Captain America (Saves the Day)

It is an incredibly beautiful Memorial Day weekend…seriously, this has to be one of the nicest stretches of weather so far this year. Temps in the 70s, low humidity, plenty of blue skies and sunshine…yet, I am indoors, writing away while eating one of those bagged salads that expired yesterday. There is a good reason for that: I have a cold. It is not as bad as some I have had but it is bad enough that all I want is to sleep and be left alone. There is congestion, scratchy throat and bouts of coughing and sneezing. The general public is probably very happy I have decided to isolate myself, and I am more than happy to be alone and tell you guys about a day in my life. For the first time in about three months, I feel okay with me and where I find myself.

This is a moment I (and probably everyone I know , including you readers) have been waiting for. Do you readers know how tired I am of whining and pining away over Prince Charming? How tired I am of being whiny, conflicted and a distrustful bitch? (Seriously, when things were great with us, it was so incredibly indescribably wonderful to have trust in someone. It was freeing and peaceful.) Does anyone have any idea how ridiculous I feel to still have feelings for the man and to go to sleep hoping I dream of a reconciliation between us? How much I wish I could go back to the time when the lies were the truth? But, no more (or at least for today and the past few days)…even though I firmly believe that understanding is the first step towards acceptance, sometimes understanding really is as simple as falling for assholes and the only fault of yours is giving your heart to the wrong man. Period. Not my fault PC was Craigslist wrapped in eHarmony clothing.

I am finally removing the rose colored glasses that I kept firmly in place in spite of truth and reality slapping me in the face and the assault on my trust issues since January. The man is simply not.worth.it. I do not regret Prince Charming but let’s face it…he is a liar, a coward and has the mentality, maturity level and mindset of a teenage girl. He is not and was not ready for something real, responsible and substantial, and lacked the balls to tell me. There is a void with his absence, but I have spent far too much time and energy focusing on what I lost rather than remembering that I deserve better, that who is left in my life is so much more valuable and when Higher Powers close doors, They open windows. I am going to let go (as much as I can…Facebook stalking is still a very real possibility) and stop telling Panel members I think MG is a ruse for PC to actually date her daughter. Readers, please don’t pay that last statement any attention because I am known to twist my exes into sexual perverts when all is said and done.

So, I am going to tell you all about my Monday. May I just say that Mondays (in my book) do not need any help whatsoever in getting/being worse, yet somehow my Monday was off the charts and ripe with stupidity. It started with texts and emails from practically every man who has ever answered my ad reaching out to me. And not the decent, sincere ones…no, the flakes, negotiators and general assholes all found our prior communications and showed me that while time may heal all wounds, it does nothing for manners and common sense. I even heard from Ted, the guy from Utah who could/could not be PC in disguise. Let me fill you in on that one…he emailed me about 3 weeks ago and I responded (I am polite like that): I said hello and asked how was he doing and hoped life was treating him well. He comes back 8 hours later telling me he’s alive and I was merely an escort he passed on, so stop emailing him. Hmmmm…didn’t HE email ME? But I left it alone…I know who and what I am and sometimes…I even know who and what are simply not worth second thoughts. Then Monday, he emails asking how is his baby and he misses me. I ignored the email…two hours later, I am a bitch and I deserve all I get. Wow.

Couple these electronic aggravations with an incredibly busy day at work and all I wanted was a break. Which I was getting at lunchtime: I had a date with Captain America! Captain America (my team gave him the name) is the 23 year old security guard at work who is crushing on me hard, or at least that is the way I see it. He always stops at my window when on his rounds to stare at me. I would say talk to me, but he really does not have a lot to say…he is content to stand there and watch me go about my business while I prattle on to fill the silence. In the winter, he would fetch me my coat and help me into it and when I say my shoulders are tight, he comes into the office to rub my shoulders. He walks me to the elevator and hugs me good night when it is time for me to go home. He is very courtly and gentlemanly, which are good things. We have exchanged email addresses and phone numbers but it is rare we communicate outside the office. When I told him last week that I would not be in the office on Friday (he works part time second shift, Friday-Monday so we only see each other 2 days a week), he suggested he come in early on Monday to meet me for lunch. Said it would be an honor and a pleasure to do so. I had my misgivings: the man cannot hold a ten minute conversation with me, so what would we do for an hour? It is evident to me and my entire team that the man is infatuated with me (so you already know he is crazy), but even if I could past the age difference (25 years) and just go with it…we all know I get attached too quickly and we all know this would not be a long term thing here. I am not emotionally equipped for things that are just for the fun of it. But, I like seeing him look at me like I am ice cream on a hot day, I like that when I am not at my desk, he searches for me, I like being liked.

