Got Some Teeth

I got Catfished tonight and I got Catfished hard.

I guess in retrospect I knew something was off about this guy. He seemed way to eager to meet up with me. It was borderline obnoxious, but I thought that maybe I had finally met someone who thought I was just as great as I think I am…. and maybe he was just a little eccentric.

Usually, before I meet up with someone I stalk their entire lives. I have almost been catfished once but was able to figure it out by reverse searching the phone number. Just in time for him to not show up to our date. I also like to know if I am meeting up with someone whose wife is going to call me in a couple weeks asking who I am and why her husband is always texting this number. Or if he has a criminal record. For whatever reason, I didn’t do that with this guy. I guess the time just got away from me and honestly, I was kind of losing interest in meeting up with him anyway so I was hoping he was going to cancel.

He lived about an hour from me and wanted to meet in the city he lived. I am kind of a snob about this, I will totally meet you halfway between my place and yours but I am not driving all the way to you. I spent way to much time in  relationships doing the most. I refuse to continue to do that so if you can’t at least meet me half way than I have no interest in meeting up with you. I suggested meeting for drinks at a place I had been to a few times with other dates and he agreed to meet me there.

When I showed up to the bar I wasn’t entirely sure who I was meeting. There wasn’t anyone there that looked like the guy from the pictures on the profile. The only reason I knew I wasn’t being stood up is that some guy got up and hugged me. He didn’t look anything like the pictures. There it was, my first catfish. Like an actual catfish he had no teeth but in his photos he had teeth. I’m not a snob. I figured maybe he was a nice guy plus I had driven over half an hour for this date so I was gonna see it through. As we sat down he said he had “already ordered a drink and hoped I didn’t mind” he was drinking a coke, but it seemed like he was trying to pass it off like he was drinking a cocktail.

He told me that he was working that day so I asked him what he did for work. He told me he was a rapper and that he was “doing odd jobs for his parents” who he lived with while he waited for his job at a Marijuana Dispensary to start in November. A grown ass 30-year-old man is sitting next to me at the bar trying to pass off doing chores for his parents with whom he lives as a “job”. Then he starts telling me all about how much weed he smokes and how much he knows about weed and how “he’ll be honest with me, he’s just drinking a regular coke because he doesn’t drink he just smokes weed.”

Look, I don’t smoke weed and I don’t care if someone I am dating casually smokes weed. But, if that is the only thing you bring to the table than we really have nothing in common. Not to mention this 30-year-old man is trying to pretend like he is also drinking. Just be upfront about the fact that you don’t drink we totally could have done something other than meet for drinks. Things were not going well, aside from him being a toothless, jobless stoner living in his parent’s basement we literally had nothing to talk about. I have never been on a date with so many awkward silences, so I started trying to make my exit.

I really only wanted to stay for one drink, but I felt guilty and stayed for two. About halfway through the second drink, I told him I was tired and had to be up for work super early (I lied, whoops…) so I was gonna head home after the second drink. He asked if I was leaving now or if we were going to leave together. In hindsight I think he was trying to take me home to his parent’s basement but I thought he just meant we were gonna walk out at the bar at the same time so I told him that I would wait for him. The tab came and I paid, I had cash and honestly I didn’t want to have to wait any longer, plus he drank a coke and I knew I didn’t want to see him again so I just dropped a 20 and left. I didn’t even wait for change, that bartender got a 100% tip on that bill.

We walked outside and I asked him where he had parked, hoping he wasn’t going to try and kiss me, and he tells me he “had a problem with his car so he ubered there”. It made total sense why he wanted me to come all the way to him for our date. He didn’t have a car either. So to recap, my date last night had no job, no car, no teeth, and lived in his parent’s basement. Guys I am not a snob but come on…. you gotta  at least have 1 out of 4. I know dating after 30 gets pretty hairy, but 1 out of 4 isn’t asking for much.

I looked at his tinder profile when I got home. He said he was intelligent and that he worked in website design. Neither of these were true. Unsurprisingly,  he looked nothing like his profile pictures and not just because he actually had teeth in his picture it looked like a completely different person.

