“Sweet, sweet heart of mine I’m gonna break again a million times. Is this true or gone. Have you turned to stone?”

Do you ever want to do holiday analogies? Like Santa Claus is to the Grinch as Cupid is to ___________.  Like the guy who would go around and steal all the jewelry out of boxes before a guy presents it at an overpriced cheesy dinner. Okay, I’m bitter. Had a date last night right in the area where CS and I hung out. The bar was actually at the restaurant directly behind where we had our first date. Then on the way home I had to pass the Mexican restaurant we would go to, and the hotel we fucked in, and the tavern where he asked me to be his girl.  That tavern is what this week’s blog post is on. Or rather the guy who runs the tavern.

DR and I were a Tinder match a few months ago.  He and I had a lot in common, being that we were both in the restaurant business. I failed, however, at finding out exactly which restaurant.  We had a decent date, went back to his place, listened to music, where I introduced him to my favorite non-mainstream band, Whiskey Myers.  I was super attracted to him. Until we had sex. Great kisser. Great dick. Selfish in bed.  We parted ways.

Fast forward about three or so weeks. My buddy and I went to the bar across the street from our restaurant, and there he is, sitting at the bar with his can of PBR.  We strike up a conversation, do shots of Jack Daniels ,which results in me blowing him in the parking lot after a hot make-out session.  We saw him again the week after, where he acted as if I didn’t exist. Didn’t say hello or even look my way.  Saw him again the week after, and he came over  to start talking to me, but was a total dick. Such a dick that my buddy was determined to let the air out of his tires.

Less than two weeks later I was at the tavern mentioned above. I was happy. Sitting across from the guy that was proving (I was wrong but didn’t know that at the time) to me that what DR said to me while he was being a dick was completely untrue. See DR told me that  I was the girl guys fuck but never care to date.  But at that tavern booth I was someone’s girl, and when my favorite band, Whiskey Myers, came on in the mix with all the popular music, I took it as a good sign.  Until I saw the manager going around to every table in our section but ours.  Even CS made the comment that it must be because we looked so cozy. But I knew better. It was DR.  My mistake was that I never told CS, and towards the end of our relationship, when we went there again at his suggestion, I felt like it was too late to bring it up.  I did mention to him that night that I knew the manager from my bar.

Two nights ago my co-workers and I went out to this bar and got a little trashed.  My friend turns to me and says “Look at this sexy motherfucker walking in. He’s exactly your type.”  I turned around and saw DR walking in and giving me that crooked smile. I told my girlfriend “He’s exactly my type. He’s hot and a douchebag with a beard. I’ve already had him.”  He began talking to me and bought me a beer and a shot. I thanked him, and walked back over to my friends. He came right over to my section with my friends and hung out with me the rest of the night.  He mentioned that he’d forgotten that how before we hooked up, he actually enjoyed hanging out with me and talking to me.  We caught up on things for about two hours. I asked him why he said what he did, he told me he was just making a reference to Tinder chicks in general. He told me that he’d seen me both times in his restaurant with CS, but he didn’t want to make things awkward.  He also told me that he knew we’d break up soon due to the change in our demeanors from the first time he saw us there to the last.

End of the night, he pays and asks should we leave together. I told him it was late. We ended up getting in my car, where he kissed me and asked “what now?”  When I asked what he meant, he said “well, you didn’t want to go home with me so I figured it’d be a blow job in the car.” Ahhhh….. there’s the douchebag back again.  I told him that I wasn’t giving out free blow jobs without getting anything in return. I rode him until I came twice (good thing I know what I”m doing on top because he’s still selfish),. He asked would he see me again next week. I left it at maybe.

I went home and sobbed. And messaged my guy friend (interesting fact, he’s the guy I matched with working on his Ph.D that I’d already met at my usual bar in my prior blog post. We’ve become bffs.), who told me to not cry about it, look at it like I used him. I felt so empty. Before I had sex that meant something, I was good at just using sex as a fun activity. Now I can’t.   I got off with DR, and it was intense, but at the end of the day, it comes down to I fucked a guy who told basically told me prior that I was only good for one thing.  Is the whole double standard thing still in play? Or is the best way to get  over someone not really to get under (or on top) of someone else?

I wanna be the Valentine’s Day Grinch. He had a heart ten times too small. I want one that turns to stone.

