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...

JSG's First World Dating Problems

Things have been fairly strange in boyland. I've pretty much given up on The Trainer. The Dragon is having a rough time with everything lately, and has been looking to me for support. I went on an awesome date with Philly, who looks like he's ready to find a committed relationship after a few dates with the right girl.

All that makes for a very confused JSG. I carry myself to be this warrior who protects herself and uses men as distractions. There, I said it. I don't treat men like my little toys, but like a college kid with an empty fridge, I satisfy myself with what I have at the moment. Unfortunately, what I have a the moment is, as Brother Bear loves to call it, a stable full of he-hoes.

Well...that's certainly one way to phrase it.

I'll start with a conversation that I had with one of my dear friends. I usually get my "guy-pinions" from him. We all have that friend (or if you're lucky, many friends) of the opposite sex who we can ask for sage advice about dating. I'll call him The Toymaker. We routinely message and commiserate over what's going on in our love lives. It gets strange sometimes because he has legitimate dating gripes while I have what some may consider first world dating problems. For example, he may simply have a problem getting a girl's number.

First World Dating Problem #1: I have too many names and numbers to remember, and communication gets awkward because I don't remember which conversation I had with which guy.

Is that what a stable full of he-hoes means?

Anyhow I was telling him about my concerns with Dragon and his confusion on what the word commitment means. Merriam-Webster defines one part of commitment to be "the state or an instance of being obligated or emotionally impelled". Funny, because that's the third definition. The first is a consignment to a penal or mental institution. Maybe that's why Dragon says he doesn't want to be in a committed relationship. But I asked The Toymaker about this foolishness. Naturally, he apologized on behalf of men everywhere: the showing and the telling of what Dragon wants is incredibly stupid. However, he says that perhaps Dragon says that because he just doesn't know how to say that he wants that. And The Toymaker reassured me that it's okay to wait until I'm comfortable to have the "who/what are we" conversation when I'm comfortable. Work is going to take away any social life I'll have in the next couple of weeks. He'll be busy leading up to his vacation at the end of the month. What's the crap about love is patient? There I go again with that love business...

(Because when you're behind you're lady, you should know her intentions)

Boom. It hit me: maybe he's protecting himself too. If you don't define it, and you don't scrutinize why you're with someone, you won't get hurt. In fact, maybe no one will get hurt. Once you put a label on it, there is a pressure to live up to what a committed relationship is. A friend (and reader) told me that the key to intimacy is shared vulnerability. Well...I guess we're two peas in a weak pod.

Between work, teaching, and school, he has been grasping to find a balance in his life. Understandably, he's burnt out. And he's doing something that rarely happens these days: he calls me. He had a particularly rough day at work, and I texted the usual sadface emoticon, and said I'm sorry. Then I added the standard empty statement that I'm here if he wants to talk. Be honest: you've said that once or twice before without expecting to do much, but wanting to be a good person and look like you're helping. So he called me. And he called me the night before.

So let me get this straight: Dragon is able to understand that when I say it's okay for him to reach out and talk to me, he does. But if he doesn't want a committed relationship, I follow through, bu he does the total opposite.

What?

After venting for five or ten minutes, I kept reminding him that it's important to take a moment to decompress and just have a moment of "me" time.

"I definitely will. But I am really missing 'you and me' time. That's important to me too"

Phones don't have cords anymore, right? Regardless it felt like it there was one choking me since I couldn't get any words out after he said that.

Any rational typical girl would be flattered to hear those words; to know that someone out there is looking to you and reaching out. What that says is "you are somebody in whom I can seek comfort when I need it the most." I like him. I really do. But I'm ready to smack him with a Funk & Wagnalls.

As a master of creating distractions, I met up with Philly for a taco date. First World Dating Problem #2: Too many of my dates go too well. I assure you I'm not easy. I just have mostly great dates. We had very few lulls in conversation, the chemistry was there, and it was simply fun. Throughout the night, we were joking about our experiences on the dating website. Then it started to become an experiment for me. I let the cat out of the bag and asked how long he had been on the site. He told me a few years, and met his last long relationship on the site. I told him it had only been a few months for me. And boy what a few months, am I right?!

