A Symphony of Epiphanies

I needed this weekend to know that I really was ready to move on.

Amazing, after two years of endless heartbreak/recklessly wanting someone who "isn't sure" if I'm the right girl for him, I've realized that I don't think he's the right guy for me either, as much as I've tried to believe he was. It's time to let go.

It takes a lot of work sometimes to take your own advice. My mantra is always to live each day in the moment. Don't waste your time. Live each day in the moment! You never know how long you (or anyone else) has on this earth, so don't wait around for anything. This was always the reasoning I gave the Ex. "If you think you want to be with me again someday, why not now!? Life is too short to wait for another time!"

Rihanna says it best when she said that to me he's like a drug, and we both use each other, but in different ways. Some sad kind of gratification came from getting attention from him, no matter what the outcome. I spent the past two years believing that there was something I was lacking if he felt the need to look elsewhere. Maybe if I lose weight before I see him again? Maybe if I get a better job? Maybe if my relationship with my family was different? Maybe if I play harder to get, and then he'll be under the false pretense that I won't always be here waiting for him?

As much as he's known how it's affected me, he's always kept me at arms length, but close enough to be comfortable in the fact that if he can't find someone better, he can always go back to me. Any time it's seemed as though I'm moving on and getting over us, a quick yank on my leash has brought me right back. And no matter how much I've told myself, time and time again, that I was strong and resilient and independent, and wasn't going to let him affect me, he always has.

Recent discovery that I have the ability to have feelings for another person* made me wonder what it is that I've been waiting for. Why him? What is it about him that's made me want to wait the rest of my life for him? I love and care about him, but it finally clicked with me that I'm not his ideal mate. And the truth is, he's not my ideal mate either. This isn't my love story. We had some great times, and now they are some great memories. But those memories don't translate to a future the way I've always pushed for.

Clear as day, here it is: If after almost 4 years of being involved with each other (committed or otherwise), if he's not in love with me, he's not going to be.

Simple as that.


Not to say I didn't have a good weekend with him. We enjoy each other's company and are reallyrelaxed around each other, and we did a lot of fun things and ate a lot of great food. I'm glad he came because I had fun, and was able to gain some real-life perspective on the chapter in my life that is closing.

I knew going into it that there was a good chance my feelings would come flooding back, as they always do, as soon as I saw him, which they didn't. I also knew that if I spent all weekend thinking about someone different, it was a definite way to know that my heart isn't in it anymore.... which I did.

Excuse my French.... Fan-fucking-tastic! I have an overwhelming sense of relief and pride in myself.

I spent so much time waiting for the day that he would declare that he had "made a mistake" and mean it for real; so long hoping that one day he would realize I was really the person he was happiest with and that he didn't need to look anymore. And now I know that even if those feelings are genuine this time, it just comes down to too little, too late, and my heart isn't invested in it in the same way. He was super sweet this weekend, and I appreciate the nice dinners and fun things we did so much, but continuing on the way we have been isn't doing either one of us any favors, and nothing good is going to come out of it; now, or in the foreseeable future.

After driving him to the airport, I texted Erwin (aka the Mickey Mouse Man) to say I was on my way back and he asked me to have dinner with him. We had been texting each other during the weekend, and he's been telling me how much all of his friends want to meet me after what he told them, and how he couldn't wait to see me again.

As soon as I got back into town, he picked me up and we got some dinner (which ended up being a good two hour long meal because we had such a good conversation... and so nice to know that we like all the same things about each other, we have a LOT in common), rented a movie, and snuggled on my bed. Sigh.

*Before you get your panties in a twist: Erwin is not the REASON I was able to get over the Ex. Even if he and I never saw each other again, I would still be over the Ex. It's the fact that I am able to be totally into someone else that made me realize the Ex is not the only fish in the sea that I'll ever want to swim with.

My brief vacay: A vague overview

Since starting my job in October, I've been asking for 3-4 days off to celebrate Christmas with my family up north (about 8 hours from where I live). I was finally given a few days off: February 24th, 25th, and 26th. Knowing I only had three nights and two and a half days, I had to make the most of it.

After working all day on Saturday, I jumped in my car and drove straight from my job to the hometown of the Ex, where I stayed for the evening. We hadn't seen each other in 6 months, and the last visit was a little strange because it was a short meeting in the lobby of the hotel he was staying in. I think we were both concerned that this visit could be as awkward as the last, but we had high hopes. In an effort to maintain the privacy and sweetness of the situation, I will just say this: it was really nice, really sweet, really innocent, and went at least as well as I had hoped for. And also reminded me of why I miss him, and reinforced the fact that I do. Very much. The only disappointing part was the fact that I'd lost 9 lbs since I saw him last, which I don't think he noticed. (Come to think of it, no one in my family did either. Fabulous.)

