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.

Kinetic Heartbeats

I'm taking a momentary break from the usual storytelling for a poem. My heart is drenched and drunk from last night. Poetic justice is the only fair way to assess my feelings right now.

With shaky hands I skip stones across a quiet lake,
Mist laying like a perfect sheet across the water
I cannot see their journey each time I throw
But each graze matches the beats from my heart

Walking away, heels creating a hollow echo on the pier,
I rub the leftover stones in my pocket,
I don't want to waste them
They're safe and warm there

The sun peeks through the trees,
A muted sangria sky pulling my head to face the path
There is comfort with each step I take towards you
And a gentle breeze guides my way

When I meet you the veil opens before my eyes
And only merely I peek to find clarity in your gaze
But the warmth that opens your face is inviting
Behind my gossamer eyes I embrace it

A head on your shoulder, my fingertips trace your spine
In an effort to find how you hold yourself up for me
And your head cranes to find the hollow of my neck
Gentle touches that bring us together

My hand in yours, you share this warmth
And it brings me to a special place
Where nature's pull binds us in comfort-
Where there is serenity, electric and true

The stones in my pocket wait for release
So I put one in your hand
Our steps in cadence meeting at the end of the pier
You throw it with care, and ease

And it matches my heartbeat in perfect time
Eyes closed I reach for my own
Hoping to mimic that rhythm
I cast it along the water

The sun glistens as it finds its own beat
But perfect on its own
And in your eyes I see it clearly and we both agree
The energy is perfect

Three to a Match

Okay so I was overdue for a bad first date.

The Teacher was a bust.

First of all, he sends me a text talking about our discussion earlier that day to meet at 8PM. Ok, that's understood. Less than five minutes pass where I don't respond and he texts me the elusive "K?"

Dude I'm busy! Clearly it couldn't wait...

So I drove 30 miles out of my way to meet him. He told me he'd be five minutes late. That five minutes quickly turned into 30 minutes. I told him what I was wearing and that I was outside the restaurant. Instead of walking up, he told me to meet him in the parking lot. You better believe I was thrilled to have an emergency text ready to be sent to my best friend.

(Imagine a brunette Bubbles from Trailer Park Boys)

JSG Dating Rule #1: If you're going to use a picture of yourself on your profile, please make sure it's you. It's courteous. However, this is my fault. He only had 10% of his profile complete, and I would later find out that he had only been on the site for a few days. Yes, he is a teacher and works at a gym. But he's also special. Yes, that kind of special. Don't get me wrong. I'm not one to down anyone with a mental disability, but the problem I had with this is that he completely lied. He lied about his picture AND was not upfront. I understand it's probably held him back from dating before but this was big for me. I was already trying to formulate an escape plan.

He had coke-bottle glasses, was short, and had a lisp. I had been duped.

So being the adventurer that I am, I decided to at least get one beer out of it. When the server arrived, I declined a menu and ordered the darkest beer; the kind that matched the hole in my soul for driving 30 minutes away from my turf for a bad date. I chugged it on an empty stomach. In all fairness, he was completely nice, and we had some good conversations. But...

JSG Dating Rule #2: Never mention a second date until you've made it through the first. After slugging back my beer, I ordered a water. I started to see a glimmer of hope when he was done with his beer, but he ended up ordering another. So I sat there and nursed my stale lemon water, trying to fight through the frustration. He mentioned that I would learn to love the water if I would join him and his family on their boat.

I almost choked on a lemon seed. He tried to convince me that the picture was him. Now he's trying to convince me that he could change my opinion.

After a few moments of forced conversation (and one awkward racist comment from him), I brought up the elephant in the room, and asked how long he had been on the site. That's when I learned that he had only been there for a few days. Then I did what I have never, ever wanted to do on a dating adventure: I became a hypocrite and lied. I told him I couldn't stay because I had to be up early the next day (I'm a night owl, obviously). And that I was only on the site to simply meet new people. I saw his pupils shrink behind his glasses, and his face drew long. He thought this was going well, and here I am crushing his spirit. I needed something stronger than murky lemon water at this point.

Before the check came out, I forced a smile, thanked him for a beer, shook his hand, and wished him good luck. Shuffling my tall boots, hoping it didn't look like I was running, I walked out of the door not looking back. This made...makes me feel awful. But I have always said my time was valuable. But here I was, a hypocrite like him. And I tried to justify it. Would any girl in my situation do the same thing?

Once I made it to my car, I called my best friend. Let me tell you about her a bit: blissfully married to my other best friend, both of whom I set up (I make better decisions for others than I do for myself). Bed time is almost always 9PM. She has no vices (she says she'll save those for me). However, she is my kindred spirit who will accept a phone call at 10PM if my life depended on it. This was one of those times:

"So it must have either been really awesome or absolutely horrible if you're calling me about the date. I know you said you had an emergency text ready, but wow"

I then spouted off at least ten run-on sentences explaining my situation. Her reaction ranged from fair sympathy to uproarious laughter. In hindsight, I'm glad I shared that laugh with her.

Through the long drive home, I considered the events of my day. Earlier plans for a movie with The Trainer fell through. At that moment with my windows down on the highway, I longed to be sitting in a cold theater rather than a loud bar with my horrible date. And Dragon was out of town for the day. He asked what I was doing later that night. Somehow it seems appropriate to add this:

I mentioned that I was out in a different part of town. Once again I became a hypocrite. We haven't labeled ourselves, so why is it his business to know who I was with? Maybe it's like Dating Darwinism: to survive in the dating world, we go through some tough spots in our evolution as mates. We maim others and garner new skills to survive. This is my way of protecting myself to ensure optimal survival.

 

After a few flirtatious texts, Dragon made his way to my side of town. I had every intention of staying home after the bad date. It was safer. I knew Dragon had homework, so I did the right thing after many hypocritical moments that night, and told him he should focus on getting his work done. Logic goes out the window after midnight, so he ended up staying over.

 

Yes, I let a man stay over. My dog wasn't happy about it. In fact she made a statement mess next to my bed as if to say "there can only be one. She's mine, not yours." Luckily he took that in stride.

 

We had multiple sheet pulling sessions that night. In between them we would laugh and tell stories to each other. In the early hours of the morning, we talked about everything that makes us happy. This is the first time I've felt that he let the seductive performer take a seat, and asked the softer, gentler side of me to dance. This is the connection I crave: for someone to appreciate the two of many sides that make up who I am.