The more we talked about dating, the more I thought I was going to be found out: he, not I, brought up dating blogs, research, and the like, and how he found it interesting that people would examine dating so much. I hope my face didn't shift much when he mentioned "blog"...

He also told me his bad experiences: no attraction (a big thing for him apparently) in personality and looks, girls who lied about their pictures (I know that all too well), and finding girls who weren't 100% single.

Wait. Do I fit into that category?

I told him the same half-truth I told The Teacher: I'm on the site to meet new people because it's hard to date as a busy person. I slipped in that I have been on a few dates since being on the site. I was hoping he'd leave it at that so I can avoid feeling guilty sneaking texting plans with Dragon and breaking plans with The Trainer when Philly would get our drinks or use the restroom. The stable overfloweth.

Regardless, I decided that he was worth a second date. Maybe then I'll have my answer on what to do. Hell, maybe not. The only thing that makes sense is to tell Philly in person on our date that I am going on dates with other people too in an effort to figure out what it is I want.

Honestly, it is just becoming too much. I am clearly a glutton for punishment. I can't wait around for Dragon to figure out his part of whatever it is we're doing. But I can't deny myself figuring out who is the right kind of man for me. That being said, I also can't be unfair to Philly. He wants to date a girl who's not committed. Sorry cupcake, I don't exactly know if that's the case right now. Just for fun let's do a side-by-side (theoretically speaking) comparison of the two:

Dragon: Full-time cop, part-time teacher, student. Plans on going to law school. Not a flight risk, so he stays local. Bucket list includes lots of traveling. Not closer with family. Doesn't want a committed relationship. Chaotic schedule. Seeks intimacy and attachment when he can, how he can.

Philly: Full-time tech at a retailer, has side business, entrepreneurial spirit. Doesn't totally know about future plans. Potential flight risk. Close to family. Will go on a few dates hoping it will lead to committed relationship. Also enjoys traveling.

JSG is in a bind. Both are equally attractive in both personality and looks. And I know Brother Bear told me that nobody gets dating right (duh) and that it's okay to be attracted to more than one person. However, I wonder if I'm the only one in this situation where I can walk into my stable, ready to brand the hide that's mine. It seems like most people are usually in the pig pen, running ungracefully through mud, trying to catch the slippery pig they want to turn into bacon. First World Farming Problems?

These are the places I've come to fear the most. I've built walls around my heart, and protected myself since my last relationship (or three). And little by little it's crumbling down. But behind my thick, steel bubble, I am incredibly fragile. I crave intimacy from one person. One special person. It's just taking a lot of trial and error. As a goal-oriented fool, I'm doing what I can to make this happen. I've been mostly patient, but I also know that sitting in my castle, looking out the window for a suitor isn't going to do me very well.

And I hope these men understand that too. I may be foolish to assume that Dragon and Philly aren't dating other girls. Because that's what I'm doing. Why wouldn't they? But what it really comes down to is that going from a serial monogamist to a repeated first-dater is a large adjustment. And I'm continuing to learn about myself (mostly my failures as a partner). As I'm finally letting Dragon see the softer side of me, Philly is stepping in to also find a place in my heart.

All I really wanted was tacos...this weekend I got a wounded Dragon, a worthy jouster, and a puzzled heart.

My Armor is Weak

I joke that my knight in shining armor is more likely to be a knight in rusty tinfoil. That's not to say that the damsel doesn't protect herself as well. While I am a lady who carries my femininity with care, I am also a warrior who fights to protect what is mine:

My heart. Whether these men realize it or not, that is what they fight for. I didn't put myself out there just to get free dinner and have all the fun adventures. No, those are the stops on the journey, not the destination. Ultimately, I do want to reward someone the prize of my heart. But experience has taught me that men need to fight for it. I have handed it from my weak, unsteady hands, and even tossed it to the closest one who stretches out his arms.

Not this time. The biggest change I've experienced on this leg of the journey is that I have multiple knights out there at the ready. It's my call whether or not they even get the chance to joust.

This is why I am so enamored with fire play. It's the manipulation and control of an element that's particularly dangerous, but without it I feel vulnerable. I joke with my show family that I try to treat my performances as burlesque with fire because if you take that away from me, I'm only a girl, wide-eyed and imagining the crowd naked right before a speech. Fire protects me. I devise so many ways to protect myself from the dangers of falling hard for someone.