What’s Nev’s phone number? I need to report a catfish.

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Airplanes

Last weekend, I went on a date with a guy I met on Tinder. It was fine, but he was a shitty tipper. If you know me, you know that is a huge deal breaker for me. If someone else is buying my drinks I probably shouldn’t be so critical, but having worked in the industry it’s just something I really notice. Aside from that, he was a nice guy, with a decent job, who came from a nice family. I wasn’t sure we really clicked, but I almost always feel like that after a date. I’m starting to wonder if I’m the real problem.

Before the date was over, we agreed to go out again on Saturday. We were going to meet for brunch at this restaurant I had been dying to try since I moved to the city.

He texted me a lot and always said good morning. It was something I really enjoy so I was thinking the tipping thing would be teachable. Before our brunch date on Thursday night, he asked me if I wanted to meet for drinks again. I said yes. By the time I was free it was kind of late and he was understandably tired. I offered to just see him on Saturday, but he invited me to his place instead. I sort of knew it was a booty call. I figured we were both adults and he was upfront about what he was really looking for a little second date schtokus wouldn’t hurt. Plus, I wasn’t sure about him anyways so I might as well get laid.

The sex was great, think like the episode of SATC when Charlotte is dating that guy who makes her blackout when he’s going down on her, great. It’s so rare that I hook up with someone and think ‘damn can’t wait to do that again’. I found myself in a sex haze, the kind that makes you think I can put up with someone’s bullshit because the sex is so great. You really start to wonder if the things you didn’t like about them were valid, or if you are just making shit up because your trying to protect yourself from getting hurt again.

The next day he started acting weird. That was when I realized he was one of those guys. The ones who lie to girls about what they are looking for to just get laid. (There goes my sex haze). Honestly, I didn’t think that was a thing guys had to do anymore, now that Tinder is a thing. But hey- I guess if this guy’s willing to spend $100 on a date to get laid and never talk to me again…he’s probably not the type of person I want to spend my time with.

He claimed he was sleeping all day. Part of me really wanted to believe that, but, I really could sense the bullshit from a mile away.  I wasn’t surprised when he texted me an hour before we were supposed to meet on Saturday. He bailed because he “wasn’t feeling good.” I knew he was full of shit. But on the off chance he wasn’t lying, I told him I hoped he felt better and let him know when I was free next. He never responded. I had already decided that I was going to get brunch whether he was with me or not.

I decided a long time ago I wasn’t going to do the things I wanted to do just because I didn’t have someone to do them with. Brunch waits for no man so I put my good butt yoga pants on and headed out.

It was BYOB. I sat at the bar and drank a bottle of champagne by myself. Halfway through my meal, two girls sat down next to me and commented how ‘ballsy’ it was for me to be brunching alone with my bottle of champagne. They were sisters, in town for a wedding, both living in different parts of the country. I gave them some things to do around town while they were here. I mentioned I wanted to visit Texas (where they grew up) but had been putting it off because I wasn’t sure what I would do once I was there. They made me a list of things to do and where to stay if I ever decided to go.

My time with those girls (and a bottle of champagne) got me thinking. I realized a long time ago, that I had put off a lot of things in my life. All because I was doing what I thought I was supposed to do and not the things I wanted to do. So I decided to book a flight. Flights were cheap. It was actually the second trip I’d booked this week. I guess you could say my life has become sort of  drinking game. Instead of drinking every time someone says the word ‘ass’ …..you book a flight every time your disappointed by a man.

I guess you could say that right now I’m on the verge of some sort of Eat Pray Love type of journey. Except for me its mostly just eating…. and drinking. Probably not good for my liver or the size of my ass but hopefully it’ll be good for my soul …..or whatever. At the very least I will get to see what else is out there, and maybe make a decision on where and how I want to restart my life.

