color me confused: Mr. Non-Committal was giving me flowers. When I called him out on it being a big move for someone who doesn't want to commit, he shyly replied that they weren't roses.

Ok then...

We then enjoyed a nice dinner, and then the next night he took me to a comedy show. I was still stressing out about what he said about the flowers. It's like when you compliment people and they're digging for that extra compliment by denying that they're as awesome as you say they are. I was digging for the extra. Why the flowers? What are we? I don't like using label makers!

After the show, we went back to his place and cuddled on the couch with his cat. My head finding that familiar nook on his shoulder, I felt him jolt up a bit.

"Can I ask you a serious question?"

Crap. No.

"Sure"

"Are you okay where this is going? Because I like that this is no pressure. I don't feel like we're rushing into anything, and I'd like to see where this goes, but only if you were on the same page."

Sure. I definitely liked where it was going. So we decided to keep moving forward.

Flash forward two weeks later...

I had just survived and incredibly hellish two weeks at work, and hadn't had much of a social life. I was elated to talk to him. I was more excited to see him. But he was being a bit scarce. No matter. He knew I was busy, so I just assumed he was busy too. I've always had a hands off rule: if you really want to see me, you'll make time for me. And I'll reciprocate.

That same weekend, I met up with Brother Bear and we had a deep philosophical conversation about love and what our hopes were should we ever find it. I expressed my confusion with Dragon. In his usual cowboy sundown stance he stared me in the eyes and said

" Look. He invited you on a cruise. He said he missed you when he was on vacation. And he makes the time for you. Either he's developing some serious feels for you, or he's a sociopath. A lot of cops are. But he doesn't strike me as that type."

Well...

Dragon and I met at a club the next night, and he was hung over from the night before. I told him that he didn't have to torture himself. But he did. He rolled up looking pale, ice on his shoulder, and eyes like dark slits trying to stay open. He spent some time with me and my friends, but wanted me to walk him out because he wasn't feeling well.

Once we got to his car, he blurted out that I probably noticed he was being scarce. Digging into what was left in my brain bank due to excessive work, little sleep, and twice as much alcohol, I had to ask myself if he was. And then the shocker

"I don't see this going anywhere and I don't want to waste your time. But if you still want to go on a cruise, we could get separate rooms. I still like hanging out with you, but I know I'm not going to be what you're looking for"

So let me break it down for you, dear readers: He wanted to see where this was going, then two weeks later decide that he doesn't, even though he wanted me to take a vacation with him still, and only gave it two weeks to make the decision that it could not be.

I kept my cool, dressed in heels, make-up on, dress cut high, and called him out on his mixed signals and politely told him I understood. I added some sugar by saying that everyone was replaceable. I was drunk on the same politeness and hugged him goodbye. To his shock, he asked if I was upset because I didn't quite show it. Upset, no. Annoyed, yes.

Luckily I had Brother Bear with me that night. He looked perplexed since it took me awhile to walk back to the club. Eyes locked into his I said one word: sociopath.

His jaw dropped, and he ran to the bar to buy me a drink. Brother Bear was annoyed that he read Dragon wrong, and that (in his words) I looked smoking hot that night, and that it was just damn rude of him. I was more or less upset with myself.

I had a moment. All I thought of was that I was what went wrong. I am the common denominator in all of this. Somehow I did something that made yet another man look at me and say that he didn't like where any of it was going. I give space, I give them freedom to run. I lock into the matters of the heart, and they get smothered and break loose. I stay in horrible-for-me relationships, and I am left shattered. I lay static, and nothing happens. I. Am. What's. Wrong.

That next morning still in a drunken stupor, I cried. I didn't cry at what happened, but I cried that this whole "adventure" is wearing on me. I admitted that I wanted something real, for once. And I was equally upset that everything I did was just wrong. It was devastating knowing that I was putting myself out there, and finally feeding into what Dragon was showing, that I forgot to protect myself even more. My best friend rescued me with dessert and shopping. She assured me that I am not wrong and nothing is my fault. Cupid is just cross-eyed and something better is coming along.

Even worse, Dragon still reaches out to me: about the cruise, "checking in," asking if I was mad at him, saying I could still talk to him. And what for? So he could feel better? So he could make what happened better for both of us? Or because I was Plan B, and Plan A worked out so now I'm just knowingly back-up?

And then Philly...

I drunkenly texted him the night it went down and apologized for not getting back to him, and told him how horrible I felt about it. He said it was fine. And I may or may not have made a desperate attempt to secure a second date. I liked Philly. And I made the wrong choice. I should have known tacos were going to be the right way to my heart.

Luckily, he agreed (the next day) that he would love to meet up again. I was grateful because I could spare the embarrassment of drunk texting my own Plan B (there I go again being a hypocrite) after getting a goodbye talk at a club.

What hurts the most is that I still sincerely feel less worthy. However, what happened with Dragon just emphasized how much I need to admit that I want something more. Someone to love me. Someone to love. Someone I could see bearing my children. Someone who sees the light and dark in me and watch to nurture both. Someone who is happy everyday that I am in his life, and needs me there.



(Guys say that want this. I am this. Lies!)

