Sunday, September 5, 2010

Shades of gray

New Year's was a long time ago.  We have dabbled with being broken up, we have dabbled with being a couple, neither is perfect, but we tend to enjoy life a little more together than apart.  I suppose, that has to be enough for now.  He is still married, I still want more.  Things aren't so black and white.

Monday, January 18, 2010

n WHY e

It was NYE and I was doing battle with myself. My shame and my stomach were against me. I had spoken with my friend, but nothing was really resolved? I decided to resolve it myself. We were friends, nothing more. I could be an adult and pretend that the night before hadn’t happened right? Crap, I don’t think I had grown up that much in a day. Stupid holiday blues. Now I had to decide how I was going to spend my NYE.

My original plan was to spend it with my fabulous single gal pal hitting up the town, unfortunately, she was called back home to MI for a family emergency. So, now I had two choices, do I stay at home and go to sleep early having nursed my hangover, or to I go to the bar of shame. (While everyone reading this, and even as I write this, I SCREAM… no, don’t go to the bar. It’s like in a horror film when the lovely blonde opens the creaky bedroom door alone… insert scream here!!)

I put my party outfit on, and headed out for NYE. I spotted my friend and we made friendly eye contact, nothing more. I knew I still was unclear about our situation, I was confused, but I was going to keep it simple. There was absolutely no chance in hell of me getting drunk that night as I had just gotten over my hangover about 7 minutes before we had left for the bar, so I knew that I would at least have my sensibilities about me.

Midnight came and I sat with my roommate who was chatting up a gaggle of gentleman. She got a smack on the lips from one of them and I sat there content that I could handle the smell of beer without wanting to throw up. About five minutes later, my friend walked over and gave me a very chasted kiss on the lips wishing me a happy new year. Was my swoon noticeable? I sure hope not. He left to hang out with his friends, at his bar and I sat enjoying the atmosphere.

When the bar closed, people began filing out. My friend stopped me at the door and asked me if I wanted to hang out with him and his friends. It seemed very innocent, just friends. I could handle that, and we did just that. We hung out, all night. The group of us listened to music, we chatted, we laughed, sometimes we even danced. With each morning hour that passed, the group thinned. At 5 am there was only four of us left, a married couple and my friend and I. He and I at some point between 4 and 5am had moved closer to each other so just our sides were occasionally brushing up against each other. Between 5 am and 6 am, he had his arm around me, and was innocently kissing me on the lips every once in a while.

I looked up at him, while he had his arm around me, and told him that I wasn’t just using him for sex, as he had jokingly said earlier in the evening. He looked down at me with the most sincere eyes and said, “I know, after what you said last night, I know.”

Ummmmmm… What the hell did I say the night before. Once I had him in my bedroom last night, all memories ceased. (this was not inner monologue, I actually said that outloud.) He looked at me and seriously thought I was kidding. He asked me if I truly didn’t remember. I didn’t. He paused, and told me that I had told him that I loved him…

Huh!?! Ummm, were my ears burning, had I heard that correctly? Could my drunk self had known something that I didn’t know? Could my drunk self have betrayed my sober self so badly. Holy crap, was I the crazy drunk girl who told guys that she loved them?  I reacted poorly. I got angry. Not at him, but at me. I then asked, and what did you do then? He leaned in, close to my ear, and said, “I don’t know where we go from here and its taken me a while to get here, but I do know that I love you,” He continued, “I will always have a place in my heart for you.”

He was telling me that he loved me, but somehow it was coming out in the past tense. This was too much. WTF? I was angry. I was angry at myself for loosing control the night before, I was angry at myself for loosing control with him, and lastly I was angry at myself for getting caught up in this mess.

His friends finally left, and I was ready to leave myself. I was running on practically 24 hours without sleep and I had done battles with some pretty big demons that day. I was exhausted, and pissed off. I couldn’t process this. As we walked out to the car, he stopped me, and asked me what was wrong. Was he kidding, what was wrong?!?!?!  My inability to filter came into play and I just started babbling about how pissed off I was at myself. He asked me if I wanted to talk about all of this, I said yes, but not then, we drove to his place and went to sleep. I wish I had dreamt the past two days.

