BLOG » naked in bed with boys i don’t love (part 1 of a gazillion):
so much stuff has happened. i haven’t written about my personal life in a while. i’ve been wanting to, but every time i tried to force myself… i’d do every other thing possible to avoid sitting down and writing. and i’ve been up to so much too! i’ve been having so many adventures, i’ve been using that as an excuse for not writing ‘well i’m too busy collecting stories.’ or ‘i can’t beat myself up for not writing because this is the down time where i’m supposed to experience things and reflect and…. zzzzzzz’. so now i’m sitting down and facing myself. what the fuck have i been up to? what the fuck have i been doing? where do i even start? i got out of a relationship… and the dude i dated is so unattractive to me now, i can’t even look back. however… the sex was great and he was kind. but given the opportunity, i will never sleep with him again. i call that ‘moving backwards’. i’m not saying the stories i’m about to tell you don’t involve me sleeping with guys i vowed never to mess around with again… i just mean, not THAT guy. even as we were breaking up; as i sat in his car during that cliché uncomfortable silence that happens when you sit in a car at night with the person you’re about to not be in a relationship with anymore… while i was semi tearing up, i was doing an internal inventory of the boys i’d been wanting to sleep with/guys i could potentially hook up with now that i was single! guys i’d met, known, seen that i thought ‘hmm… if and when i become single, he seems neat/sexy/cool/interesting… (or) i’d really love to make-out/be fucked by that guy!’ but no one even came to mind!
immediately after the break up, i just kept moving forward (like a shark?) for a moment i was fixated on a guy who was married but that’s not my style. i know better. and that momentary crush dissipated quickly. next i slept with a guy i’d met through a friend. over drinks, he gave me the impression he had split from his girlfriend. but after we slept together, he told me he was married, but that they were in a ‘weird place and taking space’. what the fuck? um, why didn’t anyone think to tell me about this? where was the wedding ring he was supposed to be wearing? why didn’t i know this before he asked me to drinks? fuck! even though this was not my problem, this was definitely NOT the type of experience i wanted to continue or repeat. we remained friends (and by friends, i mean casual acquaintances) but before we said goodbye, i talked to him for a very long while (over the phone) about his options/what his behavior meant. i tried to help him look at himself. but all he had were answers that made him feel less guilty and as if he had his life all figured out/wrapped up in a bow/and an excuse for everything. ha! i was already used to this type of lying one does to ones self from my conversations with the previous married guy i’d tried to psychoanalyze. i was very familiar with this bizarro compartmentalizing and rationalizing people who are too scared to just follow their heart do. they like to explain away to whoever will listen… but really, they’re talking to themselves.
i only had enough energy to say a few words to the guy. cuz this type of convo is exhausting and more often than not, results in nothing changing: ‘jesus fucking christ, the golden rule is treat people the way you want to be treated! if you don’t want to be with her, leave. the world won’t implode. you’ll both be okay. you’ll be doing each other a service. thank god you two don’t have kids! get out before she accidentally gets pregnant! or what if you cheat on her and get a disease and then give it to HER?! this isn’t ok! how would you feel if your wife walked around without a ring on, acted as if she were single, and slept with someone? probably not so good!’ ‘but she wouldn’t be able to survive without me. she’d crumble. she’s not strong enough. i wait around cuz maybe it’ll get better.’ ‘but how hard is it supposed to be? you’re still young! it’s not supposed to be this hard! you cheated! the trust is gone! this is not ok! oh, you think she wouldn’t be ok without you? she’d crumble? oh, really? fuck you! that is so self-indulgent! she’d be fine! believe me! do her a favor and end it! let her show you how fine she’d be! you’re being a pussy! you’re lying to yourself because you’re scared to be alone, you’re a people pleaser, and you want it both ways! That’s not ok!’
He decided to stay with his wife. yikes. these two back to back experiences with unhappy, confused, unavailable men made me question love/monogamy/and marriage… for a SECOND. then i remembered (after talking to dr. drew during one of my 7th grade style call in’s to loveline on kroq) that these are two very specific cases and don’t represent all men. phew. but why was i attracting such emotionally confused and unavailable men? was it because they were a reflection of me? was i just as confused and unavailable as them? or did they need to meet me because i was the perfect person to have a conversation with to send them back in the right direction… whatever that means? or at least a direction toward living a more clear and honest life? hmmm. who knows? but it didn’t go un-looked at on my end.
next, i went on a date with a SINGLE guy: tall, young, beautiful and totally wrong for me because i was completely uninterested in nearly everything he had to say. i didn’t want to be… but i was. we were in very different place in our lives. he gave me an epic guitar lesson… and that was the highlight. i wished it had been just that. i could have kept having him show me chords forever. he was such a wonderful teacher. thanks to him and our date, i realized that there’s a big difference between being able to play guitar and being able to teach guitar or teach anything in general. you can be a master at something, but it’s a completely different skill to be able to teach someone something. teaching takes patience and the art of communicating clearly. he was lovely, just not for me. we did not have sex; but he DID try to lick my privates… and i appreciate that!
i had lost a lot of weight at the tail end of my relationship because i’d been stressed from work. however, the week my relationship ended (in an empty indian restaurant on ventura blvd aka ‘the valley’ btw) my life suddenly slowed down. i feared i’d put weight back on… and i did. not a ton. i just went back to my normal self. no big deal. but i used this as an excuse to go into lock down mode. i needed to be alone. i needed to mourn the death of my relationship. i didn’t feel sexy. i didn’t want to be touched. i stayed in and watched bad tv- reality show bullshit, movies, the original 90210, sex and the city, something borrowed, an unmarried woman, broken english. i picked at my skin and tried to self sabotage….
and then out of nowhere, something shifted. i was in a weird place. NO, a NEW weird place. i was (metaphorically speaking) in a waiting room – work wise. i’d had all these meetings about projects and stuff and whatever and now all i could do was wait to hear back from the powers that be.
and even though i was continuing to wake up, breathe, eat, sleep, podcast, do some mediocre blawging and run errands, i felt aimless and a bit hopeless. but my previous isolated/internal depression turned into something else. i felt like i had nothing to lose.
i woke up one day and i no longer cared to stay in all night watching bad tv, hiding up in my apartment.
i wanted to be reckless and get drunk and make out and have sex and adventures. i didn’t give a fuck! was it because it was getting warmer out? no. i was living by a new code. i had a subconscious (now conscious) mantra going on in the back of my mind: ‘we’re all gonna die. it’s just a matter of when and how. so collect as many adventures as possible.’ and that’s when shit got exciting. this is just an intro to the stories to come… (to be continued)