“You’re never gonna grow up. You’re never gonna be a man. Peter Pan.”

This day is full of surprises. First of all, big shout out to CS.  Who would’ve thought that after all that,  he would be the guy friend I vent to about KJ? Second, I discovered that I’ve been in denial.  I’ve been able to talk to CS without any of the hurt surfacing. That is one of the things that proves to me what I’ve been pushing away. I’ve got feelings for KJ.  Just in time to get over him. Because he’s toxic for me. And a leopard doesn’t change his spots.  And a tiger can’t change his stripes. And Walruses still have big dicks. (Nothing to do with KJ, just a fun and random fact.)

I completely acted like I was in high school yesterday. I saw KJ flirting with a co-worker (that he claimed he fucked to another co-worker but I think that’s talking shit, she wouldn’t give him the time of day for that tho), and I lost my shit.  He also couldn’t remember that he fucked me on Monday, which a guy friend told me I need to get over, that when you’re having sex with someone almost every damn day, the days run together.  I shut him out all night at work. (CS used to tell me that shutting down was my biggest problem. Ironically, it didn’t hit me until we broke up and I’m with someone else that I realized he’s right).

KJ came in to our bar a little late and I decided to be friendly but he looked at me and said “I’m not in the mood for this bullshit Ellie.”  I bought him a beer (a good one, we ain’t talking PBR tallboys), and he complained that it was the wrong size. I bought him a shot and told him to chill and have a good time.  He told me he didn’t want to deal with me. So I did the immature thing and sought attention elsewhere.

TY is someone I’ve met a few times at our afterwork bar. Stanford graduate. Tall, smart, handsome, funny, successful. I was talking to him before KJ got there. But when KJ ignored me, I did the immature thing and went into full flirt mode.  KJ, already angry, slammed down his beer and left.  I had a pseudo hookup with TY out of anger.

I’ve regressed from partying like a college girl to playing high school games.  KJ brings out the worst in me.  He never grew up. I can see my mistakes,  I own my mistakes, and I know that this person I”m becoming isn’t me. I have to start working on myself.  And that means letting KJ go.  If only I didn’t have to see him at work. As CS told me, I knew better than to shit where I eat. (Hey, that’s kinda literal since I work in the restaurant biz.)

“We’re on the right side of rock bottom Into you, I just keep crawling You’re the best kind of bad something ‘Cause we keep on coming back for more”

Undeclared. We state this major in college when we don’t know what we want to be when we grow up. I think by a third date or hookup we should have a checklist that pretty much answers “what are we doing?” that we hand to our partner.  KJ and I decided that we are just considered “untitled”.

Untitled can be confusing. It’s that place where you’re not committed, yet you are a little bit more than just fuck buddies.  KJ and I have this: We’ve both agreed not to fuck other people (but seriously, his dick is inside me so much at this point, we don’t have energy or time to find someone else to fuck).  We will not say that we are together, because we are both flirts (actually do it in front of each other just to piss the other one off all the time. Healthy huh?). We talk about not future.  We hang out five nights out of seven (not just sex, like we eat or play pool or have drinks).  He’s always the first to say he’s sorry. At work, I get quick hugs from behind and forehead kisses.

Yet, he’s got too many demons he’s fighting for me to fall for him. As a mutual friend said, “Ellie, I think you’re good for him but I also think he’s terrible for you.”  When I have to step back and remind myself of this, he accuses me of being defensive and weird and distant.  See, my best friend died of drug use two years ago. Mentally, I examined on how I felt about KJ and wondered if I’m trying to save him because I couldn’t save her. But as my niece says “You can’t go around playing Captain Save a Ho'”

There’s no way I should be trying to fix him.  The addictions are always going to come in front of me.   But I’ve felt so broken after CS and online dating, that I like being the strong one. And the fact that each time I think I’ve had the best sex I’ve ever had in my life happens, we top it.

For example, who knew that  a three minute orgasm would be possible? I think I literally blacked out with his head between my legs last night, which happened with the car door open because we couldn’t wait to walk the five steps to his front door.  As KJ said last night, I don’t think either of us have ever experienced such chemistry with someone else. The thing is, he says I’m a distraction everywhere: during shifts we work together, when he’s playing pool and he can still see me from across the bar.