 

Once again, I had to dodge mixed signals with Dragon. We laid there in between one of our trysts, caressing each other, and he said eyes widened and a playful smirk on his face:

"You know this is a big deal for me as someone who doesn't want to be tied down or committed"

If this isn't what we want, why are we here?  I'm not sure how much of that he meant, and honestly I simply ignored that statement. Everything he shows me seems to void those words. I'm not the one texting first. I'm not the one trying to make time for him. That's all him. It's not to say that I don't make an effort on my end, but he initiates it. Always.

Chemistry: An attraction that can't be quantified or explained.  We both don't deny that the chemistry isn't there. In one passage of Rachel Machacek's Science of Single, she talks to a woman named Dorothy who is in charge of dating seminars. She says that chemistry the bad boy, not someone that you need. Because really what girl doesn't enjoy a bad boy? The chemistry is damn-near intoxicating. And for now, I am find getting drunk from it.

So we held each other close. He fell asleep with his arms around me. Whenever I adjusted my position, he would too, never letting me stray too far from where he was. His hand would find my own, and hold it to would pull me near. I would turn and bury my face into the perfect nook of his shoulder, tracing my fingertips on his arms as he would gently caress my hair, kissing my cheek. If this isn't what we want, why are we here?

I am forcing myself to go with the flow. My friends try to break it down as simply as they can for me: if you're having fun, and he's game to play with you, then what's the problem? There should be no need to analyze this. If I'm happy and he's seemingly happy, then a problem doesn't exist. It sounds delusional to me, but maybe I can find a happy medium.

When morning broke the dawn, I met his widened gaze that greeted me good morning. I immediately reacted with a grin, nuzzled into his shoulder and said it back.

"I'm really glad a spent the night with you"

He said these words while he rested his chin against my chest. With a warm grin, I opened my arms and brought him as close as I could. I didn't want to say anything even though I shared the same sentiment. I only wanted him to feel my spirit aching to reach out to him. The heart and spirit that is a caged bird, ready to fly blindly into his sight.

There is a superstition dating back to WWI. It is considered a bad omen to light three cigarettes to a match. The enemy can spot the first spark. And then he'll trace it to a second spark. By the third, the location of the soldiers is clear, and they are open in an attack. I'm applying the same superstation to my dating life. It is nearly impossible to juggle three men, and now we're down to two. It's not a duel or a joust for my affection though. I'm not here to break any hearts. Whether it's with Dragon or The Trainer I would like something to work out.

But for now, I'm hiding the pack of matches. Safety first.

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...

A Slow Burn

Ok, there I go throwing out words I don't mean again..."love." The least I can say is that things with TD have been well. The more we spend time together, the more I can see myself with him. Maybe not necessarily long term, but definitely longer than him being Mr. Right Now.

I deactivated one of my online dating accounts since I had better luck on the site where I found TD's profile. Truth be told, I haven't been on either one as much. Searching for men online became exhausting. And while I do enjoy all the attention, I've already singled out a few who I wanted to talk to already.

All the while, I am learning more about The Dragon. He's honest and upfront. That's pleasantly refreshing, and sometimes scary. He used to live in my neighborhood and told me horror stories about his time living there (which is why he insisted I texted him when I walked home alone). The few times we've walked my dog together, he is often armed and right by my side. I joked with him that it was a bit much, but I really can't argue with a cop. He also told me he doesn't want kids and was upfront that kids were out of the question with his future love of his life. That one shocked me. While my biological clock isn't ticking loudly, I'm in no rush for marriage, let alone kids.

I asked my best friend what her thoughts were about this. She basically said that one day my clock will likely tick, and if I'm still with him, to ask myself would if it be a deal breaker. However, she did like that he was upfront about it but for her, personally, it would make her not want to pursue any sort of relationship with him further. As for me, I am not one of those girls who insists on changing his mind or opinion on this. I'm taking an open-minded approach, but I know that it stings a bit. However, he is open to adoption, just not passing on his bloodline. Apparently there's bad blood there, but hey, who am I to judge?

It's these things that make me examine myself more so than it is to study him. He's incredibly open. On this dating site where we met, the main page has a question that asks "What is the most private thing you are willing to reveal about yourself." More often than not, the answer is the same: ask me anything. I'm an open book.

Here's how men I've encountered approach that statement:
Ask me what I want to do in bed with you because I'm 100% DTF
Don't ask me questions because I'll totally talk about myself the entire time
Let me tell you my entire life story so much so that it scares you away and kills the chase

But when he talks, he speaks from a genuine place and leaves the floor open for me, as it should be. However, many times I wince and cower, mostly because I'm so taken aback by it. It's truly attractive, and I can definitely appreciate it. I'm making steps to be more open myself, though I feel like a dog backed into a corner.

Many moons ago, my ex was one who wanted me to say everything on my mind and in my heart. It was like trying to force feed a stubborn baby. I would get so frustrated, depressed, and weary because the second part of his request involved criticism, rolled eyes, angry interruption. Naturally, this made me gun shy in every sing relationship since.

So I picked up some dangerous fiery toys, jump out of a plane, and learn to shoot a gun as a way to release any sort of confrontation and talking about feelings that is required of me. Without these props, I'm left vulnerable and open. I hate that. Spending time with TD is like that scene in Big Fish. Edward senses that time stops when he sees Sandra, and peels away everything in the chaos so he can appreciate what he finds beautiful about her. TD doesn't realize that he's slowly helping me understand that it's okay to reveal who I am and what I have to say. Instead of creating a scene where I'm in charge of the direction, I can let him put down my props...and he can get a real response from me.

I've also found myself shying away from my usual song and dance. Though I adore my friends, I have spent more time by myself and with new people, dates and otherwise. And yes, I've already been called out on it. Lions hate when you dangle fresh meat in their faces without dropping it.  I recently had a conversation with one of them, explaining that there was a little guilt because I haven't made an effort to get the gang together, and that I haven't mentioned TD as much as other men I've dated, let alone invite him to join our group when we go out.

"Because you like him. And you want to spend time with him, one person with another, enjoying each other's company with minimal interference. And that's okay."

