A date in the life...

A date in the life...

Friday, November 25, 2016

Tickety Tock Tock






As I sit here sipping a light Cabernet, I am unable to get this idea out of my mind regarding my relationships.  I woke up this morning wondering if I will always be single.  This thought has not only consumed me all day but has also forced me to take a long hard look at my life.  Let's be honest, the only way to truly dissect the facts is to drink wine, so naturally I am fully locked and loaded. 

As I sift through ex files, I see a lot of men who ultimately were commitment phobic, cheaters, nut jobs and narcissists.  I have dated some truly crazy mother fuckers but that doesn't mean I don't take any responsibility for things not going well.  One relationship in particular, ended with me getting beat up by him while he was in a drunken rage.  He doesn't "recall" it and blames the amount of alcohol he had in him but my coworkers and friends remember it clearly as they saw the after math on me.  Why do I bring this up you ask?  I can look back on each situation and pin point something I could have done differently even in the case of getting tossed around by a man who I was incredibly happy with until that moment.  That particular evening, I was the designated driver to him and our friends during a night out on the town.  After dropping off our company, we went back to my house.  He was so intoxicated that he became very argumentative and determined to drive himself home.  I did not want him leaving because not only could he have hurt himself but also an innocent bystander.  He did not want me driving him home.  He was hell bent on driving himself.  I blocked him from leaving and he started yelling at me to move then my dog started barking.  I saw him make a fist while looking down at my dog and my instinct was to protect my dog.  In doing so, I then got pushed through a door (breaking it in half) and then experienced more of his rage before he eventually passed out.  What could I have done to avoid that?  I could have just dropped him off at his house before I went home.  I didn't have to bring us both back to my house.  He could have come back to my house the next day and picked up his car.  A friend of mine at the time said that I should've just let him leave and not block him.  Again, he could've hurt or killed someone and that is something I just couldn't live with.  Wounds, bruises and bones heal but you can't replace a life. 

Woah, that was deep!  Already time to refill my glass... if you also need to fill up then go ahead, I will wait!

The reason I woke up thinking about this eternal single life dilemma is simply due to a dear friend of mine who text me last night after reading my latest blog entry and suggested that I may have to succumb to a permanent single life.  In short, she said that I am going to end up alone with 20 dogs.  I am not going to lie, that idea doesn't bother me as much as it should merely because I love dogs so much.  Another good friend recently said that I have made a career out of being single.  Not true and certainly not my intention but still struck a nerve with me.
Sidebar: If you abuse animals, then you are nothing more than a worthless piece of worm infested shit and deserve any karmic retribution that comes your way.  Just saying.
Nobody, including myself, can say that I haven't put myself out there and given dating and relationships the old college try.   I have given it the college try, grad school, med school and every sort of "try" in between.  On the flip side of the dating coin, I have managed to know some men who I think I could really settle down with.   So why haven't I?  These men are not only rare but they are also unattainable.  There are a majority of them who are already in a committed relationship but just looking for an affair.  I am no home wrecker and not interested in adding that to my resume in this lifetime.  The rest of them aren't wearing "single and ready to commit" signs, they don't live here or in the general vicinity (or in the same country) .  Or is it possible that there is another reason?  Maybe one little word that goes by the name "timing"?   Yes, timing!  That's it!

Speaking of time... it's time to sip sip sip my way into more inebriated wisdom. 

What does timing have to do with relationships (or love as Tina Turner once asked)?  Naturally one could deduce that I have met some actual assholes, liars and all out creepers but what about the good ones?  There have been a few but there was a reason that they didn't stick.  While in my 20's, I was in a relationship with a guy who wasn't really my cup of tea but we got along beautifully.  We were not only compatible sexually but we also got along like best friends.  As time went on, I found myself attracted to the guy who wasn't originally my type.  This went on for some time then he suggested we move in together.  So being in my early 20's (and not knowing better) I agreed to it.  While at home packing one afternoon, boyfriend who we will call Sam, called and said his truck was in the shop and asked for a ride to a friends house on my way to work.  No problem boyfriend!  While at work that night, a young(er) girl asked to see me.  She introduced herself then proceeded to tell me that we had Sam in common.  In fact, I dropped him off to her house that day.  Wait, it gets better.  She also proudly announced that she was pregnant, they were in love and since he hadn't told me she felt it was her duty.  Well shit!  On my way home that night, I stopped by Sam's apartment and calmly asked him about the girl.  He sat and very matter of fact said that it was true, he did love her but didn't know how to tell me because he loved us both.  He happened to be sitting in a chair near the sliding glass door and next to me was a case of wine we had purchased while on a trip to a winery the weekend prior.  Naturally, I grabbed a few bottles and slung them at him.  I missed (sadly) and instead managed to break the sliding glass door.  Whoopsie!  In retrospect, that was a huge waste of amazing wine and a waste of a perfectly fine door.  I really liked Sam and our time together but clearly the timing was wrong.  I was young, he was not ready to commit to just one person and I foolishly wasted wine (something I would never do in my older and wiser age).

