Friday night exploded with anticipation until the main event arrived. He was already taken. As in, they live together. He needed a "breath of fresh air." He enjoyed the excitement and flirtation. He was taken.
Saturday night was a reminder of everything I'd already experienced. The thrill of the chase, the awe of the other human and all of their adventuring and wanting the passion that made those adventures so intense, the exhaustion of being unable to catch up mentally... I pride myself on being literate, appreciating the arts and flexing my fingers at the keyboard. I'm not a master of any of these things, nor am I able to quote much of anything outside of music lyrics at the drop of a hat.
Both nights I was countered with great conversation and handsome companions. Both nights I enjoyed myself. Both nights took me way outside of my comfort zone.
I know that to "grow" and stretch ourselves as humans, we need to push past those comfort zones. However, for the first time in nearly 3 years I felt the itch to medicate because I was terribly nervous and borderline panicky. I don't think I'm ready for companions unless they're mutually frisky with no strings, no current partners (ahem), and just want to be friends. I need friends, maybe that's where the anxiety crept in. I didn't want to come off as desperate but I didn't want to come off as the most boring human in the world.
I lay things flat out on the table to scare the weaklings off. I have a kid with learning differences. I have a kid with a heart condition. I have a child genius who overthinks and sends themselves over the edge. A lot. I love me, flaws and all. I love my cats. I am OBSESSED with my kids in an almost unhealthy way (IF you were to ask them.) I loved traveling, but it will be a minute before that ever happens again. I love to write, but I'm not the greatest at staying on topic. Music speaks to my soul. God made no mistakes, and I believe he is very real. I can't look at my kids and NOT believe in God. I've spent the past 14 years raising kids, humor me. Flatter me. Be honest and kind with me.
Probably the most awkward moment of the entire weekend was not so much ripping the proverbial bandaid off in front of my ex-husband and his wife while disciplining the oldest for his grades, but having to give middle the run down of how my dates went... in front of the ex. She asked how my Friday date went and I told her he already had a girlfriend, "LIKE, HE WAS ALREADY DATING SOMEONE AND STILL MET UP WITH YOU??!?" Yes, child. Much like a scenario we've already explained REGARDING THE OTHER PRESENT ADULTS sitting ON THE COUCH watching us with big awkward eyes. Yes. Like that. But we're friends and I'm over it, because I mean... dammit. This is the story of my life. "Was Saturday better?" Yes! Infinitely as far as availability went. Only he too, like a recent love of mine, needs to be in the thick of all the things and constantly be on the go. His stories were incredible though.
"You're a house cat, mom."
Yes child, I am.
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