Bullet Proof

I knew when I wrote the post ” Same Mistake” a month ago he probably was going to see it. That’s the danger in putting yourself out there the way I put myself out there. I hoped that when he saw it he would understand the point of the post was never about how “bad” he was, but about how I was questioning some of the rules I had put into place within my own life to protect myself from continuing to make the same mistakes I had made in the past that led me to where I am now. The point of the post was never meant to make him feel attacked, or to try to get back at him for breaking up with me.

Nope. Instead, three weeks later, I got a message from him apologizing for “being so bad I had to write about him”, to which I tried to explain what the actual point of the post was. He claimed he wasn’t mad, and the truth was for the period of time we were dating he wasn’t bad, actually he was probably among the best people I had been with and I didn’t have a single bad thing to say about him aside from the fact that I was hurt that it didn’t work out. That was why I was having a tough time letting it go, and why I had started to wonder whether or not I was in the wrong for cutting people out of my life after he had reached out to me again. As much as it sucked that things didn’t work out he never became “bad” in my eyes until long after things between us ended.

I could’ve just explained myself and left it at that, not that I really should have needed to. He ended things with me months ago so if he was going to keep checking up on me that’s kind of on him. Instead, I asked why he was still reading my blog “it’s a good read” I think a big part of me really just wanted to hear that he missed me, so I hit him with “its fine that you miss me, I’m pretty missable” The response I got, in a nutshell, was that yeah I’m missable but he doesn’t want to be with me….Ouch, ok so why are we having this conversation then?

At that point, I decided we needed to establish some sort of boundaries. I am at a really low point in my life and I really don’t need to add any more complication to my already complicated situation. I let him know that he needed to decide what he wanted from me, if he wanted to try and date again I would consider it (against my better judgment), if he wanted to be friends we could try to be friends, but if he didn’t want anything from me but was going to continue to keep tabs on my life and find arbitrary reasons to contact me that he needed to just leave me alone because it wasn’t fair to me.

“It isn’t fair but at this point I don’t play fair. ‘alls fair in love and war'”.  Ok, but that rule doesn’t apply to us, we never even got that far. I was certainly headed there. I had definitely told people that he was someone I could see myself loving him in the future, but we didn’t get there. He ended things before it got that far, and I can’t imagine you’d end things with someone you cared about.

I could maybe understand any of this if I had broken up with him, but he’s the one who ended things. Did I fight him on it? No, but I told him a long time ago that I was a one-shot girl and that if he was going to end things he needed to be sure about it because there wasn’t any going back. I told him he needed to be honest about what he wanted or to cut the shit, he told me he didn’t want anything from me, I told him not to contact me anymore then and I tried to let it go.

A week goes by.

I tried to let it go. I really did. I gave it the good ‘ol college try. But, I that comment boiled in my blood for the next week. “All is fair in love in war” was on repeat in my mind. I probably  stopped myself three times from contacting him. On the fourth time,  I couldn’t hold it in anymore and I lost it. I sent him this message:

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He responded by telling me that another girl he dated said the same thing and she followed it up with “no matter how many girls you hurt you will never get back at your ex-wife”.

Imagine getting dumped and given zero explanation for it. You don’t hear anything for months. Then, all of a sudden they decide to start showing up every couple of weeks to make you feel rejected all over again and at the end of the day the reason has not a single thing to do with you.

The most powerful thing I did for myself was to accept the apology I was never getting from my ex-husband. It was the only way I was going to move on from the things he did to me. I never want to play ‘Who has More Scars?’ However, some of the things that happened to me during my marriage are things most people could never even imagine doing to another person let alone living through. I have never once used that as an excuse to hurt someone. If I did that would be letting him win and well, fuck that. I wasn’t going to give any more time to someone who literally didn’t give a shit about the fact that they hurt me. I can understand being hesitant to start another relationship after someone really hurts you like that. Hurting people who had nothing to do with the past that you can’t move on from doesn’t make any sense. In the end, the person you’re really hurting is yourself.