One of my best relationships ended due to poor timing.  100%, timing.  He and I met due to the strangest of circumstances.  My boyfriend was sleeping with his wife.  Yep, you heard me!  This man found out about his wife and then found out who the man was which lead him to me.  I will never forget the day when I got the call.  This deep southern voice on the other end introduced himself and then dropped the bomb.  The man I was with and cared deeply for was the same one diddling this guys wife.   Of course he and I split but there was this married (soon to be divorced) man who was devastated and needed a friend.  He needed that person who wasn't directly involved in his family and life but equally understood what he was going through to talk to during this shit storm.  So out of this mess we found a friendship.  His name was Kelly and he was such a warm and sweet person.  We found ourselves talking every single day.  Eventually our conversations were no longer about those who we split from but rather about just everyday things and life.  One night while talking, he told me that it may sound crazy but he had feelings for me and I couldn't lie, I felt the same.  He then asked if we could spend some time together once his divorce was final.  It was a really quick divorce as she was already planning her future with my ex so it took no time at all to complete.  We literally came face to face the day after his divorce was final.  We both dove in feet first and had such a good time together.  It was that rare moment that I felt I had finally met my "soul mate".  We both dropped the L bombs and couldn't get enough of each other.  We even talked marriage.  Then things changed.  He became a bit distant.  He wasn't so happy sounding anymore.  Then I got the call.  He said that it all happened too fast and he never took the time to deal with what happened with his wife, their daughter now living between two homes, his parents, the house and cars they had just bought when he found out about the affair etc..  He went on to say that he avoided all of the heartache and reality by jumping into a relationship.  It was all now hitting him and he needed to deal with it.  I couldn't argue with him.  I loved him, I truly did but we did just dive into "us" when we were both cheated on.  We didn't argue nor was it a bad conversation.  It was just sad and honest.  I told him I understood and loved him very much but I knew that he needed that.  Then we hung up.  I was heart broken.  I missed him as soon as we said goodbye.  Throughout the years, we have exchanged texts saying "Merry Christmas", "Happy Birthday" and so on but that's it.  It was that relationship that made me understand the importance of timing.  I believe that if he and I merely just kept it light and stayed in touch after it happened, that eventually once the smoke cleared that we would've been very happy together for the long haul.  He was such a genuine and wonderful man and I am better for experiencing that time of my life with him. 

Where does that leave me?  Quite frankly it leaves me thirsty with an empty glass but that is an easy fix!

Since Kelly, I have had relationships and dates come and go from my life.  I've even found myself in a situation where I was seeing someone who I liked right out of the gate and things were going well then he told me that it was moving too fast and he cut the cord.  Some time later, he got back in touch with me and told me that he feels like he "fucked up" and blew it.  Now to him I was the one that got away.  So this round it was about his timing.  To this day, we are friends and still chat about his dates gone wrong and so on.  He's a good guy and I hope he finds that woman who has her shit together and his timing is on point.

Again I ask, where does that leave me?  Sure, all of it has left me with lessons learned, a few scars, a chipped heart, good memories, tears and a deep adoration for the almighty vino but what else?  I will tell you.  All of it has given me wisdom.  As my little internal clocks ticks away and I am reminded that I am now 40, never married, no children (but awesome dogs) and single, that I am still open to love.  I am not so wounded that I think love is bullshit and relationships don't work.  No.  I am now being more cautious and treading lightly because timing is everything.  I want genuine love despite what certain friends think.  This man has to be single.  He has to be looking for more than just wham bam hand me a tissue ma'am.  He and I need to be friends just as much as much as we are lovers.  Then of course the obvious things like trust, honesty, humor, attraction, a job, loves dogs etc...  Sure we all have baggage but I want a man who has his bags tucked away and more importantly, a fresh battery in his watch so his timing is right.

