Archive for March, 2019


Webster Merriam defines a relationship as the way that two people relate to each other.

That definition translates to different things for different people. For the purpose of this post, I am going to refer to a romantic relationship. Wikipedia defines a romantic relationship as an interpersonal relationship that involves physical or emotional intimacy. It seems as though the physical intimacy is the one that everyone focuses on.

Guys are lucky. Yeah, I said guys are lucky. They can compartmentalize their emotions or feelings to an event or situation. They can feel everything that we feel in a situation but they have the ability to leave those feelings with that situation.

Men are good at the physical intimacy, but they are also just as good at the emotional intimacy, they just don’t realize it. Want to see a man turn white? Throw the word ’emotional’ in a few sentences and he can’t handle it. Society has taught him the sentence ‘men suck at feelings’. Turns out, they are pretty good at feelings.

Emotional intimacy in its simplest form is remembering things about you. Asking about your day. Getting your jokes. That is emotional intimacy. Just don’t tell men that.

Relationships come in all forms. Physical intimacy is crucial but emotional intimacy is critical to bridging the gap between two people. Knowing someone well enough to support their ideas, listen to them vent, laugh together, and even feel pain together is what a relationship is about. And it is priceless.

I keeping hearing how much work that part is. (Three different men in a two week period). No strings, they say. To me, emotional intimacy is akin to breathing. It isn’t work. I love that person. I want to know about them. I want to know that they hate doing the dishes; I want to know that they had a shitty day at work; I want to know that after a full day of dealing with stupid people, they don’t want to talk. That is me. No one is 100% perfect at each facet of a relationship. There is no ‘completion date’ to a relationship, it is a living thing, ever changing, ever growing.

Relationships tend to fall apart when our expectations and desires become more important to us than the person that we are with.

There is something to be said for the person who honestly tells you that they don’t want any emotional intimacy at all and probably won’t ever. As much as it hurts, it is far less destructive than living a lie for years on end, because I am one big ball of knotted strings.


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What do I mean?

I mean you can take any subject and not only will you believe that that subject doesn’t exist by the end of the conversation, but you will also question your name, you family history, your DNA, whether the earth is flat, and even whether you exist or not.

You can have guns, weapons of all kinds, but if you stick an attorney in the middle, you will be crying by the end of the story and giving your weapons away just to make the attorney s-t-f-u.

They are experts in minutia. Experts of the loophole. They are amazing to have in your corner.

Just don’t get on the wrong side…..

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There isn’t a lot in life that is perfect.

(Kids are perfect if they are yours (duh))

In everyday stresses of life; perfection is sitting across from someone you love with all your heart, laughing and sharing miseries on a Tuesday evening.

I have missed those blue eyes so very much.

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Done. Just so done with dating.

Don’t let anyone tell that chemistry doesn’t matter.

Because it does.

Don’t let anyone tell you that you are overcomplicated. So are they.

I tried to go with what was good on paper, it would have meant financial security. I wouldn’t ever have had to worry about money. But I couldn’t do it.

I don’t get people who can be in a relationship based on someone’s resume and bank account. I can’t do it.

I would rather be drinking koolaid and eating peanut butter crackers and laughing at Live PD than talking about Brexit in a hotel, and discussing why Bernie Sanders lost the election and not laughing.

I am ok finding a nerf dart under my pillow.

I don’t love by mistake. I don’t half love. When I love, it is 100%. I can’t force it or fake it. I am tired of trying to figure out how to move on. I am tired of trying to not be me.

I am done with dating. I am done. I give up. The ‘closed for business’ sign is now up.

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Simple things

Simple things like fixing the dishwasher can be such a big deal.

It isn’t earth shattering.

It isn’t even neighborhood shattering.

But to me, it reminds me that I don’t have to rely on anyone to help me take care of my family. And that is a pretty big thing.


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Is ‘single’ a crutch?

I am not a fan the effort it takes to evaluate and re evaluate myself in order to find a relationship and maintain one.

I am in love with someone that I cannot have. Someone that I would do anything for and he isn’t in a place to want that with me. Which is whatever. I would rather not make someone else miserable.

Because my heart is stupid and trying to ‘find herself’ I am trying to go through the motions and maybe my heart will catch up. Maybe being single gave my brain an ‘out’ so I didn’t have to try to move on.

Instead, I hold hands wishing they were someone else’s hands. I kiss hoping when my eyes open, I see someone else. After we meet for dinner or lunch, I go and ugly cry my way home.

I give up trying to understand. I give up the midlife crisis of wanting someone that I have true chemistry with. It is time to put that stupid girl back in her box and close the lid. “Your heart is a lying traitor.” I whisper to her as I tape up the box. “Throw the crutches away and grow the hell up.”

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The table cloth trick

The trick is to rip the cloth out from underneath the place settings without murdering anyone, or breaking any dishes.

It is rarely done successfully.

It was done successfully last week and I have been completely disarmed by it.

I am used to wearing armor and taking potshots from people. I am used to a dating world shitshow. I am used to having to try to contain my anxieties, only to have them explode later in a psycho rainbow.

A young man has stuck around after the psycho rainbow; effectively yanking the tablecloth out from under the dishes. It wasn’t that he took the rainbow and accepted it, because he didn’t. He challenged it. He questioned it. He talked about it.

And then he gave me his hand…….

Anyone who truly knows me, knows how big of a deal this is. The tablecloth is off the table and no one got hurt.

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