At first I thought it was because part of me felt embarrassed by his constant sinus issues, or the fact that my friends can participate in some unsavory activity and bringing a cop means bringing the wettest blanket in the stack. But my friend was right: I like enjoying this time with him. It doesn't have to be constant dinner dates, drinks at a bar, or crazy misadventures all the time. What makes me happy and content is this slow burn and desire to be with each other and to embrace this person we spend time with. TD said it himself: he was tired of going on dates with younger girls with no direction. Well...you know my requirements.

This past week, I've had an awkward screaming conversation with him at a bar, ice skated and made fun of him for driving his patrol car to the rink, watched my favorite show twice with him, and lay in his arms late a few nights. These are things that I haven't made much mention to friends. Instead, these are moments that I care to share only with him. Yes, I am writing down these words for all to see, but it's deeper than that. His openness, drive to spend time together despite his abnormal schedule, his ambition, his warmth have made me feel singled out in a crazy, convoluted world of dating.

This is one case where I can truly believe that it's okay for him to gently put my guard down, especially because I have such a difficult time doing it on my own. And I don't share that with just anyone. The fact that he has cracked the barrier speaks volumes. He doesn't realize that yet.

But I'd like to stay with him long enough so I can show him how much that means to me.

Fire & Ice

The day after the seemingly disastrous meeting with The Dragon, I was still pretty optimistic.

Because of unpredictable weather, we decided to forgo a Harley ride and opted to go ice skating instead (his idea). I jokingly said that he's not allowed to laugh if I bust my ass...and I will be nice when he busts his. He said he'd make no promises. Charming, I thought.

It was about to be disastrous again. Rain makes people suddenly forget how to function, especially when driving is involved. What would normally be a 15 minute drive became 45 minutes because of a major pileup on the highway. Maybe I could just turn around...


Alas, I ended up at the skating rink. To my surprise, TD had his own pair of skates. He apparently forgot to mention he's a former hockey player. Well...there goes me trying to look all cute and legit on an ice rink. As we were lacing up, we made small talk about family and friends, our jobs...the usual first date chatter. We also joked that this is what was supposed to happen the night before. This is much better, I said. I knew from the few words that we could hear and say at the club that he was worth getting to know.

I'm finding that he's a bit of a walking contradiction. There are some things that would normally make me wince, but others that make what I think is strange forgivable.

Let me tell you a tale about a cop who enjoys fruity drinks.
He played hockey, but has the worst luck with his health.
A cancer survivor who wanted to join the military but they can't accept him because somehow cancer is a liability.
That's how he ended up in law enforcement.
A bad case of appendicitis almost put him out of work entirely.
He knows how to fly a plane.
Because her family disowned her, he adopted his friend as his sister so she would know the love of family still existed.
While he sniffles from allergy issues, he owns a cat that looks like Hitler.
A Dexter fan who plans on going to law school, he takes vacations regularly and hopes to own many properties over his lifetime.
In the free time that he's not trying to win me over, he likes to tinker with elaborate security systems and create them.

Wait...what?

There were many moments in our conversation skating side by side on the ice that I wondered what the hell I was doing with my own life. The question of, "other than fire what do you do for fun" is always an awkward one. I always feel like I don't have time for other things, aside from the expected adult responsibilities.

It really was befuddlingly charming. After awhile on the ice he chuckled and said that it was highly amusing that he took the "badass fire girl" to the ice skating rink. It's true. I was out of my element. I felt somewhat forced to account for myself with some of his questions, like what else is there to my life. I didn't have implements to deploy and distract the dragon. Again, he kept trying to peel these layers to find out who I am at my core.

Then I thought of one of those two-hour conversations I had with Indy. He likes to read and understand people.

"Not everyone likes that. Some people like to have their secrets, and not be found out"

Well...damn. It's true. I keep thinking that I've made peace with my ghosts of dating past. There's still a brick wall in front of me when it comes to love, but I'm slowly finding the weaker spots to poke through, and remove that which protects me. It's not to say that I don't want to reveal every part of me to a lover, nor do I want to show the most perfect side of me all the time. It's just wondering how much of me should I reveal right now?

Let's face it: I showed the endearing, intelligent side to Indy and The Trainer, the wild child to The Adventurer, and with The Dragon...It's like unraveling ribbon in water. Slowly, hesitantly, but with the right force, willingly.

But stepping toe first on the ice seems like a good start. Later that day after a few errands, he asked if it would be okay if he watched a show we both like together. It happened to premiere that night. I was slightly taken aback (who invites themselves into my life?!), but I agreed. Before that, he suggested since I was on his side of town, to meet his cat and see his place.

Okay...he's a cop. He can't possibly try anything fresh. I mean, seriously, he drove his patrol car to the skating rink. It's not a front. But I think he was trying to reveal himself as this upstanding, adjusted adult who is worthy of my time. No secrets. Dude, I have stuffed animals everywhere, laundry in each room of my house, and my house smells like dog. I can't be this great girl he's been searching for.

He has a sweet cat, and his place is well-put together, security system and all. The lights were all motion-activated, so each room he gave me a tour of immediately lit up. You're damn right I called him out on how geeky it was...kindly, of course.

After the tour, he said he could just follow me to my place. He was walking towards his patrol car and jokingly told me not to speed. Telling me not to do something is the fastest way to ensure I do, I said. He gave me a smirk before getting in. On the drive to my place, I wondered if I would eventually get to see a wild side. Pilot, motorcyclist, cop? All the while he was mild, so I thought maybe it's okay for me to peel some of his layers too as much as he's tried to see all that's in me.

He really does have a strange schedule. I guess it's the life of a cop. After my immediate freak out at the Dexter season premiere, he asked if I wanted to have a late dinner. Why not, I said.

Same inner dialogue: I kept wanting to unravel his inner layers and much as he wanted to figure out what's beyond the "badass fire girl who walks home by herself."

We sat outside at a local restaurant, teeming with locals wanting to grab a beer on a late Sunday evening. There were talks about where we wanted to travel and about his goals. Whenever I talk to someone ambitious like that, I feel slightly inadequate. My goals don't extend beyond wanting to be the best version of myself so I can bring light into the world. He asked why I hadn't considered home ownership before and I told him I basically didn't want to get tied down. There is so much out there. Obviously that speaks for more than just home ownership. Obviously, commitment is risk, and if you know my track record, I'm really horrible at it.

The reasons I restarted this adventure is to discover what's out there; if there is someone wild enough to run with me. What's amazing is that I keep finding that there are men who can, and the ones who I think can run beside me in a blaze of glory actually get overshadowed or left behind. While The Dragon has revealed to be fairly mild, the dangerous side that I tend to relish in men takes a peek behind the curtain.