Even The Trainer called me cynical. It was the night I got tequila sassy while texting him. The irony is that I was calling him out on whether or not he'd behave the next time he saw me (which he did, and that's definitely fine). He kept saying he would. And one of the philosophies I've carried for years came from one of my best friends. He always said to believe nothing you hear and half of what you see. Well, that's exactly what I told The Trainer. I'm fairly certain that the statement sounded like a cynical drunken mess.

It's true though. Maybe I should rephrase it as this: believe nothing you hear, half of what you see, and deny nothing you feel.

Before I post, I like to go back to what I've written early on in these (mis)adventures. One such post was about trusting one's gut. My friend is a beautiful divorcee who still continues to have her own dating adventures. Like anyone else who tries it, she has her hits and misses, but comes out of each experience with a wealth of knowledge.

"Your gut never lies. Trust your gut."

Yeah, I could do that, but I'm stubborn and imaginative. Why oh why would I try to face the reality of any situation, especially if I can manipulate it into something I can control? Something that I can use to protect myself from what could harm me?

That brings me to Dragon. He continues to challenge me and peel back the layers of who I have the potential to be. My efforts to keep the wall between us are failing. My veil is slipping, and the bricks are cracking. I can't deny that he is where I want to be anymore. I know this contradicts what I've said recently, but I also know finding other distractions (The Teacher, Philly, etc.) isn't going to hide the truth.

Dragon shows me. He shows me what he wants and needs from me, and more often than not, I hesitate to reciprocate. This creates a struggle for me because it's not fair to hold back what I know I have to give, but he still wears a red stamp on his forehead that screams non-committal.

But what am I seeing?

I spent most of my weekend with him. Saturday before he went into work, he stopped by to catch up on the episodes of our show he missed the week before. Without fail, he always puts his arms around me on the couch, and he rests his head on my shoulder. I usually find myself upright, gently grazing his hand to hold it, but never making myself to comfortable, even on my own couch. Because giving in means making the most vulnerable part of me exposed.

Yet isn't that what being with someone is? I fail to remember that dating isn't a straight and narrow course. Yeah, even with all my dating experiences, I forget. It's not meeting Person A, 3-5 awesome dates, The Talk, and on our merry (marry? No way, I forbid that) way. It's complex and confusing. Being with someone, whether you intend to be with him/her for a little or a lot-tle, means giving a piece of you to share and trusting that you are safe in his/her care.

So Dragon stayed for an episode, and again we found ourselves in my bed. After all was said and done, I was in his arms again, sharing laughs and dozing off for a cat nap before he had to leave. The funny thing is that this time, I fell into his arms. I purposely curled into him to listen to his heart beat. I traced my fingertips behind his ear to his shoulder to understand the power of his arms, and why I am trusting them to protect me.

I'm trusting him with this part of me.

He then did his short shift at work, then invited me to watch his friend's band play. We only stayed for a little bit, but he looked at me as we were leaving to ask if I was hungry. I knew he had been putting in a lot of hours at work and at school, so I know he was tired and not eating that well. Instead of picking up something quick and heading back to his place, he decided to cook me dinner. It was as lovely as it sounds. It was really late, so the fact that we went to pick up groceries so he can make something was incredibly kind and unexpected. I even felt guilty that I didn't help, but mostly it was because I was taken aback by it. We even had a laugh because we picked up $2 plastic mini wine bottles to enjoy with our meal.

After dinner, we watched a few videos. I then saw the time and it was approaching dawn. Though I hesitated, I decided to stay overnight with the stipulation that I would leave early to make it home to my dog. I was tired and the ride home would be dangerous after a few drinks. But we shared another intense session together, hands held, eyes locked, feeding into each other's desires. I wanted to wake up with him much later in the day. It felt nice knowing that every time I tossed or turned, he'd reach for me.

Later that day, when he came over we lay on the couch to watch the current episode. But this time I stretched out my arms and brought him closer to my heart, still rattling in its cage, slowly making an escape. I caressed him and felt him melt into me. I want to trust him with that part of myself, and I am slowly allowing him to do so. I was starting to show him that I can be open...because he trusts himself to be open with me.