 

“I could have another you in a minute. Matter of fact, he’ll be here in a minute, baby, You must not know about me, you must not know about me. I can have another you by tomorrow. So don’t you ever for a second get to thinking you’re irreplaceable”

When I was twenty-one I had my appendix out. My surgeon was not that great and he left me a few abdominal scars. Every once in awhile, these scars will still be uncomfortable.  Not painful, just annoying. I think that’s the way it is with broken hearts. In the beginning, as soon as your heart starts to heal, you feel the pain like it is ripping apart. With time, you no longer feel like you’re going to split right open and cry,  but something will happen and you feel the tug at the scar once again.

CS gave me my closure call a little over a week ago. We had a civil conversation, decided to remain in contact and see what happens, i.e. if we could develop a friendship.  He apologized, which I appreciated.  He also said he didn’t think we’d ever see each other again.  Our main communication since we’ve broken up had been through Snapchat. I blocked him a few days ago because every time I see his name, it hits me in the gut that I was again passed over for someone else.

The same day I blocked him, I decided to dive head first back into dating again.  (It’s been harder for me to find a date this time than it was previously. My heart was not in it. Fear of rejection).  My first date was a guy named RS. We chatted all day and discovered he worked right down the road from my restaurant. He came in at the end of my shift. Now, this is how I know I wasn’t ready to do this. I’m a very girly-girl. I love makeup, hair, clothes, and shoes. I met this guy in my t-shirt and jeans and those god awful non-slip shoes.  He was pretty. All my co-workers could not stop staring at him.  But I’m not attracted to “pretty boys”.  We had a few drinks. Made out in the car for a few minutes. He texted me when he got home, I never texted back. (Is this considered ghosting? After one date?) My work friends were in shock. But again, I’m a firm believer in chemistry.

I did something I never do. I matched with a guy who I could barely see on a pic, but loved his profile.  We chatted for a bit on a messenger app. He told me that he was from the next state over but here about once a month working on his Ph.D. He then told me he was married but was just looking for friends to hang out with, nothing sexual necessarily, just friends. I told him I’d have to think on that one. He then continued to hound me to the point where I had to block him on the dating app and the messenger site. Fast forward two days later to Friday. I am at my usual bar. A guy comes over and starts talking to me. A really, really cute guy who’s just my type.  We talk and I introduce myself , to which he replies we’ve met once a month since October and I’ve introduced myself to him every time.  Now, I’m a bit of a drinker but I think I’d remember meeting someone four times.   TM proceeds to tell me how he comes to this bar once a month. When he’s in town. From the next state over where he lives.  Because he’s working on his Ph.D.   Fuck.  This can’t be a coincidence.  So I unblock the dude on the messenger app and send a message and looked across the bar, and saw him check his phone immediately after I sent the message.  I went back up to him and said “soooo…..”, to which he responded “I’ve got a date coming here. Please don’t tell her I’m married.”  Uh, that’s on you homeboy. Come to find out, he met Tandy in October, so it’s possible I could have met him then. I don’t think he was stalking me to my bar. I do, however, believe that he knew it was me when we matched.  He actually had a bit to drink and turned out to be a dick, who tried to convince me to do a threesome with his date. To which I declined.

And last night. The story of how my being spontaneous turned out to be reckless. And I was actually scared.  I matched with YR Saturday morning. We had no conversation all day beyond agreeing to meet for a drink. I’ve never met someone without any getting to know them at all. But fun is what I needed. To be wild.  We met at the usual bar. He is 6’6 and damn good looking. I kept getting a feeling that he was a shady character. He’d spent the last three months on vacation in a foreign country, and did not work.  And drove a brand new luxury car. But I was determined to be wild.  He’d had a little bit to drink when I got there, and told me he had very low tolerance for alcohol.  We did a couple of Cafe Patron shots mixed with Baileys (great shot, it’s called a Baby Guinness).  When I was on my second drink, he pulled me near him and said “Let’s get out of here and go fuck”, to which I agreed, on the contingency we use a condom.  We ended up parking in front of his house and hooking up in the back of my car with third row seating folded down. (I don’t know why I’ve never done this, it’s actually as much room as a bed.)  If I thought NFL player skull fucked me, it was nothing compared to YR.  CS once told me he’d had girls “tap out” before because he’s so big.  I am grateful for him right now giving me that idea, because I had to tap out. Close to ten inches down my throat and he refused to let me breathe.  And it still didn’t work.  He finally yanked me up by my hair, and asked “are you ready to fuck me now slut?”  He grabbed the condom and pulled me on top. After riding him for a few minutes, he turned me around to fuck me from behind. It lasted all of about three minutes.  I had a surprise after when I stood up to put my pants on. He’d pulled the condom off, and came inside me. Without my permission.  FUUUCCCKKK….. STD testing here I come next week.  He then proceeded to almost throw up in my car.   He got out the car, and told me he wanted to see me again the next day. I told him I just wanted to go home.  This dude could be the poster child for the guy you’re warned against on online dating. (He also called me twice this morning. I blocked).