What do you do when you are truly undeclared?  When you have 9 and a Half Weeks type of sex and a Jerry Springer kind of (non) love and a When Harry Met Sally kind of friendship?

“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.

 

“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.

“Another version of me..is she perverted like me, would she go down on you in a theater”……. Oops, time for a station change….”U got it, U got it bad. When you miss a day without your friend, your whole life’s off track”

I laid in bed last night coming up with the whole new blog entry in my head. Except, today I’m writing something different than I envisioned.  Alanis Morrissette was going to be my theme song today.    Because the little demon in my head was trying her (my demon is a chick that I picture as Elizabeth Hurley in the movie Bedazzled) best to convince me that CS was out getting fucked by someone else. (He wasn’t). I got in my own head and came up with a whole post about getting played emotionally this time and how much worse it was than being used for sex.  And then I was wrong. So I had to blog about what’s in me that causes my vivid imagination to make up the worst case scenarios instead of just laying back and using a toy while thinking about the way it felt when he kissed me that afternoon.

I haven’t mentioned much about CS yet, I think for fear of jinxing it.  And this post isn’t really about him, but about me. But here’s the background: He’s 6’3, hot, and has a big dick. He is great at foreplay and keeps my mind blown and head spinning at the multiple orgasms.  We talk almost everyday, which is where Usher comes in, (actually on the phone, heller 1994!), connect like hell mentally too, and is the first guy that seems to be as crazy about me as I am about him. He’s my guy, I’m his girl. (We mostly forego the boyfriend/girlfriend label as we are at the age where we are getting asked to leave bars for getting fingered rather than the homecoming dance.) He drove to my “Cheers”, met my friends. On a side note, we are waiting to have sex. Which is terrifying. and exciting. I keep having this whole Baby from Dirty Dancing moment in my head. Because I think that’s how I might feel afterwards.

So what’s the problem? Me. I have Post Traumatic Swiping Disorder. (There’s a whole market you haven’t tapped for DSM-IV diagnoses American Psychological Association).  On the outside, I’m fairly confident. I’m pretty hot for my age. I’m fairly smart. I’ve got my shit together. But such bad dating experiences has my inner, insecure needy bitch surfacing as soon as I stepped into some feelings.   CS has had such extreme patience and understanding but I know it can be frustrating for him sometimes. Because for the first time I didn’t hear from him for hours, I’d already envisioned me on the couch crying with chocolate ice cream and watching a girly movie, instead of taking him at face value when he said he was truly busy.  How do you overcome such bad experiences and not take it out on the next?  I think the antidote is just time.  And trying to vent to my girlfriends when crazy, inside, demon bitch tries to take over.

“Just going to stand there and watch me burn. That’s alright because I like the way it hurts.”

The one guy I’ve never written about.  The only one who was not a fleeting hookup. The one that has been in my life for over a year and a half, if not exclusively, at least consistently.  He turned me into “that girl”.   He is a narcissist who literally pouts when he can’t get what he wants.  And he had me so turned around, that he made me hate me at times. Ours was the quintessential toxic “non” relationship.  Here is the story of NP (no where even near his real initials-more on that in second).

My coworker decided to swipe for me on an app I hadn’t tried yet.  I match with the hottest guy ever.  He’s tall, perfect body. From the text conversations, intelligent.  I meet him at his house and while it wasn’t the instant chemistry I now know exists , it was fun, and all I could think of is that this super hot guy was interested in MEEEEEE!  We hung out, messed around (blow job) and it was great.

We continued to talk/text and see each other once or twice a week. He was (is) super convenient, lives three miles from where I live and my office.  It was always the same thing. We’d be buddies. Mess around. Blow job.  I decided to do some research after this was going on for a couple of months. He’s a retired NFL player with a local presence. And for that little bit every week, he was mine. It was fun. Until it wasn’t.

I went for a few months without letting on that I knew who he was.   The truth came out after he threw a sock at me while getting dressed and I accused him of throwing like a girl. Apparently retired football players don’t think that’s a very funny joke.  Everything changed that day. He had a TV appearance he was filming that night for sports commentary.  He told me to watch closely when it aired, he was going to give me a nod and a smile and I was the only one in the world who’d know what it was for.