I wore a new dress for the lunch. The dress…online it looked simply divine. I went into debt over this dress, that is how pretty it was. It is black with watermelon colored polka dots and it is a skater style dress of which I have two other dresses in the same style. However, this one was…different. It fit differently, and by differently, I mean…wrong. It showed the sides of my bra (I had to wear a shrug with it), accentuated all my fullness and plumpness in not flattering ways and the material was just…weird. It felt like a heavy damask drape and the polka dots felt like bubble wrap. Pair that with the hair I chose to wear…I looked like a cross between Mama Cass of The Mamas and the Papas and a spotted whale. Do not let anyone tell you differently….if they do, they are lying. If this were a blind date, I would have cancelled but hell, Captain America has seen me before. Lots of times before, so while the dress did bother me a little, I was pretty blasé about it. Well, as blasé as I can get about things which means I only asked three people how I looked instead five.

The lunch…it started with an incredibly Grey’s Anatomy moment: my nerves were frazzled and frayed, not only from the neuropathy and my now constant edginess and the not so divine dress, but also from the above mentioned electronic ridiculosity. As soon as we were seated, I left Captain America perusing the menu (he had never been to the restaurant before) under the pretext of using the bathroom. And yes, I did have to pee but really, I wanted to talk to Artsy Craftsy. Well, vent to Artsy Craftsy since I ended up doing most of the talking. And readers, I was sitting on the toilet, pantyhose around my knees with toilet tissue in one hand and my phone in the other, having a mini-meltdown. Over lots of things: the constant state of pain and numbness Dottie brings, Prince Charming and his complete rejection of me and all things me, the realization I HAVE started to let go of PC (whether I want to or not), the fact that Captain America is 25 years younger (I could be his mother!), and that I am simply not ready….and I WANT to be ready. I want someone to share my day with, someone to look at me as if I am the only woman in the world, someone to rub my(covered) feet at the end of a stressful day. But I do not want to start over…I do not want to learn, explain, invest and have emotions grow and end up once again in a spot where I am left alone, stuck on stupid and wondering why me. I don’t. Artsy Craftsy was her usual wonderful self…she pointed out that I am peeing in a toilet and that there were more dignified ways to have a breakdown, and a first date (if it was that) is not the time to have one. Besides, I was doing what I do best: NOT staying in the moment. Forget the past, forget the future…right now, I was having a delicious lunch with a man who found me fascinating. Enjoy THAT.

And you know what? Lunch was great: he told me about his family (he and his brother live at home with parents), his time at West Point and his hopes of making the cut with a local police department. He told me he did not want children and was single. He asked me about hobbies and interests, living in the city and one thing he said that made me feel a bit better and a little silly at my bathroom meltdown is that he does not like getting emotionally involved with co-workers. So maybe he just likes me as a person and looks at me as a friend. THAT would be nice. So we laughed, talked and went back to work. And when it was time for rounds, he again came to the window and told me lunch was good and he had fun. I told him it was good for me also and it was…when I let go of issues and expectations I thought he would have of me, it was really nice to have lunch with a guy who found me good company… without nudity or mind games. Lunch with Captain America erased the stress of the morning and put me in a much better mood for the remainder of the day….amazing what some positive male attention can do for a girl. Then Friday, when he walked me to the elevator, he said it would be a week before we saw each other again and that was too long. Not reading too much into that…I have enough going on in my head without adding to the pile.