We've been on a couple of dates since, and I often the humbling question: am I forcing myself to like him? Think about it: look at your most recent significant other. There are bound to be things you cannot stand. I mean, where is the line between being nit-picky and accepting things as they are.

My burlesque mommy is screaming in my ear again: Don't settle

Regardless I like getting to know him. To study him, as Indy would say. I'm accepting that not every date or every guy I talk to is going to have that immediate rush within me where I just "know" this guy is it. TD and I warming up to each other. The Trainer and Indy took their sweet time. Things moved way too well and too fast with The Adventurer. But I can appreciate this pace with TD. Really...I think he is good for me. I tend to forget that part about dating.

After all was said and done, he walked me to my doorstep and gave me a gentle first kiss. Innocent even. Laying in bed thinking about all of the day's events I could sincerely say I was pleased. I never believed that true love or the like had to be immediate, though childhood fairytales would like to encourage us otherwise.

Some people say you can't rush destiny, and that these things should happen naturally. Others warn that hiding yourself from the possibilities is detrimental to one's self, and that it's in our nature to be curious and discover the possibilities.

But this is my adventure: a hardened heroine with the best of intentions seeks the prize of meaningful affection. During the course, hearts are slayed, and she suffers minor defeats. Once in a while, she finds a worthy suitor who she believes can help her find the prize.

That's a good fairytale. A great fairytale tells a story of how the suitor helps her win and fights the good fight with her...

And encourages to fight with what's in her. To defeat the monsters and fears within her.

Maybe The Dragon can be her guide.

Reality

In my utter moments of optimism with The Trainer, I have failed to mention one thing:

Much like OGM, he is a nomad. His job is contractual, forcing him to move around the country.

He has a meeting tomorrow discuss his time here.

While I am an eternal optimist, he has the sunny outlook of an Eeyore. Even when we talk I have to remind him of ways it could constantly be worse. I told him not to worry because why worry about what you don't know.

Sound advice I rarely take myself.

Being the usual sunny me, I forced the "I hope it goes well" line. Translation: I hope you stay. I was forward enough to ask "if you had your way, what would happen?"

I would change a few things, but I want to stay here. I've had one year contracts and have never wanted to stay with them.

...Promising. And vague. The smitten kitten in me hopes that I'm part of why he would like to stay in one place longer than a year.

I'm melting. I don't know if I should be happy or devastated. I never want to get in the way of upward mobility...but I am ready to settle.

I said it: I am ready to settle.

I'm not willing to give up the strongest parts of me. I'm not ready to put my feet up in stirrups and pop out ankle biters. That's not what I mean by settle. I mean...I'm ready to find the following:

- A hand willing to fit perfectly into my own
- A challenger who cheers me on in my hardest days
- A tender set of moments where I know that he's with me too
- The reassurance that we are in it together

There's a time in a single girl's life where she's done clicking dating profiles, chatting up/avoiding strangers in bars, waiting to see if her married friends have unmarried guy friends. I never said I wanted something immediate.

I think the word I'm looking for is stability. I have enough chaos in my life; other than my dog, who's going to take a moment to enjoy this chaos with me?

We still (supposedly) have a date on Friday. I can hear it in the voices of my friends. I know they don't want me to get hurt. They avoid this conversation with me because they know I've gone through enough trouble with guys and they're bracing for impact.

But...what is love (and the like) without the risk?

We spend so much time wasting away, worrying about where we'll be, who'll be there, and if it is all just and right. As for myself, I've spent too much time not worrying and giving all I have and getting little to nothing in return. It's such a fine line to walk.

Is it wrong to close my eyes, inhale a staggered breath, release the worry, and to just let my vulnerabilities go? There's no doubt; I have a lot to offer, which is why dating is so frustrating for me. The moment it seems that someone out there can be that hand, can challenge and cheer, will hold me and show me he is there, it all falls like sand through the fingertips. And sometimes I wonder if it's because, in many ways, I hold on too tight.

I bet this is how Freddie Mercury felt when he asked the desperate question: Can anybody find me somebody to love?


If you want me to be 100% truthful about it all, I want something special to happen between me and The Trainer. I cannot deny what my heart is feeling lately. This is the slowest I've ever taken anything in the dating world. The fact that I'm more excited about a first kiss is so new to me. By now, as in my past has shown, my toothbrush would be on his bathroom sink.

For now I am Amelie, once again melting into a puddle of longing and uncertainty. I could pray to things I believe and I don't believe, cross my fingers, eyes, and toes, but it won't change anything that happens tomorrow.

Where oh where to begin?!

Dating happens.

Falling in love happens.

Falling out of love happens.

Breaking up, unfortunately, happens.

FINDING OUT VIA TEXT SHOULD NOT HAPPEN!

I could write all day and preach about the importance of communication, and the importance of being a doting partner and a willful lover. But really, it would do no good. That and while he did fail me, I too failed myself. My friends told me I let too much go, and didn't stand up for what I wanted.

Human connection in any form is what I wanted. Someone to talk to everyday is also what I wanted. A boy to take care of me late at night (open to interpretation, by the way) is what I wanted most times. And guess what? That's what I got.

I didn't get what I needed. The hardest lesson (and the most humbling) is realizing that I was in this alone. He started to stray and I kept my blind optimism, as I usually do. He didn't take away from me; I took away from myself.

More than anything after The Great Text Dump of 2013 (we'll get to that soon, don't you worry), I sulked in my room, caked in tears, mad at myself for letting this happen to me. I should have seen the signs: less talking/texting, less staying over, less kisses, and more awkward hugs. Maybe he was just busy and stressed with school, I thought. Clearly I was wrong.

I felt like
Carrie in Sex and The City getting dumped with a Post-It Note. I don't recall, but maybe her message was much nicer than mine.

"Sorry if I treated you like a rebound"

Wait...what? Clearly, that was news to me.

I sat at the bar that cool Wednesday night, crying shamefully with two of my friends. He was right, I thought. I was only a rebound.

So I did what any girl does in these situations: I got my hair done, threw myself into projects, and posted insanely sad stuff online. Hell, I even adopted a dog. She saved me from continuing to feel so worthless.