Finally, there’s LM.  He comes off so non-douche bag. He’s also on the rebound. We’ve chatted for three days trying to get our schedules together. We’ve talked about everything under the sun. Sent pics of our kids to each other. It really scares me to see myself opening up again so fast. I’ve blocked my potential emotions out but who knows when we finally meet this week? He can definitely sense that I’m starting to back off from him. Spacing out our texts more and more. Am I ready?  I guess it’s just a leap of faith.

It’s been a fun week. Or at least an interesting one.

“It’s different for girls, when their hearts get broke. They can’t tape it back together, with a whiskey and coke “

Post break up day 2: I miss him. And I hate myself for that. He was the one person besides those I live with that I talked to or at least communicated with for three months straight. Not a day went by without something. I feel pathetic to still be obsessing over the question of why wasn’t I enough? So I send multiple texts to Tandy every time I feel the urge to text him. And she reminds me why I shouldn’t.

So this post is about the song. It truly is different for girls when their hearts get broke. I have two date potentials from my past , and one super cute guy seven years my junior. First is BJ. BJ I actually truly dated off and on for about nine months. Him and I had great potential. The chemistry was strong , it was the lasting type of chemistry though. The comfortable, familiar kind. Not the all consuming chemistry that burns you up on the inside that I had with CS. In other words, not the kind that gets you addicted , rather the kind that makes you feel safe. He’d cook for me. We’d watch football together. Sex was great. One time I even showed up at his door in nothing but football socks, a thong, his favorite NFL team jersey, and an overcoat.The timing was just always off with BJ and me. And the fact that at the time I had a huge Ambien addiction, and he refused to deal with it as he was a recovering Xanax addict. Upon finding out I’m on the market again, he jumped right on it. He wanted to see me last night, but I couldn’t, and he’s been pressuring me ever since to give him a day.

Next is young cop. He’s young, hot, and I’d had a really good time with him previously. I rematched with him and we began to talk. He asked me to dinner before his shift last night but I had to decline. Tandy even said “wtf is wrong with you? Look at him Ellie”

I matched with MS yesterday. He’s a bit younger. Also super cute. Trying to flirt but my flirtation button that I’ve possessed since I was a toddler seems to have broken.

“A guy goes how with his friends and he might hook up” But I can’t . And I want nothing more than to do that . Again, I don’t think it’s him that’s holding me back but just the fact I can’t get over the feeling of being duped. And I don’t have the closure I seek and will never get. So my question remains , do I just shave and wax and just go fuck MS? See if the old adage is true that the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else? The last three months were pretend to him, how do I get there?

PS: does anyone know where I can just purchase one of those neuralyzer thingies they had in Men in Black? Just erase all memories.

“Wherever you are honey, I’ll Pray For You”

Breakup-Day 2. Once the hurt starts to subside, you start to see things more realistically.  I’ve found all the little things I missed.  On our last date, he disappeared a lot. It’s obvious now that he was texting someone else.  (I may have called him out on this in a codeine haze last night.) This was the same thing CS did with me.  Yet, still proceeded to fuck me on the hood of his car and tell me how we were going to spend the night together the next week. And sing the line from his favorite song in my ear “I can’t let you go.”

Seeing things in hindsight eases me missing him by almost 100 percent. Sometimes anger is the stage to be in.  As a female, we want closure, and answers we are never going to get.  I’ll never get the apology I want, he will never see fault. I’ll never get the answer of why he kept the ruse going.  Worst of all, I won’t know why he chose to come to my bar for our last date, knowing he was ending things. It’s just cruel.