My armor doesn't offer the finest protection. I am the first to admit that. But after all the walls I've built, and all the times I've carelessly treated my heart, I know I eventually need to let someone in. Dragon is certainly giving it a fighting chance.

I have a doggy date with The Trainer this week, and dinner date with Philly next weekend. I don't know what that means for what's been going on in my heart. The Dragon has by no means tamed me, but other suitors are lining up to try. I need to be open with Philly and let him know I am dating other people...

...because Dragon may soon take the damsel away from her castle and into a different leg of her journey.

Dating: Shopping Without Buyer's Remorse

I haven't been posting as much because all has been quiet in the dating world. That doesn't mean I don't have anything to say about it though!

Let's start with Dragon. He's been continuing the usual good morning/good evening texts like a doting partner but while he's trying to make up his mind about me, I've been exploring other options. That and his schedule is exploding as mine is about to in the next few weeks. I rather enjoy this break from him. That's right cupcake: you can miss me.


Sure we have randy fun, but I'm still shopping, as my friend would say. I'm looking to sample the selection, and make an educated buying decision as opposed to dealing with buyer's remorse after some heavy retail therapy. Another friend told me awhile ago that the difference between men and women when they shop is that women are tangible shoppers: we like to touch items to figure out of it's something we want. Men on the other hand go into a store with an idea of what they need, look at it, and then buy.



(Dating remorse is greater than or equal to buyer's remorse)

What does that say about the fairer sex? In my experience, men and women date at the same rate. However, men are more upfront about what they want and what they expect. What they show for it after a shopping trip is a whole other story! Women will try one six pairs of knee-high, leather sole, black boots with a 2-inch heel before finding the right pair. Even then, there's no guarantee they'll ever make it out of the box. The same can be said for my dating adventures. I live in boots. But I'll never be satisfied, and there is always a better pair that comes along.

Ah, but what about The Trainer?

Well, we're still sass texting, as he likes to call it. He had a meeting today to figure out his next move. I guess it wasn't worth telling me how it went. Regardless, I'm enjoying some time with him on a much more innocent level. The other night we watched a movie at his place, and hung out with his dog. Let me paint the picture: it was the quintessential bachelor pad. Unfurnished. Stains all over the carpet. Stuff everywhere. Messy? Slightly. Cluttered? Definitely. Livable? If you're a sports trainer. He had supplements everywhere, a massage therapy table, and other strange-looking medical tools. Not surgical, but...machinery I suppose. He had a roommate which was no big deal. But we were going to watch a movie.

In his room. On his bed. Naturally, I was concerned about where this would go. Being the dog-lover I am though, I paid more attention to him than The Trainer. That in turn created a dog barrier between us on the bed. His dog loved my cuddles. Before we watched the movie we just talked a lot. And that was nice. I won't know the outcome until he tells me, but The Trainer has been kind and fun. Honestly I am 100% okay if he leaves and what I got out of this was a friend who I enjoyed a few dates with. If he stays? Well...what if he wants to commit but I'm not there quite yet?

(Red lipstick can make any girl feel glamorous)

That's what I'm worried about. I feel like I've gotten into this groove of dating. This isn't going to the grocery store begrudgingly after work because I need paper towels. No, this is going to the department store and trying to find the perfect red lipstick: the kind that glides on your lips with ease, never sticking to your hair, or chapping your lips. It's trying to find the one where you twist the case, the top snaps perfectly. The kind that makes you feel rich. That's what dating is like for me now.

After many talks with Brother Bear, he has convinced me to relieve myself of guilt. These men are on a need-to-know basis. All they need to know is that I'm happy being with them in that one moment. If they want more of those, they have to show they deserve them from me. I'm not going to be the girl looking at her phone wondering why he hasn't texted; I'm going to be the girl talking to someone else because he made the time for me.

I had this thought tonight. I went to one of my favorite restaurants and sat at the outdoor bar, sipping on a tequila sour and slowly savoring a huge slice of French silk pie. I was wearing my uniform of dress and boots sitting by myself. I was mostly on my phone because I didn't want to really interact with anyone. This was my time to be happy and alone. Happy and alone. These adventures fulfill and enrich me, but my time alone to go with these (mis)adventures has taught me that taking risks and forcing myself into new experiences helps me understand my needs. Dating others makes me consider what it takes to date myself.