However, there is magic in the struggle for clarity. Because of this, I finally understood that it was okay. And if it isn't okay, it would be. My support system reminded me of the usual things people say in this situation: it's his loss, you're beautiful, he's awful, you're amazing, etc.

More than that though, I had to learn to love myself again and be happy on my own. That's where the dog comes in. That's where throwing myself into running happened. I accomplish way more on my own. I am still learning what I need. But the fact of the matter is, his horrible text taught me that it is okay to be sad, angry, and heartbroken because the end result is that it forces me to deal with my dating failures as a stronger individual.

Suffice it to say, I don't feel worthless currently. In fact, I feel empowered. Not being with CSB helped me understand that it's time now for me to focus on what it is I need out of life, which isn't just love or something we try to make feel like love. It's enlightening to think of all the things I've done myself without someone by my side.

I know you're probably wondering what it is I discovered about what I need. Well...

I need a partner.

Someone who wants to take care of me as much as I can take care of him.

Independence.

Goals.

A good listener.

A cheerleader.

While these discoveries sound so obvious, I must say it was humbling to finally embrace them. I'm not getting old by any means, but I am at the point in my life where I am not settling for someone  less than deserving of changing my last name. All of those needs? I deserve them.

So I took a break, played with fire, cuddled a mutt, read some books, signed up for some races, and in the interim, decided to check out online dating again. After two weeks of courageously messaging potential suitors, and dodging guys with names like YourRealPrince and MrGoodbar, I talked to someone who seemed worth my time.

Bright blue eyes, a subtle smile, and an adorable dog caught my attention. His ambition, our conversations, and his curiosity about me is what held it.

Let's call him...The Trainer.

Fear of Falling

My best friend laughed at me one recent morning and said in so many words, you are so gung ho with everything in your life, but why are you so cautious and weird when it comes to dating?"

I guess I must have had donut-glazed eyes and have been gliding around in a hazy disposition when she saw me. My heart is still a'flutter with the possibilities of my adventure with CSB. I find myself giggling when I usually have a boisterous, sea-parting laugh. I'm watching romantic French movies on my small 25-inch screen TV (reading subtitles is difficult on such a small screen!). I have been listening to songs that send lightning through my veins because I want to duplicate the way I feel whenever I'm with him (romantic heroin? Ugh, that sounds awful...). 

Let's be real here: I haven't exactly taken the straightest path to dating enlightenment. And I do think about it often. What DOES make me so scared of plunging all-in for love? Anything new is scary, and that's exactly what this experience is. We haven't had "that talk" of what we are, but I have made it clear that I'm not some girl he can just hook up with and leave me on the side, which he responded well to on more than one occasion. Breakfast after sex is usually a good indicator of being in some semblance of a relationship, right? I like where this is going, so why force it?


This is why falling in love is so scary for me. Of course I understand there is always a risk in love. Yes, that little, one syllable four-letter word:  

Love.

I've accepted that I have fallen in love with a man I barely know. How can my heart know that this is something good, but my brain is saying, slow your roll, homegirl? You're being foolish! Yet we can make love all night and go out to breakfast in the morning and continue to enjoy learning about each other. Do you understand how awesome that is? And because that's awesome, I'm afraid something as silly as my insecurity about this situation will ruin it. Does that make sense? Because I have to ask myself too if I'm in love with an idea I'm afraid of losing...

And he has this creepy Tom Cruise "I'm in love with Katie Holmes" crazy laugh. He smokes. But you know what? I don't care. I like him in spite of those things! We were at a club on a recent weekend and he was making me laugh with his adventurous spirit. It was crowded and when people would bump into him, he'd yell something absurd like WE'RE SWINGERS! I guess most girls would balk and run away, but I laughed! It was just so ridiculous. And we were outside talking to our friends and he was going to get a drink at the bar. I told him I'd stay out. He looked at me with his beautiful blue eyes and said, "come with me. It will be an adventure."

On another recent occasion, I received a text message from him. Here's how the conversation went:

Him: So your friend asked me about you tonight.
Me: Ok. Who?
Him: So and So's girlfriend
Me: Oh ok! Well, what did you say?
Him: That we're getting married next week. Best to thrive on awkwardness
Me: Be still my beating heart. Since this is short notice, I'll pick catering...the hot dog cart. Our friend can officiate as well!
Him: Haha! :)

Okay, I really, really may have met my match.  And I don't want this to end. He is this intriguing individual. And when I think back on how this all started it's such a wonderful story that I don't want to end. From watching afar, doe-eyed and scared to make my presence known, to asking a magician to pull the right card from his stack. From late night text messages to midnight rendezvous into a whole new world. From late mornings under a down comforter to waking up with him and the adorable dog who chewed my shoes.

I know often times in my posts I say that I'm ready for something serious, something real, not something to pass the time. But I have to laugh at my naiveity. Because it wouldn't be the first time a story started out as a simple series of amusing events, something "not serious." Over time, these events can continue to play out as a series of misadventures which become incredibly mundane, or they can develop into greater adventures that collect and resonate with time, creating new and wonderful beginnings. So far, I can say that we've both kept up with each other. There's that fun little thing called The Chase, and it's been fun playing hide and go seek with a worthy opponent.

When I was younger, I always lived by the words, "labels are for cans," and as I've gotten older, I applied this phrase to relationships. As a result, I've gotten burnt. The boys would either take advantage of my carefree nature and completely forget I exist, or they would see it as an opportunity to let me know they're only here for a good time. I also suppose that is another reason for my fears. But the funny thing is that I was super cautious with OGM and my ex before him. I didn't dare think, let alone utter the word "love" when each one invaded my life. Then this man enters my world, full speed, without a warning label, and I'm in love. You can't help who you fall for or how hard you fall, I've learned.

What a good friend did tell me is that I can control the way I handle it. I kind of laughed, but it's worth trying. Being cautious has saved me from being totally hurt, but it has kept me from something I so believe I deserve. So long as he continues to show up unexpectedly to see me at work, text me nonsense at midnight, and hold my hand on our way to a bar excursion, I won't complain. I will relish falling in love. If I can free fall 10,000 feet from a rickety plane with a stranger on my back, I can fall headfirst and heart first into this crazy little adventure called love.

I'm Only Going to Say this Once

Mindy Kaling totally has it right. Older men are where it's at.

Seriously. They know how to take care of a woman in every way that a woman knows how to be taken care of.