It's frustrating because it's clearly not happening for me. Sure, love and the like should ebb and flow naturally, but there's nothing natural about me. I'm kinetic. No adventure is too sacred. 3 out of 5 messages on my online profile are from men who say I'm surprised I'm single. Hell, I'm surprised too. But who is ready to settle down with a fire spinning dog mom who swears and drinks like a sailor after baking cupcakes? Someone who better be damn special.

Someone who isn't here yet.

So after taking mini breaks in between confident single woman proclamation and self-wallowing, I met up with Philly and had an amazing time. And in my state of uncertainty and anxiety, I have hopes it will go further.

But that's another story...

"You Need a Man, Not a Boy"

So says Mindy Kaling, better known as Kelly Kapoor on NBC's The Office.

My best friend and room mate peeked into my recent issue of Glamour Magazine and pointed out the excerpt from Kaling's upcoming book, "Is Everyone Hanging out Without Me? (And Other Concerns)."  My best friend was convinced that I could have written this portion of her memoir. And perhaps, I may even be living it. The Amazon.com review says that this book features "a tour of her life and her unscientific observations on romance, friendship, and Hollywood, with several conveniently placed stopping points for you to run errands and make phone calls."

I adore Ms. Kaling. She describes herself as a bit of an anti-hero for giving advice. She says, " I’m not married, I frequently use my debit card to buy things that cost less than three dollars, and... I’m kind of a mess." But she's accomplished her goals of being an actress and a writer, which gave her the confidence to tell women everywhere that dating men isn't a terrible thing. In fact, she equates it to freshly ground peanut butter. Where is this woman and why aren't we chatting via email?

You guessed it, I was sold.

I have always been a sucker for celebrity memoirs. Who else could have such wonderful and absurd observations of life? I've found that those who write memoirs do so for people like me: The curious, the observant, the zest-for-lifers.

So I started to read what Mindy had to say. Kaling mentioned something about being scared shitless of men. Why? Well, because men know what they want. They're strategists. They own watches and actually look at theml. Basically they were everything that Kaling felt she was not. But haven't we all been there?

I've been asked about what I look for in a man. Lately, especially after a few bad dates, I've learned that what I want is rather simple: a funny man who treats me well and has his shit together. Looks don't totally matter, but I'd be lying if I said they didn't bear some importance. You're only so much of a good man till I see your double chin...s.I'm not saying I have everything together at 26. However, I'd love to spend some time with people who look clever enough to be living like a real grown-up! I write this as I stare at my Hello Kitty metal lunchbox. Clearly, being a responsible adult is a clever disguise for me.

I could totally relate to Mindy. She claimed that up until she was 30, all she was dating were boys. What's her definition of boys?

Boys can pack up their whole life and move to Brooklyn for a gig if they need to. Boys have “gigs.” Boys are broke. And when they do have money, they spend it on a trip to Colorado to see a music festival.

Here's where I run into the issue of finding a man with a sense of adventure. Most guys who are adventurous are broke as a result of their excursions. Beer festivals aren't cheap, ladies. She goes on to talk about a the first "real man" she dated at 25. I'm tickled by the fact that she gave him the code name of Peter Parker. Spiderman's alter ego was apparently this intimidating, condescending jerk who, like most males out there, dishes out unsolicited advice.

SIDENOTE: If I have any male readers, please listen. When a lady wants to vent to you, you just sit there and listen. Don't offer to fix things because that's what she wants her best friend to do. You stand there, give her a drink, look pretty, hug her, tell her she's pretty, and you'll have the most effortless time dealing with her nonsense. Do we like to admit this? No. But men, I just saved you half an hour of listening to her pointless and painful crying and yelling, and spared you the risk of being at fault for her silly, girly emotions.

Back to the awesomeness that is Mindy Kaling.

She went on to say that while he was a jerk, she admired that he didn't shy away from commitment. Here's where I really started to want to read on. She assured me, the curious reader, that this isn't one of those books where she's going to vent about men and their fear and lack of commitment. Instead, she says that she admires that Parker, and other men, commit to things. She "wants a man who is entrenched in his own life." Wow...never thought of it that way. But I suppose it goes with what people have always said. You can't love another until you love yourself. The same can be said for commitment. If one can't commit to any one thing, who's to say that he or she can't commit to you and your needs?

But that's what makes this experience with Coffee Shop Boy so endearing. While I did give him the simple moniker of Coffee Shop Boy, he's pretty much a man. He is committed to buying a house. Two even! He owns his car and his motorcycle. He dresses well and does his homework at a coffee shop on his laptop, refusing to be swayed by the activity all around him. He won't even let the almighty Internet take him off task! That's right. I peeked over his shoulder a few times the nights I saw him. Not once did he check YouTube or Facebook for any nonsense. I found it rather attractive.

I'm curious to read about what else Ms. Kaling has to say about men and dating. I truly am at the point in my life where I'm ready to find a man who wants to take care of me, and who will let me take care of him too. I'm not going to go all domestic diva on him, but I look forward to the day when I help him decide if that sock really is black or blue. I want to learn how to tie his tie, so I can do it for him before he goes to work. All the while, I hope to explore life's little adventures, knowing that I can share them with the man who's grateful I helped him figure out if he chose the right colored socks.

"Is Everyone Hanging out Without Me (And Other Concerns)" will be available nationwide and online on November 1st. Here is the link to read the post on Glamour.com. You can also pick up the November issue at retailers everywhere.