Marilyn Monroe is known for being the envy of women and the desire of men. Norma Jean created a character that was to be desired. Many men fawned over Marilyn, but beneath the dresses and that sultry smile, she was still Norma Jean. As one of the most sought-after women in the world, anonomity was nearly impossible. Photographer Ed Feingersh printed a series of photos called 4 Days in New York. Sure enough, as she was hanging on a train strap on a subway, no one paid her any mind. With an innocent smile, she asked Ed if he wanted to see "her." With a rustle of her platinum blonde hair and a minimal back arch, eyes moved like magnets to see Marilyn in the subway car. Droves of men flocked to the woman they just passed by.

("Do you want to see her?" Source: Brock Street Gallery & Ed Feingersh)

The point of that story is this: I feel like Marilyn in that situation. Normally I don't pay much attention to how I interact with my surroundings when I eat alone. But lately I've felt poised and sure of myself, but in a very subtle way. Men at the bar were kind and asked me about my dessert. Servers came from inside to ask me if I was doing well. I know it's their job, and maybe it's the nature of that one restaurant but it made me feel good. And it's just not there, it's anywhere I go lately. While I have walls that need to be jackhammered with a quickness, I am enjoying being approachable.

It's not the dresses that hang right on my curves or the right pair of tall black boots that fit perfectly over my muscular calves. It's the way I carry them. The way I carry my men reflects on how successful these adventures will be.

And I have a secret. I'll call him Philly. It looks like I'll be having a taco date soon. While a great way to get my attention is with a 75% sale, tacos are the next best thing.

My Castle, My Rules...Right?

I apologize for my lack of posting. I've been incredibly busy with work, but have decided to take a break from fire hobby so I can focus on other projects. Yes, dating is one of those projects.

After my horrible incident with The Teacher, I thought it would be best to keep my options limited. I'm in between talking to The Trainer, and enjoying some rambunctious fun with Dragon. I still go on to the dating website and respond to messages when I can, but I haven't been as eager to do so. It's a strange game: if a man is too interested, I scale back, especially if he's seeking commitment right away. But if he doesn't make a move soon enough, I move on to the next one. While I don't have time to play any more games than I have already tackled, I surely have time to decide who I'd like to stick around...at least for a little bit.

But The Dragon. Mr. Doesn't Want Commitment. Mr. Texts Me First Everyday. Mr. I'd Like To Hope You Keep Me Around Awhile.

What?

For now, I'm calling it summer love (again, using that term incredibly loosely). I can't convince myself to fall and open the cage to my heart completely without truly understanding his intentions. While I own my castle, he set the rules for us when we started. He is in control of the game, and I'm following his rules. But when he breaks them, I don't feel confident that I should break them too.

Oh, and The Trainer? When Dragon is away, JSG will play. Our texting has gotten a bit heavier. More flirtatious. I guess it's okay to show him a little fun before he may likely have to move right?

Then a funny thing happened. I was at a party with some friends, but kept texting him. The banter between us is electric. Trainer stimulates my mind while Dragon finds other bone-shaking ways to stimulate me. Well, I apologized the next day and blamed my sassy mouth on too many drinks. 

I never did that with Dragon. Am I apologizing because it feels like cheating? That has to be it. Perhaps another part of it is that it isn't fair to The Trainer because leading him on. At least The Trainer was amused by it all. I kept being a tease, and he kept challenging me. I like this game. I just don't like the arena in which we are playing.

Then the guilt...oh the guilt. I was happy that Brother Bear decided to join me for dinner and a couple of drinks the other night, because what I really needed to do was verbally spout emotional diarrhea to someone who would give me real answers and not judge me. He was explaining more of his bad country song life, and I kept getting distracted by my own neuroses. Luckily, he is an incredibly patient friend.

I explained my guilt to him: how can I be with someone who doesn't want to be emotionally invested, but clearly his actions are showing otherwise? And is it okay for me to continue to pursue someone who connects with me emotionally at the same time, especially when he may not stay here for long?