This is where I'm going to let your imagination take charge.

Still, I must say that CSB isn't without his flaws. But then again, who isn't? He goes out often (days that end in Y) and he smokes. But once again, I only have a handful of need that need to be met: treat me well, make me laugh, have your act together. So far, he is meeting all three of my needs. So why fight it?

I would be lying if I said I didn't struggle with myself a bit. Was this too fast too soon? I had to (and continue to) remind myself that I typically don't do the straight and narrow very well. Of course it shouldn't be an excuse for absolute excess and debauchery. I am sincerely having to force myself to enjoy this and go with the flow. I try not to focus on the what ifs: what if he's stringing me along? What if this is just something to pass the time for him?

But all signs are pointing the other way. My past experiences with The Chase have often led me to the same conclusion: there are always risks involved, and with each adventure, every dating experience becomes a little bit better. Like everyone else trying to enjoy some time with potential someone special, I worry that it may not work out. Because it's going so damn well. And if I haven't made it clear enough, I really want this to work out. It would be foolish if I didn't at least admit that I'm not sure if I'm going about it the right way. A lot of my actions with CSB are quite unorthodox. I believe if I took the more conservative approach, we wouldn't be at this point. Either method I would take, I know that I want to keep CSB in my life.

But more than that, I want to believe that he wants me in his life as well.

But I'm observing behaviors from CSB that I can't help but relish. Last night he was telling me he offered to fix the coffee shop owner's bike. Why? Because CSB wants him to experience the thrill of a simple ride again. Wow. I thought that was extremely admirable. That nugget made him much sexier than I could have anticipated. He even texted me a picture of the owner on his bike, content with the selfless gesture from CSB. On top of this,he is also incredibly intent and focused on school, no matter the surroundings.


But when he moves his focus on me? It's quite difficult to put into words. In keeping with the theme of our adventure, the best way I can describe it is magic. He moves me in ways that I didn't imagine possible. And I've only known this man for a week! ONE WEEK! Last night, we spent the good part of two hours in his house YouTubing music we love. And he gazed at me across his bed as I sang Regina Spektor and introduced him to She & Him. I'm so impressed with you, he whispered to me. He warmed my stomach with his hands all night. He played with my hair. He nibbled on my legs. If this talk isn't making you want to make babies, I don't know what will.

Slowly we began to intertwine. He whispered directions in my ear. Said my name. Pulled my hips and leaned in with each kiss. He even asked me if I was okay and if there was anything else he could do to make me feel better. I assure you I was feeling quite fantastic. We were up all night, doing this dance. After a warm embrace, he moved my body and tucked me in. Where did I find this man?

I have to wonder: if I notice all these amazing things about him, what can I offer? Do I have what it takes to give him what he wants or needs? Because I know I have a lot to give. Does he want what I have, more than just a strong physical connection? I hear the echos of my friends ringing in my ear: Just enjoy it. I definitely am! But it's difficult and foolish to admit that I want something more from this. Of course I would. Everyone loves getting extra dessert! I look forward to more midnight adventures with CSB. I must admit: I love that this chase is working both ways.

I Awkwardly Date Just Like Everyone Else

I admit it.

I'm excited about my date on Thursday finally. I still have some jitters. I feel the need to, like any proud blogger, do some research on how to date.

I'm extremely nervous. We are going to a Japanese restaurant. Apparently he admires the culture. I am introducing him to the goodness of boba/bubble tea. And then I wonder, as I did before, about how to do my hair. Or if I should wear glasses or contacts. Or if I should dress up or dress down.

And the awkward dater in me asks the more hard-hitting questions: do I bring my own chopsticks? Will that impress him? Do I cut my swearing 25%? Is that enough? 

Yes, yes, I know BE YOURSELF, you say. But this date is different because I'm being forced completely outside of my comfort bubble. I usually enjoy this. But, as stated before, I did my research on online dating. It's basically safety first. My best friend knows where I will be. We have a code red abort signal. I am meeting him there. And I'm certain he's not a Nigerian money scam, so there will be no wiring of money in the future.

*sigh*

I will keep you updated. I want to be someone's second date. Not gonna lie.

"Describe Your Dating Fears in 1,200 Words or Less"

Online dating sites would hit a gold mine if they encouraged you to lay out your fears about online dating and dating in general. 

I got to hand it to men who attempt it. You're not like women in the sense that you don't know how to talk about yourselves, usually because women are constantly cutting you off. Or that you just never have to unless it's for an interview. I'm sure they wonder what's worse: trying to create the damn profile or having the guts to make that first move.

I recently went on a road trip with my best friend to celebrate the victory of conquering a chaotic work week. I adore my her quite simply for the fact that I don't know if anyone else could put up with my dramatic nature. Seriously, give that girl a medal for being so patient. She drove a whole two hours and listened to me gripe and overanalyze everything about online dating.

And I do mean everything. I want to punch myself for saying the following things:

"Well, do you ever see me standing next to a guy in a polo?"
"Why would a man think he's datable with usernames that include pimp, 69, or bro in it?"
"What am I? A mail order Asian bride? Why do the 45-year-old men in douche gear want me?"
"I don't see myself settling down. But I really want to. A dream is a wish your heart makes."

I assure you that none of these questions or statements were alcohol induced. The fact that I wasn't inebriated when I said those things saddens. It's difficult to admit the things in love you know you want, and the things you aren't sure of quite yet. Nobody likes being lonely. I conquered my fear of fire, but not that of loneliness. And I worry about rushing into the arms of another man. It's still worth noting that I kept my guard up pretty high with OGM. And as far as OGM is concerned, my gut was telling me that while I can't have him for long, it is possible for me to be with a good man.

So as I'm slouched in the seat of my best friend's car, salvaging the remnants of the first Slurpee of the day, I chattered on about how I feel about my date with Academy Boy. It was essentially a series of "what ifs." The worst part is that I know that is is just a date. My best friend kept rolling her eyes and telling me that I should just have fun. You don't have to tell me twice! Still, at 26-years-old when most of my peers are planning both wedding and baby showers, it's difficult not to want to date because you want to find your partner, not just to try on men like their pairs of jeans.

I never thought I would need to have a particular conversation with my best friend this soon in my life, let alone in a car with bright red sugar stains on my teeth. The topic came up of what would happen if things went particularly well and I ended up a Navy wife.