Now that I had broken the silence with that text, I spent the next hour laying into him. He didn’t fight me on it and he apologized….a lot. I’m not sure if that made me feel better or worse. Honestly,  he might have just been trying to shut me up. I guess I don’t really blame him there. Then he told me that he thought I was bulletproof because I “have that Instagram where I make fun of guys and the weird shit they say to me”.

I am…..to a point. I don’t let things that happened in my past dictate the rest of my life. I don’t let opinions of small men behind computer screens affect my self-confidence or self-worth, and I don’t dwell on stupidity. But that doesn’t mean I can’t be hurt, and that doesn’t mean that you should continue to do things that you know to be hurtful just because you don’t think the person you’re doing them to is capable of being hurt.

To be honest I’m kind of mad at myself for letting him get under my skin like that. I’m even more mad that I let him know that he had gotten under my skin. I hate to have given someone who clearly doesn’t give a shit about me that kind of power. I thought it would make me feel better to tell him how I really felt but in a way it actually made me feel worse. Me losing my shit didn’t change anything other than probably make him think I’m nuts, and even if it had I think at this point its become too toxic which isn’t something either of us really needs.

You’re never going to be good enough for the wrong person. I know this isn’t a problem with me and I shouldn’t let myself feel that it is. I know that the fact that things didn’t work out between us has nothing to do with how worthy I am of someone giving a shit about me and I shouldn’t and won’t tolerate someone who clearly doesn’t give a shit about me walking in and out of my life and doing or saying whatever they see fit just because I give a shit about them.

Drunk in Love

Day drinking is dangerous. Sometimes you end up hung over by 5pm, sometimes you end up banging your 22-year-old waiter in his mom’s basement.

My sister and I had had a particularly rough week so we decided to meet up for some buffalo cauliflower and sangria. Two pitchers of sangria later we had gotten pretty friendly with our waiter who was relatively new to the area. I don’t remember how it came up but he mentioned that he would want to hang out with us sometime and get drinks, so I gave him my number in the least creepy way it could possibly be when you’re giving your random waiter your number, so we could all hang out sometime. We decided to go to a cheaper bar down the street and said he was welcome to meet us there if he was going to get cut any time soon.

Making new friends is super awkward especially in a situation like that. I was mostly just trying to be friendly, and I honestly didn’t expect to hear from him ever again, to be honest, I thought he was probably going to think I was super creepy for giving him my number even though I didn’t have any intentions beyond friendship. It only took about 20 minutes for him to text me and ask if we had made it to the other pub yet. He met us there a couple of hours later. I wasn’t expecting him to meet us there, and I really wasn’t expecting him to sit next to me and start playing footsie under the table with me either,

I had barely rolled out of bed that morning, I hadn’t done laundry in three weeks, I was wearing my last resort mom jeans, no makeup, and my hair was so full of dry shampoo that the only thing I could do with it was wearing it in a shitty bun on top of my head. I wasn’t even wearing deodorant because I had just gotten all my waxing done, my eyebrows were probably still red. But here I was sitting in a bar looking like one step above a people of Walmart submission and this hot 22 year old is rubbing my leg under the table.

To be clear from the minute we left the restaurant my sister was convinced that he was trying to hook up with me, or her, or both of us. Shes married so I was really the only feasible option. I just thought we were going to have the next greatest friendship story, that is not what happened.

I don’t really remember a lot of the details  that led up to me leaving the bar with him that night, but judging by my texts from my sister from that day I know that she “didn’t want to cock block me”, which she certainly didn’t if anything she was the cock enabler, world-class wing woman. Anyway, the next thing I knew I was in this kids moms basement having the type of sex you would expect to have with a 22-year-old, and when I came out of his bathroom I was face to face with his 12-year-old brother which was somehow more awkward than it would’ve been if I had come face to face with his mom.

When it was over he dropped me off at my car and went to go sell weed, which was exactly the thing I would expect a 22-year-old to do after banging some almost 30-year-old woman. All of this happened before 8pm…on a Wednesday.