Christmas is around the corner so happy holidays and if you come across Santa, ask him to throw a nice guy in my stocking will ya!

Cheers!








Sunday, October 30, 2016

Earth and Uranus


What is that noise you hear?  That is the sound of the precious cork leaving the perfectly crafted bottle filled with an endless array of grapes squeezed into what can only be described as the juice of the heavens.  I have poured my 32oz glass and ready to dive into this blank page and fill heads with my words of possible wisdom and inebriated thoughts. 

So what is on my mind tonight?  Failed relationships, psychotic first dates, men who believe that they are real vampires?  No.  I have actually been giving a lot of thought to the idea of men being from Mars and women being from Venus.  Excellent theory and not to mention, sold a shit ton of books.   It basically pointed out the differences in men and women and although I did agree with a lot of it, I think there needs to be a basic and more up to date version.  One that is written by a female who not only has dated A LOT but also writes from a (wine filled) experienced female perspective and not from a man with a PH.D.  Red wine trumps PH.D.  Sorry John Gray.  Let's face it, times are changing but the ongoing battle of male vs. female is not.  Our country has gone bat crap crazy.  We see and hear that "Black lives matter" at every blink of the eye, people killing cops instead of obeying the law, creating new terms daily for transgender (or is it gender non-comforming), an NFL player (asshole) refusing to respect our flag and Pledge of Allegiance because he feels like this country disrespects his race, there's an orange dick wad reality star running for president who thinks women are nothing more than a piece of ass and we have blown the idea of being politically correct right out of the water and replaced it by everyone being offended by EVERYTHING!  You can't fart in your own home without someone being appalled or having an opinion about it.  Look, it is actually possible to say something and not hear a running diatribe of how you offended someone or disrespected something.  Just stay away from social media if you do express your thoughts and enjoy a nice bottle of wine instead. 

**Sidebar**  while I take in a few extra sips... that NFL moron should think twice about his patriotic protest.  This country that supposedly disrespects you and your race is the same country that is paying you millions of dollars for chasing a ball around on grass and patting your buddies asses during the game once a week.  You're welcome douche bag.   So sorry you feel you need to sit instead of stand during the song of this great USA but I like will keep standing with my hand placed over my heart loudly singing the words of our allegiance all the while this white girl works her ass off for a tiny percentage of what you make.  You call the white people privileged, I say that your ethnic ass is a spoiled moronic dick**

Woooh!  Those rants feel good to get out. Like I said, if you don't like it (or what I have to say, then get off social media)    Ahhhhhh....okay, moving on...

Are Mars and Venus really that different?  Are they just planets and that's where the commonality ends?   Is this really true of men and women?  I believe that we are quite different in ways yet we are both still bipeds (although I would argue some men I've met being anything more than a penis and a set of balls).  The fact that men and women are both bodies on two legs can't be the only thing we share.  There has to be more but how do we connect the dots and the stars between the planets?  I think it is simple.  Communication!

Let me deconstruct... and refill my glass...