So this is all I wanted to share with you guys…and it could have been condensed to four sentences tops: Had a crappy Monday. Went to lunch with a cute, younger guy. Had breakdown in the bathroom. Had fun anyway. Hoping everyone has a relaxing and safe rest of the weekend; I am going to clean, cook, do laundry and finally write the post about Dottie. As always, thanks for stopping past and reading and as usual….enjoy your day!

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Things Fall Apart

The title of this post should have been Déjà Vu, but quite certain with the my life and the people who enter and inhabit it, I will have a chance to use that title and it will be a beyond perfect fit. I chose today’s title because my Panel and I are…going through is the best way to describe it. On the surface, one would not think so: some of us are in love, in relationships, reconnecting with family on deeper levels, moving forward and walking around with smiles in place, seemingly okay with life. But underneath are demons and tensions; uncertainty, anxiety, doubt, fear, missing and bewilderment. Some of us are feeling out of place, seeing the train wreck and no idea how to stop it, some of us are trying to derail defeat…it’s a huge behind the blog mess for some of my Panel. Maybe one day I can elaborate more but probably not…they/we are just doing the best we can each day with what we are given.

While I may not be able to elaborate on my Panel and their problems, I CAN elaborate on mine. 2014 is not my year. Seriously. We are almost to the halfway mark (where did the first six months GO??) and the only aspect of my life I can honestly say I have no complaints with and want to put forth more (and better) efforts towards is the professional. The assignment is still going strong, good/better things may be on the horizon for me there and my work team has been incredible since Dottie’s arrival. I am monitored, watched like a HAWK and called out on my shit (chocolate and cigarettes). There have been shaking of heads, arguments and outbursts, but at the end of the day…we are family, friends and we all want each other around.

My personal life is non-existent…responses to my ads come and go, and the flakes, fakes, gameplayers and double standards run rampant. Which is par for the course and fine with me…I am trying to make dollars, not friends and if a man is kind enough to show me upfront he is not worth the email…I thank him for that. I have said it before and I will say it again…not sure how anyone makes a living doing this fulltime, all the time. Thank goodness I have always had other financial options, and doing my best to make sure I always have them. Emotionally, I am a WRECK and a MESS. Okay, not that bad, but the missing over/for Prince Charming has yet to subside. Why, I have zero idea…the man has not spoken a word to me in almost 100 days. The medical emergency that heralded the arrival of Dottie…nothing. The gift I sent…nothing. I curse him out…nothing. I pour my heart out…nothing. I tell him I have forgiven him (but have not and will not forget again)…nothing. I tell him I don’t want a reconciliation…just some type of closure…an apology would be nice, remorse even better….nothing.

Yet I still feel him, I feel that he misses me, that maybe…just maybe, the third time would be the charm with us. Why am I (on a practically daily basis), battling with myself over whether or not to reach out? Why is he the first person I am eager to share my day with? Why do I still want him to see me in my pretty clothes? I miss his texts and phone calls, I miss hearing about the kids’ practices and games, I miss the compliments and validation, I miss feeling wanted, pretty and amazing to someone other than the Panel. And I have no basis for these feelings…he has shown his true colors, and shown me what I meant to him. His insincerity and falseness are what I am remembering first and foremost. I am keeping his not being there when I truly needed him at the forefront; his lies, deceit, flakiness…it is all RIGHT THERE. And the Mexican Girlfriend and his future family are all there, standing beside the man. Yet, I still miss PC so fucking much…. maybe I am grieving, which means healing? Maybe I am an abuse loving masochist in need of professional therapy.

For real, I think PC is my what if? After all, we were on the road to what could have been an amazing relationship once you take out all the unhealthiness and co-dependencies (yes, I know that is probably the most incredibly surreal statement ever) and I have not had an what if in forever. The what if is what keeps me from boarding the train headed to Fuckthatville… maybe, just maybe…the man I fell for, the man who gave me hope, promise and happiness will come back. Maybe. The train is patiently waiting with my luggage onboard. But I keep hesitating to take the first step onto it because I think he will come running down the platform like Ben Affleck or some other hot, hunky guy who realizes at the 11th hour who I am and what he has in me..what we could have together. However, with the increasing stonewall, starting to think I am just a dumb girl who doesn’t know he isn’t the one and is scared of where the journey will take her next.