There is one lesson here for sure, my mom always tells me that I need to stop leaving the house looking like I just ended an 8-month long bender because you never know who you’re going to run into. If this situation didn’t prove her right I don’t know what will.

while he really is a nice enough guy and super good looking I just can’t picture myself having enough in common with him to continue anything beyond a strictly platonic friendship and since we have already crossed that bridge I don’t really think there is any going back from that. I have one male friend that I was able to have a platonic friendship with after we had sex, but that happened a couple years later and after a long time of having no contact with him, and there is still always that awkward element of having seen each other naked within our friendship.

I guess you could say that restaurant really gave me some more bang for my buck than I was intending that day.  I guess you could also say that depending on how this plays out my sister and I probably need to find a new restaurant halfway between our house to meet.

Brush your shoulders off

I’m not sure if this is the best or the worst thing about me, but I always push things as far as I possibly can. So last week when I got yet another message from a guy asking me if he could be my sugar daddy I responded the same way I responded to the other 750 guys who send me messages asking me to pay me for sex, I gave him my venmo and told him to put his money where his mouth was and send me something to prove he was serious.

I never expect anyone to actually send me money. I figured he would do what every other guy has done and disappear or tell me to go fuck myself. Instead, this guy paid me $25. It wasn’t a ton of money but it was the most money anyone has ever given me for no reason and it was enough to pay my bar tab that night so I was thrilled. Totally confused, but thrilled.

After he sent me the money he started asking me for pictures. Obviously, I’m not into that and even if I was my nudes are worth way more than $25 so there was no chance I was gonna send him anything. He wanted to know what he was going to get for his money, I let him know that he was getting an opportunity to “interview for the sugar daddy position”. I figured that was going to be the last time I ever heard from him but I guess that was a satisfying enough response because he asked me if I wanted to get drinks the following week.

I probably shouldn’t have agreed to meet him, but to be honest, I wasn’t totally sure if he was actually that much of a creep or if he didn’t just send me the money to call my bluff.  If that was the case I was kinda into it, but I figured at the very least if we actually did meet for drinks it was probably going to be hilariously weird, and its not like I would’ve had much else to do, and it was a public place so really the worst thing that was gonna happen was that he was actually a total creep.

We were supposed to meet for drinks Monday night. I asked him if we were going to discuss my allowance on our date. I was mostly kidding but apparently, he wasn’t because homeboy actually started discussing how much money he was willing to give me every week and what he was going to expect from me in return.

It was super weird especially since what he wanted were really vanilla things that most women do for free, and he was a good looking guy so there really was no reason he should even NEED to pay for sex. I guess it’s just his kink, to each their own I guess. He started asking me to send him pictures, and once again I decided to see how far I could push things, so I told him I was going to need some sort of deposit on the sugar daddy arrangement in order to send him anything.

I seriously thought he was finally going to tell me to go fuck myself or something but instead, he started negotiating a price for me to send him pictures of my boobs. I told him I wanted $250, at this point, I just wanted to see how much I could get out of him before he unmatched me. I didn’t think he would actually seriously negotiate a price for a picture of my boobs, but we wound up settling on $150 for a picture on snapchat with no face and I wanted the money first because ” this wasn’t mamas first rodeo” (it totally was my first rodeo).

I basically shit my pants when he actually added me on snapchat and then venmoed me the full $150. He drove a hard bargain but one thing he missed during the negotiation process was the clause that said they had to be naked boobs. He must’ve been super surprised when he opened his snap chat the next day and found a picture of my boobs, completely covered by my t-shirt.

Probably not what he was expecting, but sometimes, when you play stupid games you win stupid prizes and I became $175 richer for doing absolutely nothing.  Naturally, I haven’t heard from him since and as expected he blew off our date  which isn’t really much of a tragedy, his venmo featured his full first and last name, which I looked up on facebook along with the city he told me lived in which is where I found all the pictures of his girlfriend. So not only is he a creep trying to pay girls money for sex he’s also cheating on someone so, to be honest maybe I was a little bit of a scumbag taking money from him but in the end, he did kind of get what he deserved.