But then this whole concept of "settling" came up again. Would I be okay to pack up and move? Can I just up and leave everything I know behind and often? What about having children and exposing them to this kind of life? All of these questions were followed up with my inner child screaming obscenities. I can't possibly grow up. I won't fit in with Navy wives because I don't scrapbook ( I assume they scrapbook and only make babies. Someone prove me wrong). However, I thought that this would be a challenge...and I adore those. I would find a thrill in being forced out of my comfort zone, trying to meet new friends and learn about a new town. But I'd be forced to be lonely again...right?

One of the last conversations I had with OGM was about moving I told him that I honestly and truly believed that the only way I'll move is when and if I get married. Having that conversation with OGM made me feel like I didn't have enough ambition in my life, whereas he is willing to be a cowboy and travel where all the cattle thrives. Ever since I moved out of my ex's home (and awful home situation) a few years ago, my main focus has been about me having fun and taking in all that life has to offer.

Is this Dating Darwinism? Am I destined to not find the right man because I'm not aggressive enough in the concrete jungle? Do my strange hobbies indicate a lack of focus so strong that my ability to even think about being barefoot and pregnant just isn't possible? Can men sense that and run away to the next girly and fertile being they see? It's obvious that one of my dating woes is that men see me and don't think "long term love of my life."

Yes, that is what I want. I want what every girl wants: a man to look at me in the face, tongue ring, awkward jokes, crazy hobbies, snide comments, and all and still see a girl he can take home to mom and give flowers to just because. It really does hurt that I don't get that impression from men. I am more than just punch lines and quick-wit sarcasm. I can bake and I also enjoy wearing pearls and cardigans in addition to studs and leather jackets.

And here I have a date with someone who thinks I'm interesting and important enough to email back. A man who studied engineering at a prestigious military school, who's working hard to be a pilot. I am but a picture in a catalog, filled with countless other women who find it difficult to meet men organically. Underneath the surface of the girl cheerily tying on a pair of ice skates, is a girl scared to put her guard down because she fears no one will want to be the ice to her fire. Someone who fears she won't be good enough for him or someone like him.

But I will meet with Academy Boy, chopsticks in hand, ready to plot zombie defenses. I will introduce him to boba smoothies and perhaps he can entertain me with academy tales. All the while, in the back of my head will be the fears: rejection, not being good enough to mention to mom, being too odd even though I will be myself. A girl like me typically doesn't end up with men like him.

And then a glimmer of hope. I read this on his online dating profile and it made me feel better. It made me feel as if maybe I shouldn't be too quick to judge or over analyze. Trust me, I do both quite well.

"Don't worry if you're interested a little and the complete opposite of what I ranted about above because no one knows who they might end up with in the end anyway, right?" 

Wow. If he's right about that, let's see if he's right about me. 

Would you guess that I didn't know what to wear?

So I have another first date.

This Thursday. I am more nervous about this one. I knew OGM and we had history from before. So that made the getting to know you part easy to avoid. This guy? This guy I am meeting as a result of online dating.

A little bit about him:
- Went to the Naval Academy
- Studying to become a pilot
- From Arkansas
- 6'3"

So what does this mean? The pessimist in me is thinking he's cocky like Maverick from Top Gun, going to be a little too Southern for my Yankee-like brashness, and will look like King Kong when he stands next to my petite frame. The optimist in me says he's tall, ambitious, and could have a sweet Southern disposition.

This is me over analyzing again. I over analyzed so much I did some Facebook recon. I will say...it's a bit worrisome that his profile isn't private (no, I will not post his link). His pictures don't reveal that he's too much of a party animal. He has pretty friends though. Male and female. I guess the way I can look at this is that he is an open book, and not just saying that like all the other online dating profiles I've found.

He suggested we meet Thursday "so he could have something to look forward to at the end of the week." Is he too charming? Or charming enough? After all, he wants to discuss zombie literature over milkshakes. MILKSHAKES! Who suggests that as a first date? Only someone like me, who would appreciate such a thing. Lest we forget I'm not most girls.

I have to remind myself that it's only just a date. Nothing more, nothing less...yet. But yes, I too look forward to meeting someone new at the end of the week. I'll let you know what happens, for sure! In the meantime, here is Blink 182's "First Date."

And I will call him E because milkshake boy and sailor don't sound that attractive. Gonna be honest, until I meet him face-to-face, I don't think I will be attracted to him. But that's another blog post. 

 

That one Moment

When you are holding each other
Feeling each others' warmth
Sharing soft kisses
Not wanting to let go
Tracing each others' shadows in the darkness with your eyes
Silent other than the sound of content sighs
Along with the sound of hearts breaking and growing
Fingers intertwined
Hair falling over your face
His hand pushing it aside
His chest on your back
Lips on your shoulder
Sheets like a loose cocoon
The rising of two bodies
The falling of two hearts
Three words you want to say
But know you simply can't
And the three words you say
But simply don't want to

But it's not any easier than getting up and walking away.
In fact it's just as difficult.

The Lift before the Fall

Sorry for the lack of posting. I was busy having a life and dating I suppose.

And with that, the title says it all: the lift before the fall. I am in a world of hurt.

OGM is moving in September.

Very few words can describe this news. The most notable of the few is "heartbreak." I find One Good Man, and this isn't fair. Once again, our timing is absolutely horrible. We have decided, at this point, not to continue after he leaves. Of course that is easier said than done. Rest assured, we both have feelings invested at this point. And with this dizzying teacup ride, we will see what happens.

He told me earlier this week and I think I handled it well. I had to remind him this wasn't up to me. I wanted to continue seeing him. I suppose the call it summer love for a reason, right? Last night, he completely broke down to me about the hardships he's had the past year and he said the kindest words I've heard for the longest time.

You're amazing.

That's what makes this transition even harder for me. He is such a good man to me. Warning me that he's leaving. Feeling bad that this conversation even had to happen. This is the worst kind of heartbreak because what we have has a deadline. So add "not fair" to the way I'm feeling right now.

My best friend was saying that maybe this is God's way of saying that I can have a special kind of relationship like this...but maybe this isn't right quite yet. Again, it doesn't make it hurt any less. My throat is closing in, my chest quivering, and my body in general is sulking at this news.

And last night, he laid on my chest as we comforted each other. I have to remember that I am not on this blinding rollercoaster by myself. He said more words to me that didn't make this terrible news easier to hear.