NP started traveling for his side gig after that. It was supposed to be understood that I was available for him and him only (which you can see by the former blog posts, that wasn’t going to work for me).  When he was coming back in from out of town, I was to drop everything I was doing, and be there waiting for him as soon as he got home.  If I wasn’t, he would ignore me for days, he’d send me Snapchats of songs that were meant to put me in my place. (Chris Brown-This Ain’t-for example) or pics of him at a famous R&B singers wedding to remind me who he was.  The more he did this, the more I’d resist him, just to prove to him that, to quote Pretty Woman,  I was “nobody’s beck and call girl.”  But I used him too. Anytime I had a bad dating experience, I’d call him up. To remind myself that this unattainable guy had a slight addiction to me. Major self-esteem booster.

One night I was out and refused to be waiting for him at his house (I knew the codes) when he got home.  The next day, he skull fucked me so hard I was bruised around my mouth.  As fucked up as this sounds, that moment made any future blow job for any other man fantastic. I’ve always been talented in that area but NP taught me the ways of deep throating.  It was kind of necessary as I really thought “This is the way it ends. Choking on a dick. How appropriate. And because of WHO he is, it will be all over the news too. Sorry Mom and Dad.”   But this was the night that put forth the toxic cycle him and I had.  Another time to “punish” me for not being there when I was told, he picked up his phone to text during a bad moment. All to show me I could be replaced.

It’s embarrassing to admit that this cycle went on for another nine months.  Over the summer I moved and started working an additional job. I didn’t have much time for him. He ghosted me. Blocked me on every phone number and social media account. This was a guy that I’d been seeing for over a year.  Now, I broke up with a three year actual relationship and didn’t cry. With NP I cried for two days.  He’d never cut me out of his life completely.   ANNNNNDDDDD….. then he came back.

I had grown accustomed to the fact that he was never wrong,. that everything was going to be my fault.  And I admit I went right over when he sent the “we need to talk message.”   He pretty much acknowledged that we were like a drug to each other.  We made the decision that until one of us (him) got married (engaged or relationship didn’t even count) that it would be him and me. That this would keep going on.

Fast forward about three weeks later, I’m sitting in a booth across from a guy that terrifies me emotionally. He gets me.  There’s so much chemistry around us that we almost got kicked out of a bar a few days later (more on that later).  He refuses to have sex with me because he doesn’t want to screw things up. And he wants me to be his girl. And I agree to be his girl.  The next day I get a NP message. “You busy?”  I stare at my phone for a few seconds , press down on his name, and hit “Block User”.

So, NP. The end of our game. The fourth quarter is over. The stadium lights have dimmed. I’ve walked off the field.

“…. just be nice to the gentlemen Fancy… they’ll be nice to you”

Sorry for the brief delay and hope I didn’t lose any readers!  It was a tough week and and I had to find my Ellie-spiration again. (I can thank Marley for that).   Today “swiping up” is on my mind. The guys you swipe on that may be a little out of your league. The hot, fit, gym rat that you say, why not? You get the match and then are terrified he’ll actually want to meet you and realize you have a pronounced FUPA. Actually, that he’ll realize you can’t even see your own FUPA sometimes because you’re bloated from the night before alcohol.   That’s physically swiping up. (live at home guy was actually best body I’ve ever seen. Just wondering if he has to worry about his mom seeing it as he walks down the hall. ew).

I’m now on a new way of swiping up. I actually had to think  this if I should include two songs in this post… (I ain’t sayin’ she’s a golddigger…….).  I was always told by my mom that’s its just as easy to fall in love with a rich man as it is a poor one.  Cheers mom, I’m listening.  While I”m not charming a king, a congressman, and an occasional aristocrat,  my chat box is full with an attorney, a surgeon, and a financial advisor.  And I support myself thank you very much, but what’s wrong with being a little spoiled every once in awhile? And basing my feelings on just attraction is not getting me very far at all.   Plus, these guys swiped on “me”. Meaning, I tried an experiment where I put all new profile pics not necessarily sexy as hell.

In a small way, I feel guilty for being superficial.  But it’s fun to play on the other side for a bit.

Always–Ellie