Sunday, January 17, 2010

Down the Rabbit Hole

As far as friends go, this guy was turning out to be a pretty good one. He was always a good bar companion, he gave me great Christmas gifts, and was witty enough to keep me entertained. This was a strange gray area to navigate. I found myself at the bar on the eve of NYE. I had invited a couple of my friends from grad school to grab dinner with me. I had a bout with the holiday blues that day, and I needed a flirt fix. During our dinner my ‘buddy’ sat at the bar with some of his friends. I spent my dinner sporadically flirting with him, intentionally drawing him over to the table and flirting more.

Dinner ended and my friends left, but I had no intention of leaving. I needed that fix. One could compare my need to that of a drug addict. I knew that I would I would regret my decisions later, but oh how good it felt at the time. I continued to drink and throw all caution and care into the wind. It was like I was falling down the rabbit hole. Once I fell, the world just became a blurry world of drunk. I was functioning on my most primal levels.

Flirting soon became kissing, then an invitation back to my place was extended and accepted. I knew what I was doing, but the details were gone. Once I was in my place with him, a familiar situation, all memories disappeared.

I woke up with a start the next morning. I had to be at a funeral. A couple of days prior there was a death in my extended family. Crap. The headache I was feeling was tremendous. I laid awake looking at my friend. My stirring woke him up and we both just looked at each other. I suppose had I not been I such a hurry to kick him out of my bed to get ready for this funeral, it could have been more awkward. But, I didn’t have time for awkward. I had to get my ass in gear.

On the way to the funeral, I discovered that I was probably still a little drunk. I will admit that I was not very proud of myself at that moment in time, but again, I didn’t have time to condemn myself. Inside the church, I had to pull myself together and greet my parents and friends. My best friend and her boyfriend immediately called me out, telling me that I was exuding the smell of liquor. Great!!

The funeral began and so did the pounding in my head. Waves of naseau came and went. There was a battle between my hangover and my shameover for my stomach. Both, made me want to puke. Neither would go away. After the funeral, I quickly escaped the afternoon obligations. I needed McDonald’s fountain diet coke more than I had needed anything before in my life. After housing a 6 piece mcnugget and a large diet coke, I was feeling more like a human. I decided to man up and call my friend/lover/what?

Of course, he didn’t answer. I left him a painfully awkward message, I needed to figure out what the hell he was thinking. I needed us to be ok. Were we back together? Does sleeping with him mean that we were more than just friends? I had never had a casual relationship, and this was more than my simple brain could handle.

He called me back. I answered and I asked if we were ok. He replied of course. I never came right out and asked him what we were, but I left it at we were ok?? What?!?!

Saturday, January 16, 2010


I had to put the pub crawl behind me. It was a mistake and we were just going to be friends. This was going to be a challenge. I was dealing with a serious case of the holiday blues. The past couple of months had kicked my ass. Professionally, work was kicking my ass, personally I couldn’t pick myself up. I looked to my friends for help and all I could see was their diamond engagement rings or their cherub cheeked babies. I RSVP’d to my own pity party.

On the eve of Christmas Eve I stopped by the bar. I just wanted to chat with my ‘friend.’ During our adorable repartee, my friend mentioned in passing the he had Christmas gift for me. It caught me by surprise, and I tried to ignore it. After the third time that it was brought up, I knew that he wanted me to take notice. Crap, now I had to get him a gift. Shoot. What the hell was I supposed to get for my friend who had put thought into a Christmas gift for me? It was Christmas eve…. What the hell was I going to get. I was pissed, why did he have to buy me something?

Christmas Eve arrived and I was supposed to be at my parent’s house preparing for the holiday. I couldn’t spend time worried about what to buy this guy. I stopped at Walgreens to purchase tights, because that’s where I shop, and I thought, why not shop here for a gift? I took less than a minute to decide. On Thanksgiving, when my friend and I were seeing each other, he mentioned how little he liked Christmas. He said that he often felt that he put a great deal of thought into gifts for the people he cared about and in return he received stupid stuff that he didn’t need like socks and gift cards. How perfect, I purchased socks and a gift card! Christmas came and went, and I had wrapped my gift, not wanting to make the first move. This was his game, he had purchased me a gift first. He could text me to give me his present, I wasn’t going to call him. I didn’t have to wait long, his text came a couple of days after Christmas.