One BIG difference between us is sex.  SEX SEX SEX!  There are several ways to actually do the almighty deed, granted, but there are some big misconceptions in this department.  Let's break it down (if you were a kid growing up in the 80's and 90's like me, then that has a different meaning).  When us women know we are going to have sex, we get into the shower, wash our gardens, trim or remove the hedges, shampoo/condition our hair, exfoliate our skin and continue to shave everything south of our necks.  Then it's on to the oral hygiene.  We make sure we floss and brush our teeth then dry our hair knowing it is about to get smashed to our scalps and flailing in every direction once coitus is over and top it all off to make sure we either took our "pill", put in the diaphragm or put condoms in the drawer in case he didn't come packing.  Now the men.  What do they do?  They merely have to take off their clothes.  Next is the sex itself.  Men must've been brought up being told (or watched too much porn) that us women love our boobs being man handled to the point of pain.  Believe it or not, it isn't sexy or enjoyable when you treat them like air hockey strikers (those round things you use to hit the puck around the air hockey table).  Kissing them, maybe a bit of nibbling is good but don't scar them for life.  We already have to get the twins squished down to pancakes once a year for a mammogram and it is no trip to IHOP I tell you.  By the way (another side bar) boobs are really just fat.  That's right you heard me, FAT.  There is some irony to be had here.  What I've found in the dating world is that men want a thin woman with big boobs. They are turned off by fat yet the main feature (boobs) they are looking for are nothing but fat (and in some cases, silicone).  Random thought I know, but one to sip wine on and ponder nonetheless.  Okay where were we?  Oh right, drinking and discussing sex.  So after the breast squishing, men usually think they've accomplished four play and dive into the holiest of holes.  Now, missionary is the more common position and in fact, my favorite because there is something so sexy about the weight of the man you're attracted to being on top of you and being face to face breathing each other in while enjoying the pure ecstasy.  Men argue that it's a lazy position for the woman but what they don't realize is that it isn't all that lazy.  We have to spread our legs according to the size of the guy.  Our hips spread to abnormal widths and at times, we have to bring our feet up to our heads.  Believe it or not, we don't do that in normal every day life unless it's for the Cirque De Solei shows.  Guys ask us to get on top of them and straddle them like horses then ride them into the sunset.  Again, not the easiest thing and a bit of work.  We are basically on our knees, using the quads we never knew we had to help us slide up and down on your man pole.  There is no perfect place for our hands so we have to balance our bodies with our core.  Then you men take the opportunity to grab our boobs and squeeze the life out of them all the while we are working out as if at the gym to please you.  Lastly, one of the other main and popular positions is the one and only doggy style position.  Oh I can't tell you what a turn on it is to be screwed the same way our beloved furry pets are.  We are on our hands and knees, staring at a headboard while we get pounded, hoping we don't knock our foreheads into a wall so hard we get a concussion.  There's also the  occasional whoopsie when you boys "accidentally" pull out then go to shove it back in but miss and try diving in to the poop shoot. 
"Sorry babe I slipped."  
"You slipped???  Your slip has now given me not only pain in my ass but the oh so joyful feeling that I have to crap."
Ladies, I would also be aware that you might have a urinary tract infection because Mr. Whoopsie just put his wiener in your butt then back into your vagina.  Not sexy boys.  It's disgusting, wrong and expensive after the trip to the doctor and prescription for antibiotics along with infrequent urination, cramping and burning.   So if you insist of fucking us like Fido, then keep it in the designated hole.

The other component to the topic of sex is communication.  There are a few branches to this tree so keep up.

What I find so fascinating about sexual communication is that it seems easier to fuck one another rather than discuss it.  God forbid we actually tell each other what we like or dislike.  Imagine (women) that you have a horrible gag reflex to the point that you have to watch TV while you brush your teeth just to keep your mind off the toothbrush in your mouth so you don't vomit?    Now you meet Mr. Right (now) and you are turned on, hop into the sack and the first thing he does is pull his boner out and grab the back of your head directing you to suck on it?  "He's so good looking and his last name sounds so good with my first name so we could get married so I need to just do it and power through".   So you suck it up (so to speak) and take it in.  Oh no, here it comes, the gagging!!  So you move your mouth towards the tip (yes we girls can play that game too) and then use one of your hands to work the shaft while you do as little as possible with your mouth otherwise you will puke all over his genitals and no more future wedding.  Hopefully this is just four play and not the entire act because if he erupts and doesn't even give you the oh so seductive tap on the head as your warning, you are getting a mouthful and no matter how many sweets he eats or pineapple juice he has ingested (that's a myth) it tastes like bleach and salt.  If anyone says they like the taste, they are lying.  So if the shlong hitting your tonsils didn't make you throw up, the unexpected burst of semen will.  There is a flip side to this as well.  Say you like pleasuring a man with your mouth but you don't want him to play out the grand finale down your throat, then what do you do?  Oh no, you might have to communicate this!!  What do you say?  It's pretty easy.  Whether you initiate it to be playful or he just grabs your head and thrusts, you really need to speak up.  It doesn't have to be a serious sit down dinner but it can be easy.  "Babe, I enjoy getting you excited by sucking on you a little but once you are really hard, put it in me".  That's right, take charge!  If he insists that he wants to make his O face at your expense, simply tell him that you'd rather not but it's far more sexy to take that bone and put it in you.  Now, if he acts like a child and gets mad over it, show baby boy the door because ladies, you have just met a grown child and his tantrums won't only be in the bedroom.  Then pat yourself on the back, treat yourself to a glass of wine and relish in the fact that you just dodged a bullet.  This advice goes for the men as well.  If you are a man who doesn't really get off on the almighty BJ perhaps due to a bad experience with teeth biting down or it's simply not your thing, then tell us.  Trust me, we won't be upset by it. 