Sunday, after lunch and a little shopping, we said goodbye and I drove up to my own hometown where I met up with my mom and went to an Oscar party. After a few Bloody Marys with her former work friends (who haven't seen me since I was 15) I started telling them some of my most recent dating stories (including, of course, the toolshed plastic surgeon and the persian fashion mogul, among others). Within 15 minutes, I had 15-20 generously middle-aged women crowded around me, enthralled and asking question upon question, which eventually turned into a live advice column for all their own dating dilemmas. Love the ladies... but I have to say I never thought I'd be giving 55 year old women dating advice. C'est la vie!

The drive home got ugly when the conversation between my mom and I turned to her relationship with the World's Biggest Scumbag, ie her boyfriend of the past 12 years. The same Scumbag she's been vowing to break up with and kick out of her house for the past 10. Also, the same Scumbag that was the eventual cause of my moving out at the age of 16. Not my favorite subject, as I'm sure you can understand, but I'm sure I'll divulge you more in the future. But for the purpose of this story, let's just say she left my (former) stepdad (one of the most intelligent, kind-hearted, successful, worldly, sweet people ever) for the World's Biggest Scumbag, which I will never understand. Not even under the influence of hallucinogenic drugs! Long story short, my stepdad and I keep in touch because he's awesome.

Monday I woke up to an email from my stepdad, and we got together for the best sushi I think I have ever had. We talked about all different kinds of things, and he asked me some different things about how things are with the Ex, who I can tell he liked a lot. He reaffirmed my thoughts on the subject. (I wish I could say more about this, but better to say too little than too much.)

I spent the rest of the evening with my mom (and more messy conversations). I woke up this morning (Tuesday), and showered and got ready so I could leave by 11. On the way back down south, I stopped at the Ex's office and we had lunch across the street, which was still comfortable and nice and definitely a great note to end my visit on.

We texted pretty much the whole time I was driving back, and I may be wrong but I do believe we are at least somewhat in the same mindset.

I guess we'll see.

Stopped shortly at Starbucks when I got back into town to say hello to the Foxista. He was in the middle of a staff meeting and couldn't talk, but called me later and we had an unusually awkward conversation. He texted me after to tell me how there is no way he could explain how much he missed me, how he thinks about me frequently, and seeing my sweet face was "spectacular." Weird. Maybe we'll go on a second date after all.

.... MAYBE.

A Brief Vacay

The Girl in the Mirror is out of town for a few days.....

I'll try to update you on what's been going on, but just advanced warning; it's going to be a hectic three days.

Au revoir!

The Foxista: A Rundown

So we hung out last night.

Firstly, I picked him up from his house, which is only a few minutes from me which is nice, but because he doesn't have a car, which is not nice.

When I got him I asked him what he wanted to do, and he said, "Honestly I'm so stoked to be hanging out with you, I don't care what we do." (Awwww..... so nice.) I gave him the choice of either A. going to the fun brewery down the street or B. going to my house and drinking bloody marys, and he opted for the second, due to a lack of funds in his account. (Not so nice.)

We got to my house and I made us some drinks and we dove into getting to know each other. He's 26, from Upstate NY, has two older sisters, and is passionate about skateboarding and music. His goal is to submit some video footage of his skating to skate companies and get a sponsorship. To be perfectly honest with you guys, I have no problem with skateboarding, and I actually think skaters are sexy (a feeling that dates back to 7th grade and my complete and utter enfatuation with pretty much any boy at my middle school who wore baggy pants and airwalks and flipped ollies in the front parking lot during lunch), but unfortunately those kinds of goals/dreams aren't a turn on anymore when they're coming from a grown man, who, in his words, wants to settle down in the next few years. How?

I'm sorry if I sound like a total picky, wishy-washing snotty bitch, and maybe I am (I hope not), but other than the whole lacking ambition/a car/a well-paying career, he's really an amazing guy. Like I'm sure I've made clear already, he's super attractive, and he's extremely sweet, open, and affectionate. We spent the whole night talking, and he kept telling me how I was so gorgeous and he just couldn't believe I would choose him to do something like that for. After a few Bloody Marys I admitted that the primary reason I go to that Starbucks is because he works there, which he was completely surprised by, as he has spent every shift since the first night I came in hoping I'll be coming in for a coffee.

At some point in the night, we were in the kitchen talking while I was making another drink for him and was in the middle of a sentence, stopped talking, put his hands behind my head, and kissed me for what seemed like 10 minutes (but was realistically probably 10 seconds). As it turns out, he is a fantastic kisser, which he said about me as well.