Brother Bear said something that made it slightly better: whoever said you should be emotionally connected to one person at a time doesn't get it. It's okay to have feelings for more than one person.

He put on his feminist cap on and stood on his estrogen soapbox: women have enough pressure to be something for someone, so why make it so they only have to do it for one person at a time?

The female bartender's eyes widened when she heard this, and was grateful that it was said.

I went on to explain that I do have these feelings for Dragon, but I keep them locked up because I don't want to give all of myself to someone who says he doesn't want a commitment right now. Brother Bear pursed his eyebrows at me and said that he's just waiting for me to make that next call. A lazy move, he said, and I have to decide if it's worth it to keep him around.

Listen, Dragon. It's my castle. I like hanging out with you, and I appreciate you protecting the moat, but you have to let other people pass eventually.

As he put down his sandwich for a brief moment, Brother Bear sighed and looked me straight in the eye:

"Is there anything stopping you from walking away"

I was afraid he was going to ask that...

The immediate answer was no. Nothing is stopping me from going, "it's been fun, but go protect another castle." But I had to reassess why I wanted (want) to keep him around.

He's Dragon. He makes me feel safe. I trusted him with a part of me the other night that I wouldn't have shared with any other man, past or present. I'm bound to him because I keep wanting to see where this will go. His ambition is admirable. He has his life together. All he wants is some fun. And really, that's what I want too.

What it comes down to is that I really don't have to make a decision. Brother Bear told me I had options: have the "what are we" conversation and base what I'll do from there, continue to have salacious fun with him and go with the flow, or drop him like a bad habit and move on. Regardless, he said, there is no need for me to feel like I'm doing anything wrong.

And so we're back to where we started. The easiest way for me to handle this is to go with the flow. Dragon said it himself: he's in no rush (right...) and would like to let things unfold naturally. So far, they have. I'm in no rush myself to put a label on a can. The vapid thing is that it would be easier to call him my boyfriend as opposed to "this guy I met online and we have a connection but aren't going to call it a thing quite yet."

I am happy with just letting things ride for now. The only thing that makes this more difficult than usual is that I have someone else who's willing to ride with me too. So while Dragon is chilling in front of my castle, lazily keeping watch while I'm inside, men in tinfoil armor saunter up expecting to walk in.

But will Dragon really step aside...or fight to protect my castle? I clearly chose an ill-trained Dragon.

I'm not ready to fire him yet...for once, I need a man to be convenient for me, not the other way around. You guessed it. Dragon is convenient. Until he mans up and says wants more, this is all he's getting. I'm having fun playing house in my castle.

(Ok Dragon...be a good boy and JSG will think about keeping you longer)

 

If I Lay My Heart on the Table

Sometimes I wonder if I get in-depth enough here when I write. More often than not, I present to you my stories, full of analogies and zany emotional grievances.

But beneath my ribs of steel lies a heart, ready to burst at any given moment; a heart that murmurs nervously more than it beats steadily.

Too often I can't find a happy medium: should I allow myself to give into everything that turns those murmurs into heavy beats, or should I keep it in a cage where it's safe from anything that could touch it?

These are the questions that weigh on my mind. Because how do we know that we are ready to dive in and let go of the things we fear about love and the like? I can preach all day about having fun and not taking things too seriously, but maybe that is really my problem.

I haven't taken myself seriously. My friends can attest to this. I haven't totally considered how the actions of those I allow to walk by my side affect how I love.

But what if I did put my heart out on the table? What would someone say? Someone may examine and see the scar tissue of loves lost and not totally healed. Another might see the stitches I've haphazardly sewn myself because I was too stubborn to let anyone else touch the injured part of me. One person would definitely see the burns which became dark spots, the slowest to recover.

There is a lot going on in my heart, and I assure you not all of it is negative. The parts of my heart that have been hurt the most are the ones I've tried to heal by myself. And the parts of it that are still full of life, are what I want to keep the safest. Those parts are innocent and should not be punished for having good intentions. But experience tells you that exposing your heart means letting people treat it like a specimen...to let it be examined and discarded when it's no longer of use.