With all that said, the next misstep in sexual communication is the sex itself.   There are so many positions to be had when it comes to penetration but that doesn't mean you try to do them all the first night we sleep with you.  Don't get on us then try to flip us over, then on our sides, then against the wall and onto the floor for rug burns just because you watch this done in porn.  Sure, we all enjoy quickies, strong forceful sex randomly, long passionate love making or trying to get away with it in the pool surrounded by others hoping they don't notice but there is no deadline.  Not all of it has to be accomplished the first time.  We have to find our groove with you.  Once you are hitting that spot, the last thing we want is for you to pull out, wrangle us over and try from a new angle.  Boom!  We have now lost our female boner and have to start over.  Hang out in the area, let us enjoy the moment and more than that, let us woman have the almighty orgasm.  Very hard to accomplish when we are running from one position to the next.  Trust me.  If we have a good time and you do us right, we will be back for more.  However, if you are trying to win a triathlon in bed, we probably won't sign up for the next race.  Just talk to each other!  There is no sexier four play than actually talking about what you want or what you'd like to do to one another.  Isn't it funny how we can sit across from each other sharing stories of our fucked up childhood, divulge our history of law breaking yet we can't look in the eyes of that same person and say, "I love it when you wake me in the night and get on top of me and go for it."   Trust me, this is hot.  Imagine the man you think about all the time tells you how sexy you are when kiss him between his thighs to get him going and spontaneously straddle his lap while he's on the couch?  It isn't a critique, it is a compliment.  Plus, you are getting what you want without offending the other person or getting his dick shoved down your esophagus.  Boom! 
That deserves a drink. 

Here is when the Earth vs. Uranus comes into play.  Women find it sexy to be told by their man that they love when the woman does this, that and the other to them.  Men get told that we would rather do this or that then suddenly we have killed their erections and offended their manhood.  Granted, the female race has been accused of talking too much but wouldn't it make more sense to be open and honest about the big bang (that magical thing that we actually have in common)?  Don't just stick it in her anus (see what I did there), tell her that it's something you like or want to try.   Either she is open to it or she has good reason not to do it.  So now there is the option to opt out of the ride down the anal highway or call Uber and hop on in.  Please, please, please do not just be going at it from behind then think that this would be a good time to pop it in.  Trust me, that never ends well for either of you. 
If you are someone who gets wet at the simple act of kissing, then tell the one you are with.  Show me a partner who wouldn't be excited by this piece of knowledge.  So what's the point of saying this or anything?  Because then you get more of it.  See!  Communicating what you like can actually get you it. 

Hell, all this wisdom makes me thirsty.  Hold please...

Okay so I have given some strong examples of why communication is so important but why do I think that men are from Uranus and Women are from earth?  I believe that men are afraid to express their feelings because they are raised that way.  Be tough, suck it up, don't cry bla bla bla.  Girls are brought up crying, playing out acts with their dolls, hormones with periods that make us ride an emotional roller coaster every month etc...  So here we are as adults still acting the same way.  Instead of dolls, us women still play with things in our heads and over analyze, we have a season pass to the monthly period ride and cry at commercials.   Men are still roughing each other up, sucking up their emotions and would rather get hit in the head with a bat than have anyone see him cry.  This leads to men doing the shit they have built up in their minds despite the consequences and women are either talking about it until they are blue in the face or over think it then too afraid to speak up in fear that they will lose their man.  But what do these planets have in common?  They share the same atmosphere.  We all share the same space. 
Above all, we are all human.  We have feelings, wants, needs, pleasures and fears.  Guess what?  It's okay to talk about likes and dislikes without arguing.  It is possible to share with each other and have it turn out just fine or even better.  So do it.  Be different, step outside of your own box of constant worry and let's talk.  It's okay that the sexes are different just don't forget that we are also still the same in this crazy atmosphere of space.

Cheers my friends!





Sunday, May 15, 2016

Table for 3

 
 
 
Do you ever just sit back and wonder (while drinking wine), what is the point?  I find myself doing this a lot lately.  Not just the wine drinking, but pondering the meaning of my life.  More specifically, I think about the amount of dates, relationships and natural disasters I have encountered as an adult.  Let's be honest, anything before the legal drinking age just doesn't count.  I like to think that I am wiser and more aware of the bullshit after each failure but somehow one seems to slip right by me.  Then after a series of emotions, dates, energy and sex, I remember why I should've stayed single.  The best foot forward mysteriously goes back to its original starting position and I learn that Mr. Wonderful is just Mr. Wolf in sheep's clothing.  So naturally I tell myself to stay single because the players change but the game does not. 
 
