It is the middle of the night. Like insomnia Hell. Too many thing rattling in my brain. If I were
to write a blog right now, and I am still not sure this will end up as a blog,
I would start by telling you that I HAVE been writing, just not here, and not
about my life. Maybe that is a problem.
I guess I am about to fix that. After
midnight is a strange creature.
I have been working on short stories and novellas. I hope to submit them, eventually, and that
portion of my creative juices have been all over the map, much like my life,
and I have been enjoying the process, for the most part, when it happens at
like normal hours. No such luck today,
but whatever.
November is National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) and I
have succeeded in registering. That
means only 10,000 words to go and I have more of the never-ending-novel
done. This is completely unrealistic,
and deliciously un-doable, but I will be attempting it anyway. Not tonight,
because the spinners are taking all my time.
So, THAT writing
process will not happen at all it I don’t get some of the things spinning in my
head and heart out on paper first, thus, this blog. So here goes, a sorta
stream of consciousness about where I am at.
I was dating a very *nice* man. Yes, I met him online. He is cute, has beautiful blue eyes (they
melt me), has a job, is buying his house, has grown children, and likes
puppies. He drinks his coffee with
cream, brings his dog breakfast leftovers, and knows how to fix anything on a
car. He is a good kisser (more about this in a second), and is a gentleman when
it comes to things like opening doors and paying the check (I tried to pick it
up, he wouldn’t let me). I met him at his house one time, and (found out) he smokes
heavily (like lighting one cigarette with the other one), his house smells like
he chain smokes, with the additional lingering smell of “medical marijuana”
(his roommate’s) mixed with stale beer (his, in bottles all over the counters
and kitchen table). I have only been to his house that once, because previous
to that one time, I had met him for dates at public locations, he didn’t smoke
in front of me (never mentioned it actually, or had it listed on his dating
profile), brushed his teeth and wore clean clothes, making the kissing at the end of the dates
very nice. During those times he smelled
like soap and laundry detergent, and coffee (we usually met for breakfast), and
that good kind of man smell that goes with nice, hard working guys. The time at his house was the most turned off
(I didn’t even kiss him goodbye, and I liked kissing him) I have been in a
really long time. It made me sad and unable to really talk to him because I
haven’t yet figured out exactly how to tell him that I liked that being near
him (yes, just the one time, the other times away from his house were fine) but now it makes me want to take a
shower. Without him. At my own house.
Immediately. I think I was in shock. It
goes with how much more I must really need to work on, because I can’t accept
it, and don’t want to even try to move forward with it. He has texted me every day since then, and I
have answered, reminding him just how much I hate text conversations, and could
he please call later that night after 9pm (kids in bed, priorities) and we can
talk then. He starts these texts (yes,
every day) with “Sorry I couldn’t call last night. Had a couple beers and fell asleep watching a
movie”. I want to tell him why I won’t be seeing him again, but not via text.
So I guess I have breakfast with him one more time. Publicly. No kissing. I know this sounds like I am a bitch, but it
would make me crazy on about 100 different levels to never be able to go to his
house (presumable for sex, eventually, which would be a turn off, sorta
defeating the whole thing, right?), and I don’t want to change him at all. I
don’t even want to try to live with it.
I know, bitch. But I have done
this already, both the expecting a guy to change AND the saying nothing about
it but living with it. I am not saying
that relationships aren’t compromises, but if something as basic as smoking and
drinking is the thing that turns your partner off, shouldn’t you just
acknowledge it and move on. Politely
(though how the hell I say “I’m sorry, can’t kiss you anymore, or come to your
house, because you kinda smell bad.” is beyond me).
I totally know that I need to be okay with this decision, letting
go and all, so read on.
There is another man
I met recently. Not online. Not in a bar, though we were drinking. The conversation was funny, interesting,
easy, flirty, and we both mingled, talked to other people, had a great time the
whole evening. I stole his Karate Kid button from the front of his shirt, and
he kissed me good night. It made me feel
tingly. I know, that sounds so teenager,
but I don’t have a better word to describe it.
I am sure he has zero interest in going out with me, and we didn’t
exchange numbers or anything, so it is kinda moot, but it reminded that I love
that feeling. The easy attraction. The laughter and no jealousy. The end of a really good evening, and the
idea that it could be that easy all the time.
I miss that.
Some of you will read this and think what a pathetic loser
that sounds like. Giving up a guy who is
interested in you because it doesn’t feel right, and feeling squishy over
someone who doesn’t know you exist in the real world. But it doesn’t sound pathetic to me. It sounds, for the first time in a long time,
as NOT desperate. That if I really
thought about it, I want someone in my life who makes me tingle without
trying. Maybe it’s not the guy with
questionable taste in 1980’s movies paraphernalia, but it is not the guy with
the pot-smoking roommate, either.
And it is not a bad thing that I want it. I want someone who meets my values, my
interests, my background, my work ethic, my desires, my past choices, my
beliefs, and my plans for the future. Is
it really too much to ask to meet someone who has not been arrested for DUI (I
never have been arrested, is it really that hard?); or who doesn’t borrow money
from his parents to pay his electricity bill (I haven’t done that in almost 30
years); or who votes (yeah, like for President) and doesn’t think you are
wasting your time when you do; or has a passport (because it is an important
document for things like, um, travel); or who has books on a shelf anywhere in
his house (books he might actually have read)? I can do all of that for myself, so why would
I want anything less from a partner? Why
would they want anything less for theirs?
I WANT the conversation and I want the lust. I want the giggles and I want the
shoulder. I don’t want someone just to
sleep with, but someone to wake up with.
I want someone who I love and trust when we aren’t sleeping together . I want a best friend who is also a
lover. A lot to ask, but why not? The other way hasn’t worked, and I’ve end up
feeling stressed about not getting enough, or frustrated by giving too
much. And since I am clearly single, and
not really that sad about it, why is picking something better than what I have
had a bad idea. The worst that could
happen is that I would still be single, duh, and make choices for myself that I
get to enjoy.
But I would watch Fast Times at Ridgemont High. Maybe while writing, since, no doubt, this
whole blog was just to kill time (and clear my head) instead working on my
novel. A little over 1400 words,
too. Just about what I would need to
write daily for NaNoWriMo to have it matter. Good job, Elise, now that you are
not spinning stuff in your head, maybe a good short story is in order. Or
sleep, whichever.