I met him at his bar, and he gave me his gift. Now, I’ll admit that I have never been a very good recipient of gifts. I unfortunately I've never had a poker face, I tend to show every thought or feeling that I have on my face, and often afterward those thoughts come out in words. Crap… now I was in the middle of a complicated situation and I had to open/give a gift.

I tore into the wrapping paper and opened up a lovely purple clutch. Oh my goodness, it was adorable. I was uncomfortable, how do I thank him appropriately, this was so weird. I awkwardly shoved my gift at him. He didn’t seem to be expecting a gift judging by his expression of surprise. I started to feel badly, I had bought him a snarky gift. I tried to explain my gift to him as he opened it, and he started laughing. He remembered that conversation and thought I was adorable, which was undeniable. He got it, he gave me a huge hug and definitely appreciated my snarkiness.

I sat and thought to myself, why had I ended things with him again? He understood me, he thought I was funny, and he knew things that I liked. Gosh, deep down inside, I knew that he was bad for me. The holiday blues were so thick that it was getting hard to remember why he was bad for me.

Saturday, January 2, 2010

Santa Baby!

The pubcrawl was a Santa Suit pub crawl. My dumpee and I had been exchanging text messages for the past couple of days and things were weird. We were still friends, but friends who flirted? I knew what would happen on this pub crawl. I knew the minute I hopped on the bus and shot gunned my first beer. At bar one, we flirted casually. In bar three we flirted a bit more openly. By bar 6 he was grabbing my ass and at bar 7 we were kissing in the basement. We exchanged blurry conversation and made out some more.

When we got back to his bar we were flirting more and more. He took me down to the basement where we continued our unbelievable makeout. It felt so wrong, but so good. I was kinda drunk, but I knew what I was doing. As the night came to an end, he grabbed a cab, which seemed like the best idea for the both of us.

I woke up with the most incredible shameover. I felt terrible. I had dumped this guy and knowingly gone on this pub crawl to make out with him. Crap… so I sent him the apology text message. And the dance of confusion continued. We exchanged text messages where he told me sweet adorable things such as he liked kissing me, and everything was wonderful. Oh crap. What does that mean?

And Now He Pays Attention...

So I broke up with him on Sunday, and Wednesday I went to dinner at his bar. I wasn’t sure how to act when we were seeing each other I was definitely unsure how to act when were just supposed to be “friends.” I sat uncomfortably at a table trying to figure out what I would say, would I smile, would I be coy? This really sucked. I sat with my friend and ordered dinner. Let the game of confusion begin.

After ordering dinner, he spotted me, we exchanged smiles. When our food arrived he sat next to me and we chatted for a couple of minutes. When our second round of beers came, he came back. He started to try to convince me to go on a pub crawl that coming weekend. I knew that would end badly, but for some reason it felt soo good.

Before he left, he gave me a huge hug, he followed it up with a text saying that he was glad to see me. The next day he texted me again. Around noon, he called me. Had I entered some sort of alternative universe? WTF? I had ended things with the guy because he wouldn’t pay attention to me and now I was getting text messages and phone calls. This totally sucked. The shameful desire for the most unavailable guy came crawling back (as well as the best sex of my life). The desire to sit and shoot the shit came falling over me. I just wanted to laugh with him, flirt with him. I just wanted it all, and badly!

I spent the rest of the week convincing myself that I wouldn’t go on this pub crawl, that it was a bad idea, but I knew I was kidding myself. I knew that I would be right on that bus, and I knew that I would flirt with him. And crawl I did.


I had called him one Sunday morning and left him a message that I needed to talk. Everyone knows what that code means. He called me an untimely amount of time later, just as I was picking up my gal pal. Obviously, I couldn’t talk, but I told him thatit was important. I'm sure that he knew what that meant and told me that he would call me at 7pm. I spent the day planning on how I was going to break up with him. This was not something I was looking forward to. I really liked the guy.  This sucked.  Why couldn't he just be a good non-boyfriend?

As I was talking myself out of it, 7pm rolled around, and then 7:30, 7:45, 8:00pm. More time rolled by and my desire to break up came flooding back. At 9pm I finally got a call. I was pissed. I drove over to his house prepared and ready to break it off.