While on this trajectory of self discovery, I think I've finally realized why I go through this over and over again.  (I'm entering the deep end of the pool so strap on some water wings and fill that glass.)  At the end of the day, we all want to matter.  We want to be loved.  We want to feel supported.  Bottom line is that we just want to feel like our lives mean something.  It isn't just the wine talking, I am going somewhere with this.  Trust me. 
 
My last relationship was probably one of the biggest mistakes I have ever made in my adult dating life.  I can't stand when people say that there are no regrets, no mistakes but only lessons.  I call bullshit.  My last one was nothing but a big fat heifer of a mistake.  This lad, Mike, was younger than me and knew exactly the way into my life.   He used a hefty dose of flattery, showed a need for me, told me everything I wanted to hear and most of all, he made me laugh.  His story was that he was leaving his current girlfriend who he lived with bla bla bla so I was merely just his friend at first.   Then after he left her, we started seeing each other.  I felt like I had met a best friend and boyfriend all in one.  Not to mention he was also in the entertainment business.  So what could be wrong with this scenario?  Two words:  RED FLAGS!
 
Sweet mother, I need to grab the bottle before I go any deeper into this!   I suggest you do the same because as they say, shit is about to get real.
 
Mike rented a room from a family member since leaving his ex and while I was there one night in his living room waiting to go out to dinner, he handed me his phone to show me a photo.  A text popped up from a girl saying "Hey hey sweetheart."  Immediately I asked who she was and he said that it was one of the girls he used to hook up with online and then said he will reply letting her know he has a girlfriend now and wouldn't be appropriate to hookup/chat anymore.  She replied with a brief response that was sort of like a "Fuck you".  In my mind I thought he squashed it, no big deal.  So we moved on from it.  As things progressed, we took a trip out of town together to enjoy some snow and catch a play.  That evening in the hotel room, we had taken in too much wine and after a romp in the sack, we laid there talking.  It was more like a question and answer session.  He asked a deep question about myself then I would reciprocate.  Somehow, the conversation turned into him telling me that he had once received a blow job from another man.   (That flag is a waving)  A gay friend who is married in fact.  Needless to say, my reaction was not savory.  I was shocked and immediately asked if he was gay, bi or going to do it again.  He got very angry at my reaction and stomped around the room like a child having a tantrum.  He then got into the other bed and said that he shouldn't have said anything and expected me to be more kind and supportive about it.  Oh and the kicker is that he did this in his ex girlfriends living room while she was at work.  Needless to say, the ride home the following day was awkward.  I asked him why he did it.  He said he was hanging with "said friend" and the friend said he could see that Mike was "big" through his shorts and wanted to see for himself.  So naturally Mike showed him (why wouldn't you show off your penis to a gay friend) and then one thing lead to another and wouldn't you know it, his friend just started giving him head.  While telling me this, I could tell he was very embarrassed and I just somehow told myself that maybe it's like when you experiment in college.  He didn't go to college, so maybe that was his "moment".  Okay, conversation over and time to move on.  No no no, not so fast.  The next week he didn't call, text or have much to say if I initiated conversation.  Finally he said that he was mad that I was judgemental and acted shocked.  Somehow we moved passed it and all was well.
 