So back on Tinder. Sure I’m on the rebound and it’s probably not a good idea to jump right back in, but there’d be no blog or broken heart if I made good choices. So far the most promising is a cop.  My heart isn’t in it because I’m scared of everything currently, but I’m going to try.

I’ve been listening to this song all day. I’d never wish major harm on CS but a flower pot falling on his head is fun to imagine.

“You put on quite a show, really had me going…… but it’s over now, go ahead and take a bow”

You’re relaxing in the bath trying to ease the body aches that has come from running a high fever and wracking coughs from spending your entire Christmas holiday from a bad bout of pneumonia. The phone rings and you see your guy’s name pop up  and you smile. You answer, because that voice, is the one that got you every time. Then you hear the words ” I don’t think we should see each other anymore.” And he gives you the bullshit excuses, which may have a little validity but in reality, you see through it. Fast forward until the next morning and you have to ask the fateful question “Is there someone else?”, and you get the reply that you knew was coming but it hits you like a dagger “there is.” So you do a vodka shot at 10 AM. And then another.

Did we fight? Yes, too much.  I thought I could fall. In reality, I fell for the words. The fact that he wanted to wait to have sex so I couldn’t say it was just another Tinder hookup.  The fact that he asked me to be his girl on our second date. The fact that he wanted to see pictures of the kids and meet my friends. The fact that I opened up more than I ever had anyone.  He reached me.  Hit me at an area of vulnerability from being used so much.  When it’s too good to be true, it often is.

I think he thought it was real for a time. Until the newness wore off. We were together a short time but the amount of intimacy between us made it a lot longer. Now I’m not necessarily broken hearted but feeling used and rejected while he’s not thinking about me due to upgrading to Ellie 2.0.  And I wonder how long I’ve been a fool, waiting for a text back when he’s been with her.

CS told me he wanted a break because he wasn’t sure he never wanted to see me again. Which puts me at the mercy of him. Yet again. Because what is broken in me that he sees that he thinks I can be on a break with him, waiting around to decide if he likes this other girl better? Luckily, I can look at the narcissistic traits now. How he bragged to my friends about his great credit score and money. Or most recently what a big dick he has. He likes the attention. And he had me to give it to him. And I fell for it.   Because my self-esteem was that damaged.

Now it’s moving on to not waiting for the every morning phone call.  To not waiting on the pics saying “you’re my girl.”  To accepting that the huge hug you liked being wrapped up in came from the guy who was the coldest one yet. Being used emotionally is so much worse than physically.  And he got off on that. I wish I could take back what I’ve shared. Because with all previous Tinder hookups, I’ve gotten good stories and never actually had true regrets.

CS would see this post and say “I was right, she was in too deep.”, when really that’s not what it is. You don’t have to be in deep with someone for rejection to hurt.   So no CS, I can cry not because I was in love with you (fuck, I don’t even know you), but because the happiness you gave me in the moment is gone. And for a brief time, I thought someone looked at me as someone they’d never get upgrade-itis for. I felt special.  And you proved that I wasn’t.   So as Rihanna said, I’d say to you CS “the award for the best lines go to you.”

So here it is, Ellie’s first heartbreak post.

You used to call me on my cell phone…….

Yes,  I am being unoriginal. The inevitable online dating blogger post on ghosting.  Obviously it’s an issue.  Such an issue that I think I’m going to do a starving children type commercial to aid in treatment.  “For less than what you pay for a cup of coffee, you can help a man get treatment for this terrible affliction affecting women’s egos everywhere.”  On a side note, did you know that ghosting is now a term in the actual fucking dictionary? Look it up. I’ll wait.

You’re welcome, you now know more useless information than you did two minutes ago.

Earlier in the summer, Lorna and I did extensive research to look for any excuse why we weren’t getting a call back.  Many online sites suggested to take a step back and determine if you were really getting ghosted.  Most sites give the reason that you probably are not because he’s too busy (most common) or he’s stranded in Antarctica without a cell signal (ok, I made that one up). Reality is, if he wants to talk to you, he will.  (You better put a note in a backpack and put it on a penguin that you’re thinking about me from another continent).

At what point is it considered ghosting? When someone simply stops chatting with you? After you’ve had sex?  After a date? I have three examples of my worst ghosting.