He met me at my car and I couldn’t look at him. We sat down and I just let it all spill out. I told him that I wanted more. I told him that I couldn’t just be sex. It was a difficult breakup because we still really liked each other. (Not to mention what amazing sex I was passing on)  After an hour, and several tears, on my end, we hugged and he asked me if we could still be friends. I said yes, and somewhere deep inside I hoped that it meant we would get back together. Somewhere deep down, I hoped that he would look deep in my eyes and say that I was the gal for him, that he would be a fabulous boyfriend and we would have a great relationship and “Happily Ever After…”

I drove home happy that I had ended it, disappointed that the guy I liked didn’t want me back, sad that I was alone, and hopeful that someday I would find the love of my life.

Casual + ME = ??

So, could I deal with a man who was going through a divorce? Well, he made me feel good, and he liked me. It had been a really long time since someone had liked me. Could I handle this? Ehhh… it felt so good. It was so wrong, this was so wrong, he wasn’t right for me. He couldn’t be my night in shining armor, but it felt so good. He was older, he had been married, and I liked the guy?

We started dating. I set up some boundaries, like we couldn’t get incredibly serious. I didn’t want to be called his girlfriend, and I didn’t to be serious, I didn’t want to fall in love with him. I realized I would probably be his rebound girl, but I was sure going to have fun while filling that role, right?

His bar was fabulous. It was where we would sit in the corner and exchange sarcastic comments about his customers and workers. We would share pints and wit and at the end of the night we would share the most amazing kisses. One night, not long into the relationship, while sharing wit and pints, I forgot just how many pints I had shared. Reality has it, that apparently, after several drinks, I get frisky. This night we didn’t stop at the porch, we didn’t stop at all. I invited him up.

We got to the bedroom and the chemistry didn’t stop at kissing. He was amazing. I had never had better and I wanted more. How had I missed out on something like that for so long? Where had this man been? (oh right married!) I wanted more.

This was new though. We were in a relationship, but we weren’t dating. Upon my insistence he wasn’t my boyfriend. I had created a casual relationship which left me in a great deal of confusion. How do I act when you are just seeing a guy? Do I wait for him to call me, how often should he be calling me? Do we go on dates? This was confusing, a casual relationship, with the most amazing sex of my life.

Things got more confusing as the weeks past. He would call me back infrequently, and untimely. We went on less dates, actually we didn’t go on any dates. We rarely hung out anywhere but his bar, and without drinks. Rarely did we ever hang out alone.  I began feeling like he wasn’t as interested in me anymore. Sitting at home waiting for the phone to ring felt incredibly pathetic. The sex was great, but it wasn’t a relationship.

I realized that he and I rarely talked about things that mattered. We spent most of our time shooting the shit over a couple of pints. I was his rebound girl, and it felt like crap. How lonely was I, how long could I be the reboundee? I was just sex, and it felt good for the time being, but no longer. I didn’t want casual anymore. I didn’t want to be his rebound. Oh crap… how was I going to dump a guy who never answered his phone?  It was my fault, I had told him that we couldn't be serious.  CRAP!!

The Wicket Just Got Stickier?

So, he had convinced me to go out with him. He was very funny, smart and a great kisser and I was going to dinner with him. I was so excited. I love the feeling before the first date, when everything is pure. I sat through my grad school classes with a mixture of excitement and nervousness running through my veins. This guy really liked me and that felt great, he was taking me to a fabulous dinner followed only by drinks at his bar!!

Suddenly, I realized that I was kinda nervous. I hadn’t been on a first date in a really long time. When he arrived to pick me up for dinner, I was at a level three nervous. Less than two days ago I didn’t even like the guy. At dinner my conversation was worthless, I sounded like an idiot. He was cute, and charming, and told me that I looked pretty. I was putty. We walked over to his bar and I felt like a queen amidst paupers. I didn’t have to pay for one drink. It was amazing. We talked and joked and the chemistry was like nothing else. We closed the bar, and he walked me home and we kissed for a the perfect makeout. It was the most amazing kissing. Why had I considered not going out with this guy?

After kissing for a couple of minutes he looked at me and told me that he had something to tell me. With the most honest eyes possible, he told me that he was going through a divorce. He shared everything about the separation and divorce with me, I wasn’t sure how to feel. He had been married less than a year. He told me that he understood if I didn’t want to continue seeing him. I liked this guy, but a divorce? This could be messy? Could I handle this?