As time went on, things were going great.  We did everything together.  We shared great nights out with our friends, attended events and did acting gigs together.  I helped get him booked as well as introduced him to a lot of my contacts in the business which in turn, got him a lot more work in film.  He was going on a trip to spend a week with friends in Chicago and decided the night before he left, he wanted me to meet his mother.  BOOM!  Big moment right?  His mom was his world and he took me to meet her.  It went great.  During the evening, she was on her laptop showing me old pics of Mikey and with her Facebook open, she received a friend request from a girl who knew Mike.  His mom pipes up asking why she keeps hounding her and who is she??  Our little boy looked like a deer caught in headlights.  Bright eyed and stunted, he explained that she was an old friend and was always bothering him and to ignore her.  That wonderful female instinct kicked in telling me that there was something more to the story.  So I took a mental picture of her name and later in the evening while on the couch watching TV, I looked her up online.  I found her public page on Instagram and there were all these posts depicting love for someone and then the one posted that night was something about how loving someone who ignores you is painful or some crap like that.  That clever girl used a hashtag with his name in it.  Oh but wait, looking back at all these love quotes, his name is always used in them.  Well shit!   I felt myself turning a brilliant shade of red (sort of like Merlot) and getting so upset that I could barely breathe.  While cheater is blissfully watching some crap show about food (the usual viewing in his home) he must've caught wind of my onset of anxiety and anger as I was typing a comment on this girls latest post about "being ignored."  I simply wrote, "I'm sorry he is ignoring you but we were busy fucking."  Then I looked up from my phone and yelled out, "WHO THE HELL IS THIS???"  Remember that deer in headlights look I mentioned from earlier in the evening?  Well this time it was the deer in headlights then struck by a very large vehicle expression.  He started asking questions about how did I know her and what did I know etc...  He kept demanding to give him my phone.  I said I knew that they were sleeping together and he was disgusting and I was out.  I stormed out of his house in a rage and somewhere between the front door and my car, I threw my big full bottle of water at him.  He followed me trying to explain that she was someone he also saw while he and I first dated and she was still attached.  I knew there was a lot of garbage to that explanation and I continued to scream at him demanding he tell me the truth.  He finally admitted that they had slept together while we were together.  So I left and told him to go to hell.  While he was in Chicago, I took off to California and spent a few days at the beach.  Sand, wine and tears filled with anger.  I came home and a few days later, I received a text in the middle of the night.  Mike had written me a long apology and poem via text while he was still away.  We spoke the next day and I agreed to hear him out when he returned.  There it was, my moment of weakness.  Truth was, I missed my friend.  I missed the one who I spent nearly everyday with and enjoyed my life with so I thought it wouldn't hurt to sit and talk.  WRONG!  He suckered me right back in.  We agreed to a fresh start and to put it behind us.  Yep, I was an idiot.  I own that. 
 
Sorry, that bottle went fast!  Must pop open another... hold please.
 
Needless to say, that new start proved to be the way to go.  We got closer and seemed to be happier than ever.  Even I was sickened by how "cute" we were.  He ended up losing his full time job and couldn't stay at his uncles house anymore so I took him in.  I realized while spending our lives together under the same roof that he was always on his phone.  I mean ALWAYS.  So I did what any good spy, I mean girlfriend, would do.  I pretended to act interested in what he was constantly doing.  He showed me his Instagram and then I took the phone and looked at what sort of people he followed.  They were all bodybuilders, gym buffs and men in general.  Red Flag!  I asked if he knew these people and he said no but it was motivation to get really fit.  Wait, what is that?  Oh it's that familiar smell of feces from a bull.  This only made my suspicions to grow and so while he would shower and leave his phone unattended, I would dig into his life.  I found many texts from his blow job buddy Alan, wanting to meet and connect.  I found emails where he was responding to ads online for male escorts for a men for men only service.  I found photos of women with penises.  I also discovered his Skype account where he talks to men.  He would jerk off with them online then agree to meet up with them in person. RED FLAG!  No wait, that was more like me holding the red cape while facing a bull in an arena.   I basically discovered a life that I didn't know existed that belonged to a guy I was sharing my life with.  I stayed quiet for the day (due to shock) and then that evening on our way to dinner, I asked to stop by the park and let's sit and talk.  We did just that.  I wanted to flip out.  I wanted to blurt out my discoveries.  I wanted to kick him in the dick.  Instead, I calmly asked him if there were things going on in his life that I should know.  He said no.  I asked if he still spoke to or saw Alan.  He said that they were friends but that's it.  Okay, this was going nowhere.  We left and I was suddenly faced with shock, sadness and the dilemma of what to do and how to do it.  I couldn't keep this up anymore.  The next morning I got up early for work, got dressed and when I went to leave, he woke up and insisted on kissing me goodbye.  What he didn't know was that I was crying the entire morning.  During that afternoon I called him and he was at my home on the internet.  I asked if he was online looking for work and he said not yet.  I snapped.  Him being on the internet must've been Skype sexing, jerking off to chicks with dicks or searching for a way to make money by looking at naked men.   I told him to pack up and I was on my way home.  I arrived and we went at it.  I called him every name in the book and said that he was a homo and needed to get the hell out of my life.  That didn't go well.  He got physical and thought it was a good idea to punish me for the way I was now treating him.  There was smacking, yelling, bending me over and trying to take charge of a situation that he had lost all control of.  He left.  He took his things and walked out.  Needless to say, I was struck by that bull after all. 
 