Your heart is beating really fast. It's called I'm falling hard for you and the bottom is going to be ripped from under me. Well...that's what I wanted to say. Instead, I played coy and told him that it's beating fast for number of reasons. As we stared at each other, knowing the difficult months that lay ahead, he pulled me closer. His hazel eyes pierced my heart once again.

I know this isn't the usual uplifting and humorous post of which you all are accustomed. But what's dating without a little letdown, right? In a perfect situation, he would realize I'm the reason to stay and we can carry on talking about each other's heartbeats and telling jokes. Alas no situation is perfect. And all I am left with is this feeling of being lonely with him. Most would just say "stop seeing him and move on."

But it's difficult to move on when you both finally recognize something great. And that is the risk of falling in love. There are no easy decisions. There are only sacrifices, big and small, and figuring out how to embrace the risks and savor the moments you have together. I don't know what will happen now. Oh time...how you continue to punish me.

The hardest part is knowing you have something great, and being forced to let it go.

Have Mercy!

Isn't this typically the emotion one feels when they're in the grasp of being extremely twitterpated? I mean...look at this. Any child of the 90's remembers the fabulously coiffed Uncle Jesse from Full House. Have mercy, he would beg. And can you blame him? Becky was a hot beast by 90's standards. I have discovered the stage in dating where one is teetering on the line between really falling for someone through the hot and heavy, and saying the Lord's Prayer: Lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil. Well, not all evil. I can't be good all the time...

I can't emphasize it enough: there is no pressure to give in on either end with me and One Good Man. However I truly believe that resistance is futile. This is where we fail at dating: we fail to realize a good thing and to go for it. The main problem is that the word "good" is relative. Sure, what if the making out is good...but does that mean he's a keeper? At best, he is a keeper for now if that's all he has going for him. Women aren't used to be treated with respect. I'm going to give you a piece of advice. Ladies: date someone who has a younger sister. You can tell a lot about a man by how he treats his mother. However, see how he talks about and treats his younger sister. It'll give you a glimpse into what to expect.

Anyway, sometimes mercy needs to come naturally. Dating is quite unatural to begin with, so we have to take little steps to make it easier on ourselves.

Let me tell you a story: I tend to be fairly brash. Not confrontational. Trust me there is a difference. I ended up calling out this guy who would turn out to be my boyfriend. He kept beating around the bush and simply wouldn't admit that he liked me. So after encouraging him to drink his courage elixir at the bar, I demanded that he tell me what was on his mind. "You have something to tell me," I said. With major hesitation he confessed he had feelings for me. Don't worry, I returned the favor and told him I liked him too. I'm not that mean! He didn't like being forced into this confession. Here's how the rest of the conversation went:

Me: I'm helping! It's not good to hold in your feelings! I'm your angel of mercy!
Him: THEN PUT ME DOWN!

I guess I could've been so kind as to let him down gently. The moral of this story is that you have to be willing to give into your feelings, and you can't force someone to give into theirs. Trust me, I obviously tried and I think that set the tone for the rest of our relationship. You simply can't force anything that isn't there and isn't going to work. I also think I scared him...I will try not to do that anymore. No promises.

So where do I stand now? Well, temptation is fun to give into but only if both parties are on the same page. It's so much more fun that way! This is where I get that feeling of no pressure. If he's right there and I'm right there, it's only fireworks from here...at least for the moment. In dating, all you can really do is seize the moment anyway.

And this is more than a sexual assumption. It keeps going back to trusting your gut. During this process I've learned to listen to it, converse with it, reach a mutual understanding with it. Although me and my instincts are getting along, it's still a very complicated relationship. I'm definitely out of my comfort zone and yet there is a small amount of comfort knowing that I don't feel forced, nor am I forcing anything else. Women, we have intuition for a reason. It's not only for protection. We also have to use it to nurture. Men seem to dig that kind of thing.

In the meantime, this song sums it up perfectly.
I'm begging

First There was The Chase. Now What's The Catch?

When it comes to relationships and dating, I vary between two extremes, and nary the two shall meet. I either overthink and question everything, or I live in blissful ignorance. I am trying my damndest to stop this nonsense. I am seriously hoping I can find a man who can help me balance my extremes but keep me challenged.

How am I today, you ask. Right now it seems I'm overthinking everything! I just want to enjoy sweet, simple joys with this One Good Man, and yet I worry that these simple joys will turn into complicated warfare. Think I'm being dramatic? I probably am. I think it makes me more interesting.

Just to clarify, I jumped in head first into my last couple relationships and I am very aware that I overthink or underthink. By going out a few times with this One Good Man, I am moving in the right direction towards being with someone for all the right reasons. But then I wonder am I still moving too fast? Is this too slow? Will he lose interest?

Last time we discussed how crucial I think The Chase is in a relationship. Today, we are discussing The Catch. Right now things seem to be going well...a little too well. And I fear shutting down. So here I am sharing this vulnerability with you, my dear friends.

It's frustrating to really like someone and still have a guarded heart. I'm trying to find the balance between letting someone into my life slowly and accepting that this is a risk. Do I think he's worth it? If he keeps treating me like someone of importance in his life, yes. He is.

Ok fine, I know this is only date #3 we are going on tonight. But obviously I really like this guy enough that I'm worried about this screwing up. And then I remember what my dear friend said to me that night: "Is your gut telling you that it's ok? Then it's ok. Your gut never lies."

Not to dwell too much on my dating past, I will explain my guarded heart to you a bit more in detail. This is where I've gotten blissfully ignorant. When things seemed tough or not worth it anymore, I thought if I stick around long enough, I can definitely make it so! Boy was I wrong. All three times. What can I say, I have been a glutton for punishment! Again, I'm trying to take the right steps to redeem myself.

I worry about things like, well, what if he's playing this game to see how long I'll stick around before he can get me to sleep with him. Or maybe I'm a pity case. These are all foolish insecurities because let's face the cold hard facts here folks: Everyone has either experienced this or at the very least knows someone who has.

So how do you adjust to these insecurities? How soon is it to have that "so what exactly are we doing" talk? I can't help thinking that one year ago something was there. And now here it is again. So it must be worth it. And just maybe I'm worth it too. I've said it before and I'll say it again...

There is always risk in adventure. The least I can ask for is someone to hold my hand as we jump feet first into the deep water.

I hope it's him.

How sad. I think this should be every woman's type.