From then on, we split our time between getting to know each other, and a passionate makeout sesh. Eventually we decided he was going to stay over (since I was about 4 drinks deep) and I made it clear that staying over meant sleeping, and not.... staying over (wink wink). I told him I move slowly with physical stuff, and I told him it would be no different than exactly what was going on already, except in a different room. He told me a few times that he understood, and we went upstairs.

I was very pleasantly surprised when he stripped down to boxers and I found that he has an absolutely perfect body. Think slim hips, strong V-lines and 0% body fat.... just completely toned everything. Right. (Sorry for the stockphoto, just needed an example.)

So we get in bed, and get back to making out. Its more sweet and passionate than hot and heavy (to be graphic, there isn't any intense grinding or groping or moving or anything else that would lead a person to believe this was a segway to other activities), and goes on for about 15 minutes before, ALL OF A SUDDEN, there's a hand in my pants. Literally, like a flash of lightning.

And in a similar fashion I yanked it out and asked him what the hell he thought he was doing. He apologized profusely and said it was because he was drunk. We kissed for another minute, until he pulled away, and (get this) asked me if I had a condom.

I asked him if he was kidding. No. I asked him what exactly he needed a condom for. He said, with the most sincere look on his face, that it was really important to him to be "safe."

"Were you not listening?? Did I not tell you before that nothing more was going to happen? That 'staying over' didn't entail anything?? Did I not just get mad a second ago when you put your hand down my pants?!"

Again, he apologized profusely, blamed it on all the drinks that I had made him (hesitantly.... that he had kept asking for) and then apologized some more and said I was "lucky" that it was him (a nice guy) instead of some drunk jerk that would try to take advantage of the situation (he has a point, but a weird time to bring up threatening situations with strangers). We kissed for a little bit longer and went to sleep.

So I awoke this morning to a very sexy, quietly snoring bedmate who had stolen all the covers. I managed to weasel some out of his grasp and rolled the opposite way to go back to sleep. The snoring stopped and he rolled over towards me, and said "awwww" while he wrapped his arms and legs around me and buried his face in my hair and told me how nice it was to wake up and see me next to him. And then he apologized profusely for last night and told me how embarrassed he was for being like that, and understood if I never wanted to see him again but that he really wasn't that kind of guy and it was really just the alcohol talking, and that he just feels so bad about it.

From then we rolled around and laughed and kissed and talked and snuggled and tickled each other (and were consistently turned on the whole time, though not in the aggressive way like the night before, but more in a cute funny way that we kept giggling about) 'til I realized suddenly that I had exactly an hour before I had to leave for work and get there exactly on time, and I hadn't even gotten out of bed yet, so I jumped up and got ready while he hung out with me, and drove him home on my way to work. He sent me a few really sweet texts during the day, telling me that he was thinking about me and how beautiful he thinks I am.... I could really get used to that.

I secretly hope that he can pull together some ambition and a car in the next few weeks so that he can be my boyfriend. But that might be somewhat of a miracle.

A week without an inch?

So a little update on Nick D…. it’s been an interesting week. We’ve spent so much time together lately; we’ve driven down the coast to have dinner, gone to movies, gone dancing (many, many times), gone shopping, and he’s spent the night at my house literally every night with the exception of one, and only because he had to go to chapel in the morning (his college is extremely Christian… its actually required every day but he finds ways to get out of it).

And every single night it’s the same thing. He comes over, we watch TV on my bed for awhile, somehow end up getting into a super sexually-charged tickling match, eventually decide its time to go to sleep, strip down to underwear and get into bed-- where we sleep facing each other, arms and legs entangled, with our faces about 2 inches from each other. AND HE STILL HASN’T KISSED ME.

I even started making little comments about it… apparently I’m not bold enough to just kiss him myself, but I keep trying to hint about it. He finally said something last night to the effect of “I don’t want to rush things,” because it’s great how it is and he doesn’t want to ruin it by moving too fast. Too fast?? Are you kidding me?

I guess I should expect this from a guy going to pretty much the most uber-Christian school in the country right? But still.

It’s almost a little charming. Almost. But really its just frustrating and weird.

Adam Brody would never be like this.

In other news... my roommate went to a Speed Dating event a few nights ago and I am SO intrigued.... we all know how much I enjoy dating, and having 10 dates in an hour, or whatever it is, sounds like it'd be right up my alley. I signed up for one for next week, though it's kind of weird but they do some kind of a screening process, and don't tell you the location of the event until right before it starts. Sketch!

... I'm not sure it's going to help me to meet a reasonably normal guy, but worse comes to worst at least I'll have something fun to write about. :)