It hurts to know that PC feels that one if us is not worthy of even friendship and it frustrates that once again, I have to accept an apology I will never get and to say goodbye to a ghost and a memory. Seriously, what IS it with men that a goodbye is so hard to say? It brings with it a huge disappointment, a sense of déjà vu and the realization that no matter how great things are…things fall apart for the stupidest of reasons. And here is another question: why are all the qualities that draw a man to you are the very ones that drive him away? Not the physical ones, but the inner qualities like honesty, being strong, independent, intelligent, caring, kind?

I just keep reminding myself that the RIGHT man won’t be a liar, won’t be intimidated, will appreciate the fabulous and the flawed in me. He won’t set me up to take the fall when he fucks things up (no joke, PC told me in the beginning that as long as I make him happy, we will be together). Together we will push each other towards goals and dreams, strengthen each other and make each other incredibly happy with no conditions or strings. Looking at this as my “sowing season”…planting seeds, being patient and sitting still awaiting my harvest and what comes in the next chapter. Wish me luck, because turning this page in my book is harder than I thought.

So this is the end of this post and once again, I thank you readers for coming around to check on me and hanging in there with me. I will be back soon with a post about Dottie (she totally needs a post). A always, thanks for stopping past and reading and as usual….enjoy your day!

Vegas

I have been on a date. Two of them. With the same guy. Real, dinner and a movie dates. And while I may not be ready to jump back in the dating pool or open myself up to another person right now, it has been nice to dip my toes in and look at the water. I placed an ad on CL for a dinner partner, he answered and we had a decent enough time. He was funny, sympathetic, a proud papa, happily single and accommodating. I was probably a self centered, needy chick who wants to be anything BUT single, but he overlooked that. Then we had another date (maybe date is too ambitious…he pays for dinner, I cover the movies. Is that a date?) and again, it was nice and fun. We may do it again and I have no objection. It is nice to have someone to share my day/week with over food and someone to sit in the movie theater with.

We probably won’t go any further than outing friends…he has an fwb and I am not ready. I am still eager for (constant) attention, I am still too ready to belong to someone and waaay too ready to bond and attach myself to someone just so I can try to recapture a happiness that belongs to/with another man, another relationship. I am not ready to let the next one be himself, to let things unfold naturally and discover a new happiness. Hell, I am not even ready to tackle the issues and revelations going on inside of me, which is why today’s post is about Secret Lover.

Apparently I owe the entire Panel an apology because no one knows who the hell I am talking about when it comes to Secret Lover, not even Morning Person. This is why I titled this post Vegas after the popular slogan…what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas. Granted, Secret Lover came along when there was no Panel and I was in the early heydays of Married Man but still hard to believe that I neglected to tell anyone this…and if you know me, you know I tell all my business. So consider this post me spreading the news and introducing you to a guy who is/was an FWB before the term become popular.

I met Secret Lover about 1,000 years ago (actually, closer to 9 years ago)…I had not been in my apartment a full year and Married Man and I were as close to being in love with each other at the same time as we would ever be…except when I met Secret Lover, we were broken up. As usual, which should tell you our version of being in love. I mention this tidbit because when I am in a “relationship”, I do not cheat. I am fiercely loyal, which may be why Secret Lover has never really been a topic for discussion…we see each other when I am not committed and remember, I can be a relationship all by myself. In any case, we met at night…late night. I remember it was raining and I was outside smoking a cigarette while waiting for laundry to dry. (I had the brilliant idea to do laundry at 1am) I was wearing a nightgown that was not particularly revealing or sexy but I obviously caught his eye.