Falling in love is scarier to me than jumping out of a perfectly fine aircraft. I walk by myself at midnight and have little fear about what will happen to me. But to expose the ugly, dark side of myself? That's horrifying. There's a struggle when you understand that you can see the bright side of everything. However bright it may be, the light can blind you from seeing what's underneath. That's what happened with CSB when he told me we never were. That's what happened when I decided to continue seeing OGM even though I knew he would move.

I can be selfish and flakey. Rude and obnoxious. Inconsiderate and foolish. Needy and angry. Who wants to see that? I don't like wearing my heart on my sleeve. People who do annoy me. They can't bend and adjust to obstacles. As for me? I try to take the most logical approach to love.

What?

The logical way. Tactical. Having a Plan B in case Plan A doesn't work. To consider all the horrible things that could happen, and creating a mental survival plan because experience taught me that I will get hurt, and I will need to learn to stitch the wounds. Bandages unravel, so I must learn to cauterize.



(Source: zenpencils.com)

Every time I feel my heart try to rattle its cage, I think about the next best way to repair it. Because I know I will let it happen. Believe me, I know it's not the best way to live. And then there's this school of thought: fall in love because it happens naturally, not because the opportunity appears to present itself. Fall in love with the person, not with the act itself.

These thoughts wake me at night. Hell, they prevent me from sleep at night. The difficult part is to dismiss that I am the common denominator in why my relationships crash and burn. The end result is always the same: I learn and move on. Sometimes the end isn't so horrible. Other times, it's devastating.

I'm prattling on because what it comes down to is the biggest question: how much should I hold back from falling for someone? One of the mothers I adopted sympathized with me one time. She told me she falls fast, hard, and at one point very often. I tend to do the same. In an effort to protect what's left of my heart, I hold back. I put on this front that I can move on. It's not me, cupcake...it's you. My time is valuable and I don't want to waste it falling in love only to hit the ground hard. I've done it enough. I don't know how much more my heart can handle. I don't know how many other hands I can trust to touch it.

My burlesque mama is of a different school of thought: enjoy it, but never settle. If I enjoy it, that's how I get blinded by the deceptive rays of something good. It's this game I tend to lose very often.

And then there's TD.

• The way he kissed my shoulder the first time while he was capturing video of my dog acting like a fool for her toy.
• The way he melted into my back while we watched TV
• The way he leaned over, closer to hold my hand while we lay on the couch
• The way he traced my back with his hands and I felt a surge charge all the way from my toes and up to my lips where I met his

And then...

• The way I melt into his arms when he reaches for a hug
• The way I found the perfect nook on his shoulder to lay so I felt safe in his arms
• The way I look forward to hearing him tell me sweet dreams every night
• The way I smile when he asks me to let him know I walked safely into my home and my doors are locked
• The way I felt when he smiled at my excitable reaction to the end of my favorite show

It has been one week of this. Not to say that anyone should put a time stamp to matters of the heart, but when your heart is healing, it knows what it needs for nourishment. I wasn't expecting it this soon, and especially not from him.

Again it's just the way he is so open with me. By showing me he can be comfortable giving the caring part of himself to me this soon, it's like he's giving myself permission to do the same. I guess that's how it's supposed to be...

With bated breath and one eye open, I find the key to the cage. The hesitation is still there, but my hand is holding the key, resting in the lock, almost ready to release it into someone else's hands where I can trust that they will help me heal it so I don't have to do it on my own for awhile...

Do you Wanna Dance?

So...The Dragon may not be the most appropriate name

(You're a lizard...)

Yeah...I immediately thought I broke my Good First Date streak. Don't get me wrong. He was incredibly nice. Is incredibly nice. But I didn't get the impression that he could really hang out and keep up. The most hilarious part? That is his whole bit on his profile: he apparently has a zest for life like I do, is a positive person, and is looking for someone to keep up with him.

Okay, well...to be fair. It technically wasn't a first date. It was more of a meet-and-greet.

You heard me. A meet-and-greet. He recently moved into a home, and had a housewarming party. Well, guess who I met. Yup...a party.

At a dance club.

On a Saturday night.



(Honey, this club is for the cool kids who try too hard)

You can tell I was thrilled already. But I will leave it to nerves. I was kind of stuck with his friends while he got me a drink. They all avoided eye contact with me, so I just stood there swaying to some music while they bonded. Normally, I can adapt in these situations. But I felt like I was at a zoo, being monitored. It wasn't just his friends, but the entire club.