  1. T was a little strange.  I met him one night in a popular area in the city. He lived in the area, I drove. We went to dinner. It was pleasant enough, certainly not really sparks flying but it was okay.   Dinner ended and he asked was I ready to get out of there and hit another bar for a drink. I agreed and went to use the restroom. I texted Lorna and Marley that I was having a good time and things were good. Imagine my embarrassment to have to call Marley not ten minutes later to tell her he’d paid the bill and disappeared.  I cried, again not because I wanted him but rejection sucks. The woman part of me imagined him walking out of the restaurant and getting sucked up by a UFO.
  2. J seemed different. We had great conversation by chatting. He called me on lunch and we chatted for an hour. We clicked and agreed to meet for a drink after work that day. I scrambled around in my car to find something to wear (yes, I have that kind of shit in my car. If cleanliness is next to godliness then my car is the portal to hell.) Our drink went well. He walked me to the car, kissed me not once but twice.  Tongue and everything. Told me he needed to stop or he wouldn’t  want to. Again texted Lorna immediately to tell her it went well. Looked down on my phone not five minutes later and I was unmatched on the dating app and Snapchat. WTF happened?  I know! His phone probably got stolen on the way to his car from mine and this evil person went and unmatched every cute girl he could find on J’s phone. Yep, that’s it. So if I run into him in a bar, I probably really shouldn’t pour a beer in his lap. (Definitely a Natural Light but not an IPA. Not into that much alcohol abuse.)
  3. R. What can I say about R? We were involved in pretty much an online relationship for almost a month. He told me tales from his terrible childhood. How his cereal came out of bags instead of boxes. I opened up to him about my online dating woes and how I often let myself feel like a piece of ass. There were warning signals with R flashing. One being when he asked me “does size matter”? (Lorna and I decided I should sleep with him just to find out what he meant by that. ) He was actually a little possessive and “broke up” with me for a few days.  Until one day, he asked me to meet him at a hotel and gave me a room number. It was hot. Quick but hot.  We even cuddled after (Ew). Never heard from him again.

By the way, these last two are what prompted me to ask RG if I was a good kisser.

Maybe the reason they don’t want to see us again is us. We got too drunk. Talked too much. Sometimes it is situations out of our control we will never have the answer to. No matter what (well, unless you find out that they are a serial killer) no explanation vanishing is not okay. Give us a reason. It may hurt that you have a weird eyebrow fetish and ours are drawn in a little too dark but that’s okay, tell us. We move on.

Same goes for the fade out, the one where they slowly stop talking to you. Generally this means that they haven’t decided about you but still need you in their pocket for the nights that they need a booty call because another chick stood them up to save their masculinity. (Ok, us women do that too. As Marley says–gotta have dm, or dude mentality).

Now that I am writing this, I need to listen to myself. I gotta get rid of GK Ultra. He called me FIVE times yesterday. And then asked how my mom was doing.

Always–Ellie

“My outsides look cool, my insides are blue.”

I matched with a guy tonight who has on his profile “only into way above average looking woman… and that it’s not going to work if you can’t pull off a bikini bathing suit convincingly.”  He and I engaged in a lively conversation. I told him my favorite expression was “don’t trip, we all ugly to somebody” to which he replied “doesn’t matter how hot she looks, there’s someone out there who’s sick of her shit.”

An hour into chatting once, I had a guy ask me if I gave good head. I told him I think so but why? This Prince Charming responded “Because you’re not pretty enough to fuck but I will let you suck my dick.” Wow. Sting. Again, tapped into my insecurities as a woman.  Dude had never met me yet was already judging me as a butterface  (see http://www.urbandictionary.com n. A girl who is hot, except for her (but her, butter) face.)

The concept of the cards we swipe left and right on comes down to window shopping for humans. Being judged on pure physical traits. While women can chat for a guy for awhile and overlook the slight beer belly, men cannot seem to do so. All that deep intellectual conversation and laughing seems to not exist if he finds one thing wrong. RG made the statement to me once that you date, and seem to more often than not get passed over for the next puppy in the window yelling “pick me! Pick me!”

TLC sings “at the end of the day, I have myself to blame. I’m just trippin'”  I’m not to blame that one jackass says a remark to make me think I’m not pretty enough.  I am however to blame on how it makes me feel inside.  And the best thing I can take from that is to not make anyone else feel that way.

Always–Ellie