After many nights that ended in Xanax and wine, I picked myself up and moved on.  While away for work one week, my phone kept ringing and it was his mother.  I finally picked up only to hear her yelling at me to put her son on the phone.  I laughed and asked what she was talking about.  She swore up and down that he was with me and I assured her that I was nowhere near him nor would I be.  She said he had gone missing.  She begged me to help her find him as she was worried.  So I made a few calls and thought to call the hospital closest to his house.  Sure enough, they said he had just been discharged and because of the sensitive nature, that's all they could say.  Turns out, the idiot tried to kill himself (on my birthday) and didn't succeed.  A small part of me was sad but the bigger part of me was pissed off.  I called his mother back and told her.  She flipped her lid and wanted to know if I was lying and what happened.  All she knew is I kicked him out and left him with nothing.  Of course that's what he told her!  So now I am a very unhappy camper and decide to spill it.  I told her everything.  She cried and kept screaming that her only child couldn't be gay and how she wants to be a Grandmother one day.  I had enough and wanted out of this mess so I said I was hanging up and would send her copies of texts between him and I where he admits to the abuse, the homosexual behavior and why it ended.   D O N E.  His dirt was off of my hands.  I told her to go help her son and please leave me out of it.  That was it.  Happy Birthday to me.  I went back to my hotel, got boozed up and sat in the hot tub.  I met a lovely young guy while baking in the giant tub who was a gay male prostitute and serviced his Orange County clients at that hotel.  Okay, party over and back to room I went.
 
Post birthday debacle, I spent many days and nights wondering how I could've been so stupid.  How could I be so blind and let this happen under my nose?  How could I be so happy and it turned out to be a lie?  Was he just using me to help with money, career and at the end, a place to live?  Was he that desperate to take advantage of my heart?  Was I that desperate to feel loved and happy?  One day I was sitting in the park near my house with my beloved dog who was happily chasing her Frisbee and it hit me (a revelation not the Frisbee).  I could literally feel the weight of the answer cover me like a blanket.  It wasn't any of those things.  It was me.  I liked the feeling of being needed.  I liked the joy I got out of spending my time with my best friend and lover.  I adored the simple affection like a kiss on the forehead or squeezing my hand in the car.  I loved that someone listened to me and showed interest in my life.  Overall, I was happy with feeling that I mattered.  Somehow I equated the relationship with being validated.  Truth be told, I was always laboring under the idea that he was being dishonest.  Since I found out about his exploratory tryst the year before, I was always suspicious but talked myself out of it in exchange for comfort I had and the smile I kept finding on my face. 
 
So what the fuck is my point?  What am I going on about exactly?  It is so simple.  We get into relationships and fight for them when we know they are headed straight off a cliff.  We strap ourselves into the car and ride along watching the dead end sign approach us but we don't get out.  We do it because in that car, we aren't alone.  We matter.  We feel like we found our other half, our missing piece.  It's that thing that makes us feel whole.  Now that this happened, I have sorted out that I was never needing my other half because I am not a half.  All this time spent alone has made me realize that I am whole and it isn't an unhealthy relationship that validates my life.  I have to make my own life matter.  So I go on and love those who love me, albeit the list is quite short, but the most important thing I do is learn how to continue to love myself (and wine).  I am a work in progress, hell we all are, but now that I know that a relationship won't validate my life, I am happy.  Sure it gets lonely at times and no dates to accompany me to a wedding or a movie, but I am investing in myself.  When the time is right, I will meet someone who looking for and can appreciate the woman who loves herself, confident and honest with who she is and what she deserves.  If I want flowers right now, I will buy them.  If I want to see a film at the theater, I just go.  I am simply not a half because I go alone. 
 
Okay so you might say that I have contradicted myself in saying that mistakes aren't lessons, but the truth is, Mike was a Titanic sized mistake.  I am learning more about myself, people, relationships, friends, family and what matters.  I won't attribute that to his sorry confused lying ass, no.  I take the credit for realizing that my life is merely validated by my own heart and what I give. 
 
So order the dessert, dance like a fool regardless of who is watching, explore, laugh, be honest, love and most importantly, never drink stale wine.  
 
Oh and if you thought Mr. Charming pants couldn't get worse...wrong!  Turns out he knocked up Ms. Lonely Heart of Instagram while we were together.   
 
 CHEERS loser!