Jailhouse rock

Second biggest fear: I settle for someone not right for me, just so I don’t end up dying alone with a bunch of cats.

First biggest fear: I die alone with a bunch of cats.

However, after my last date (if you can even call it that), getting 75 cats and dying alone looks pretty good.

I’ve known the guy for a while; I met him a couple years ago when I ran into a mutual friend who was having drinks with him. We hit it off from the start from what I can remember, but he had just had a baby, and things weren’t going well with his baby momma, etc. It didn’t go anywhere beyond some Facebook comments here and there.

After him and the kid’s mom broke up, our mutual friend tried to set us up. He was a good looking guy, and I liked his personality, so I agreed. He seemed hesitant though, so I didn’t push it, and eventually just gave up.

After I got laid off, I had an abundance of free time, which I wasn’t used to having. One day, I was pretty bored and decided to message him on Facebook to see if he wanted to meet for drinks. He told me he would message me in a couple hours and let me know. I took it as a no, and went to the nearest Whole Foods to drink $4 rose.

He did end up messaging me a couple hours later, to my surprise, asking where I wanted to meet. I chose a place halfway between where we both live. I’m not really sure what I was expecting to happen that night, but it definitely it wasn’t what I got.

I arrived a little early, and sat at the bar to grab a drink while I waited. When he did arrive, we exchanged pleasantries and I asked how he’d been.

“Not good.” He said.

Guys, I don’t care how bad things are. You never tell a girl you’re going out with for the first time that things aren’t good. I’m not really good with other people’s emotions.

I was hoping he’d stop there, but he didn’t.

“I just got out of jail on Monday.” He added.

I started scouting the emergency exits.

“My ex got a restraining order, and I just couldn’t leave the bitch alone so she put me in jail for 25 days.”

What the fu-

It was like a bomb that just kept exploding. I should’ve left after he admitted to being a stalker, but to be honest I didn’t wanna do anything that was gonna set him off so I stayed.

I thought we would have one drink and call it a night. Homeboy made one beer last three hours. The entire time talking about how women are to blame for men having anger management issues, and that every guy he met in jail was there because of a woman.

Meanwhile, I’m just mainlining vodka hoping the night ends soon.

He finally finished half of his beer and decided he was done. I thought I was in the home stretch. Then he decides he wants to go for a walk. I suggest going just outside the bar (still in full view of the bartender).

We get outside the bar and he suddenly hugs me.

“I feel like you don’t wanna hug me.” He says. I tell him I’m just not a hugger, which is half true. But I was also internally screaming, “Yeah obviously I don’t wanna hug you you nut job.”

It lasted another hour after that. He whined the entire time, partially about how terrible women are, and partially about how many mosquitoes there were outside. Outside, where he insisted we go instead of staying in the bar….or just going home.

Finally, we said goodbye and he kissed me.

It was painful. Not physically, but painful as in it was clear that neither of us wanted it to happen. But it was happening, and it was super forced and super awkward.

We said we’d keep in touch. I blocked him on every possible social media avenue possible as soon as I got home.

I need to stop letting my friends play matchmaker.

Same Mistake

It seems like I always hear from the person I don’t want to hear from at exactly the time I don’t want to hear from them, and for whatever reason, it usually involves some sort of meme. I usually pride myself on my ability to let shit go, but for some unknown reason, this was one that I just couldn’t.

It happened a few months ago, I met a guy on tinder, and he asked me to dinner. I agreed to go, which broke my first rule of dating (never do a meal as a first date) and figured maybe I could steer the date into just drinks. After he asked me out I didn’t hear from him for a few days, so honestly, I was starting to think I was being catfished. I half expected to show up at the bar and have him just not show up.  He did, and I had a great time but he didn’t kiss me at the end of the date so I figured he probably wasn’t interested, which was fine, I was just gonna move on and keep on swiping.