SL was driving past and he stopped his car in the middle of the street after glancing over at me…he then backed up, parked and walked up to me. If I had any sense, I would have just gone back inside but I was just getting to the good part of the cigarette and he really was cute. I am a sucker for cute and a fool for handsome. So he was tall, good looking and drunk…really, he smelled like someone poured a bottle of gin on his head. I was sans eye liner, lipstick and hair…and I was a LOT fatter/heavier back then…and his first words to me were: you’re beautiful. Thus followed some banter and awkward pickup lines…I told him he was drunk; he said he was tipsy and not blind; he asked did I live in the neighborhood…I just looked down at my nightgown and bedroom slippers. He said he wanted me…to touch me, to taste me. I told him it would cost him…and Secret Lover gave me every dollar in his wallet ($175) AND carried the laundry up!

SL is a great masseuse…he actually studied massage at one point when he was single in an effort to meet/pickup ladies. When we met, he had a girlfriend but they were not living together…now they are and have bought a house together. He never mentions engagement or marriage. I did ask once if he loved her and his response was: I am comfortable with her. She is the one who knows I like fishsticks and orange kool-aid when I am sick; I know she will leave her day’s outfit all over the bedroom and maybe part of the bathroom. We know things about each other, we can deal with each other. And that was all he has ever said about his relationship..that and he wants no children. He knows when I am in a relationship and kinda hated on PC for a minute because I was so wrapped up in that bubble of happiness. Secret Lover is the one who told me with each unhappy ending to stop arguing with men; I didn’t need them when I had him. But I do not have SL, not really.

Certainly, I am a convenience for the man and the times I have been unavailable, he gave begging a brand new name; the few times I gave in, he would say he was thirsty for a tall glass of water. And I do believe I am the only woman he sees outside his relationship. I remember when he asked about a dental appointment and I told him I had periodontal disease…he said he would be right back. He came back with a condom because he thought periodontal disease was an STD and he REALLY wanted some oral that day. That was a WOW moment on a lot of levels. He knows nothing about my past, my addiction or even about the men/relationships save I cared for them, they hurt me, I went buttfuck crazy. He does know when I am unemployed because I tell him and he always offers extra money. I have no idea where he works, what he does for a living or even what kind of car he drives.

We don’t know a lot about each other but I know this: I trust him. Maybe this is why the Panel does not know of Secret Lover…there is no need to tell them I have a date coming over, no need to check in afterwards. In fact, my trust in/of SL is what prompted me to even mention him…he asked to take explicit pictures of me and it struck me as I agreed to it, that this is probably the only man I would do this for. No way would AFO or Married Man be able to get me to agree to anything like that. Him and PC never asked for pictorial evidence but not sure I would have given in had they asked. Even though what I have with SL is nothing but acronyms (NSA, FWB), I never feel used with him and there is zero analysis…probably because I have no expectations and no hope for us. We just…are and how I wish I could have been that way with the men I cared about, but part of having no expectations and hope is that none are given. SL makes no declarations or promises…he is completely upfront and honest. He does not say he wants to take me places, he does not ask me to call him anything but his name, he only calls me when he is actually on the way. No promises, no mixed signals.

And maybe that is why we work so well together and have lasted so long. The boundaries are clearly defined and the nature of what we have is crystal clear. I think that is why my control issues are at ease with him…no need to be perfect or to hide my flaws. First, he is not here long enough to notice if I am flawed or fabulous and no need to show Secret Lover I am worthy of progression or labels or anything like what I feel when the common sense leaves my body over a guy I can envision a future with. What we have now is the best it’s going to get. Period. And I am okay with that. SL is the perfect example of me being able to work within stated parameters.

So there it is…the tale of Secret Lover and you readers know as much as I do about the man. I am going to get started on changing my closet over which will probably take at least 4 evenings/nights (seriously, I bagged up and gave away three trashbags of clothes and still not a lot of space to work with) and start drafting new posts. I know what I want to write about but who knows what will actually transpire…I have been promising a post on Meredith Grey for years. As always, thanks for stopping past and reading and as usual…..enjoy your day!