This is the place to be on a Saturday night. All the cool kids who happened to hear about my neighborhood make pilgrimage here till the wee hours of the morning. My crowd hangs in dark, smoky bars; I was face-to-shoulder with frat boys and girls who can't hold their liquor (literally and internally). Bright lights kept flashing, and the brick wall showed random "avante garde" film clips. Because really, who doesn't like to see 1950's mock PSAs about the danger of driving?

He finally showed up with my drink. There is nothing worse that being in a crowded club, music blasting, and not relating to anyone around you. He smiled and asked if I wanted to dance.

Why the hell not? I at least get a drink out of it...

He is adorkable. Yes, he is still very good-looking, slim build, and had a genuine gaze. They weren't the kind of hungry eyes that were peeling away the layers I wore; they wanted to peel away to see what kind of girl agrees to meet him and his friends at the most crowded club in town for something resembling a date. We did the awkward elbow dance to find room, had a girl spill my drink with her clumsy dancing, and awkwardly laughed the whole time. I think he felt bad. I know I did. But being the good Girl Scout, I made the best out of the situation.

Here's where it gets really funny. I have a friend (and fellow reader) who has a history of bad dates. And it's always entertaining to hear. She happens to frequent this club, and I saw her while I was doing the "make room" dance. She pulled me close and said she was on a bad date and was feeling really buzzed.

...please don't let this be an omen, I thought.

After I wished her luck (and introduced her to The Dragon), we parted with his friends, and somehow found a bar area in the back where we could actually talk without screaming at each other.

I was sweaty, and smelled like warm, sweet cider. I know it sounds like the beginnings of a bad Skinemax flick, but really it was simply gross. Both with a heavy, awkward sigh, we finally started to talk. He asked how I know about the Tail of the Dragon. I could have made an elaborate story about how I love riding on a motorcycle. But no. I told him I knew about it from my ex. As if it wasn't awkward enough, I start our first non-screaming conversation about my jerk ex. But...then again, he didn't know he was a jerk.

And then my ethnicity. Surprisingly this doesn't come up a lot in dates. I told him Filipino, and asked me to guess his. To be 100% honest I couldn't figure it out. He's half Puerto Rican and half Irish. Damn that's kinda hot. He also said he's a cop, which means he wears a uniform, which automatically means he's hot. Right? Girl logic is ridiculous sometimes.

We joked around for a bit, people-watching fools as we finished our lukewarm drinks. At best, he was adorable and fairly geeky. It wasn't that same explosion I felt with the last few dates. But the more we talked and laughed, I started to warm up to him. Finally, one of his friends came to the bar saying that they wanted to leave. The Dragon was their pilot apparently. I smiled awkwardly at his friend as he made his way up to round the group. The Dragon ask if I wanted to ride on his bike sometime. I gave him a very diplomatic answer: that sounds like fun.

...he meant the next day.

Oh? I should be elated, but I was more or less stunned. I wasn't 100% feeling him, but...free drink? Free bike ride? These are fun things that I like.

So I agreed. Elbowing our way through the front of the bar, we finally found the door, and all the fresh air hit us like a brick wall. I could finally breathe. If it wasn't enough that this place was somewhere I would never go in, the awkwardness of meeting a guy face-to-face after chatting online along with his friends was plenty to stifle me on a Saturday night.

After I thanked him for the drink, we hugged. We would figure out the next-day details later. As I started to walk towards my house, I heard a small group go WOOOOOO!!!!!!!

....later I found out that was meant for him after talking to me.

After walking my dog, I checked my phone. He sent a text asking if the walk home was safe. It really did make me smile. It was a very kind gesture. I get to the point living in the neighborhood that I do, that I'm street savvy. I don't feel invincible, but mostly aware of my surroundings, and how to be prepared (hello, keys intermingled in my fingers?). I told him I did and thanked him for making sure I made it home.

Then we chatted via text for another hour.

This guy was worth another chance. And I'm glad I took the time to meet him in a less crowded, and kinder environment than I did the night before.

I often say that I liken people to experiences from which I need to learn. He may be on his way to teach me a worthwhile lesson about myself.