I was more than a little surprised when he asked me to meet him again, but also glad because I had a good time with him which is rare on a first date. He had also found my tinder Instagram before we met up that first time and still wanted to meet me, so at the very least he had a sense of humor. Things were going well, or so I thought. I had decided to deactivate my dating apps, and I was getting really comfortable with the idea of regular sex and a drinking buddy.

Things started to look like they were going to get serious, I started telling my friends and family about him, and that’s when he broke things off with me. In a text, while I was at dinner with my mom with no real explanation as to why. I was pretty upset (like shed a tear in the restaurant upset….. and I didn’t even know I had tear ducts), but if he didn’t think things were going to work between us I wasn’t going to beg him to want to be with me. I kind of got the feeling he was looking for me to fight him on it, and the old me probably would have. But at this point, I’ve learned that 75% of the issues in my life could have been avoided if  I had just held the door open for the people who wanted to walk out of it rather than beg them to stay. So even though I was hurt and disappointed I just let it go.

As much as it sucked I wasn’t surprised. I had checked his tinder profile once or twice just because I was nosy and noticed that he had updated his profile. It was still pretty early on so I wasn’t going to bring it up until I had to, but since he ended things with me three days later it became a non-issue.

Of course, because I had told my friends and family about him I had to have obligatory “oh it didn’t work out I’m just gonna get a bunch of cats and die instead” conversation whenever they asked about it. They kept saying I would hear from him again but I didn’t really believe it or really want to to be honest. I deleted his number and any other semblance of him in my life, reactivated my tinder and slept with some 21 year old boy to numb my pain (because the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else right?).

Just when I started to forget about it I noticed him looking at my Instagram story for my tinder page. I was going to call him out about it, but my sister (and my voice of reason) told me to just block him and not think about it. So that’s what I did.

There were a few different times I almost reached out to him because something reminded me of him, but I refuse to be that person who doesn’t let go. Especially with someone, I didn’t know that well to begin with, and especially with someone who didn’t see how awesome I was. I made myself a promise a long time ago that I was never going to beg another person to give a shit about me ever again, and I won’t. After my last relationship ended I decided I was going to stop giving people so many chances. Mostly in relationships but I guess I should really carry that over to my friendships as well. 90% of the trauma that’s happened in my life could’ve been avoided if I hadn’t given the men I was with so many extra chances and opportunities to treat me like shit. It’s not that I’m punishing people in my present for the mistakes of my past, it a matter of knowing my own worth and expecting the people in my life to recognize it as well.

I had finally stopped thinking about him when I got laid off. The day I wrote my post about it I got a message on my personal Instagram. It was from him, and it was, of course, a meme because that’s what every guy uses to get to me when they really wanna get to me. I could’ve just ignored it, but someone pointed out that he had clearly read my blog post earlier in the day and that it wasn’t a coincidence, and I am clearly at a weak point in my life so instead it sent me into kind of a tailspin.

Even though the rational side of me knew that he didn’t somehow realize he made a mistake and he wasn’t making any sort of effort to rekindle anything with me I started overthinking it. I  started rethinking my whole no second chance thing, maybe if he was reaching out to try and start things again that I was being too harsh by not giving him a second chance. In reality, it was just a meme, not some gesture to try and get in touch with me again. I should’ve just blocked him and moved onIMG_3208, but obviously, my irrational ass didn’t do that. Fueled by tequila and a slight bit of rage,  I instead sent this message…. like two weeks later. I’m not even sure why I did it, it wasn’t going to change anything, In reality, he didn’t give a shit about me- and even if he did I know better than to spend any more time on someone who didn’t realize how great I was the first time around. If I can be completely honest though, even if I did sound kind of like a crazy person it actually did make me feel better.

I pride myself on taking all the bad things that happened to me and using them to make me better and not bitter, but somehow I feel like maybe I am being slightly bitter by completely cutting out the opportunities for second chances. Maybe it’s not about giving chances but about learning to recognize red flags and not make excuses for them. It doesn’t matter in this situation, that’s a dead issue, but I also don’t want to spend the rest of my life running from things because I’m afraid of wasting any more time or repeating the mistakes of my past.