Where are the Normal Men?

I’m really really upset and depressed about this whole Jacob situation. I feel like such an idiot. It’s become quite clear that he was never interested in a friendship. I sent him a happy birthday text last Wed. and he sent back a thank you. I texted him when I got a new job, and he didn’t reply until the next day. All I could see was a rectangle, so it must have been one of those picture apps or something. I said so, and got no reply. So basically if I contact him, I might get a short response, but he is no longer contacting me. The only thing I can conclude from this is that he was only interested in sex. Once I made it clear that that was not on the menu, he bugged out. I also probably scared the bejeezus out of him with that FB message I sent. It would have made it crystal clear how much I think about him, and I can only assume he hardly ever thinks about me, so it probably freaked him right out.

The ironic thing about all of this is that when we first met all I wanted to do was fuck. Honestly. He was the first person I had sex with after I broke up with Mark, and it was absolutely amazing. I would have been happy to have him just as a fuck buddy, but he kept talking (and acting, at least at first) like he really liked me, like he saw the whole thing as the beginning of a relationship. “I think we’re going to end up falling for each other.” At the time those words terrified me, because I wasn’t sure how I felt about him. Now, almost a year later, they haunt me. Shit, I just started crying. Because the thing is, I’ve never been in love with anyone who was in love with me back. In 37 years. My two real relationships happened because we got along, we were at least moderately attracted to each other, we had stuff in common, we had fun together, and we were tired of being alone. But in love, with the butterflies and all that? Not really.

I’ve been obsessed (I won’t dignify this pain with the word “love”) with people before, but I haven’t had it this bad for anyone in years. Literally. I just can’t seem to shake it, and it’s choking the life out of me. It just hurts so much to know that he doesn’t give a shit about me, when I think about him constantly, even though I know he’s evil and not worth it. I can’t seem to stop. I don’t know how to stop. It doesn’t help that the rest of my life is one giant stressful mess – there’s nothing in there that I want to think about, that’s for sure. So I’m thrown back onto thinking about his stupid ass. I don’t know when it’s going to end, either. The last time he fucked me over was at the end of January, and I sent him the FB request in June. Running into him at bar N precipitated that request, but I had thought about it many times before I actually did it. So, six months after he treated me like shit and I was still thinking about him. Hell, I still thought about him when I was dating and having amazing sex with Jason! So it’s definitely not just the memories of some incredible sack time.  I honestly wish I had never met him. I’ve never said that about anyone before, but he has caused me nothing but confusion and pain. Unfortunately, I think the only way for this to end is to fall for someone else, and that is of course easier said than done.

On that note, there is some other activity on the menz front. Friday night I went by myself (since L is driving me crazy with her negativity) to bar WS. The DJs were these two chicks who were playing some really awesome hard dirty electro beats. The dance floor was nearly empty, and I was pretty buzzed, so I was shakin’ it hard – I was also sweating so much I looked like I took a shower, lol! After a while this really cute guy came over and sat in the corner of the dance floor. Slim, brown hair, beard, beautiful big brown eyes. I kept doing my thing, while periodically giving him the eye. He was definitely checking me out, and he was sitting so close it was like I was dancing just for him. It was kind of hot.

I took a break after a while and went to the bathroom or something. When I came back out he was leaning on the pool table next to the dance floor. I went over and sat next to him and said “HI.” Well actually I don’t really remember what I said, because I was pretty damn drunk. But whatever it was, we started talking. Basic info: His name is James. He’s 32 and works as a barista. Not exactly impressive, but whatever.  I asked him if he would have made a move if I hadn’t, and he said no. What is wrong with men these days?!

Long story short, we ended up coming back over here. So we sat and chatted for a while, with a few kissing breaks. Then I decided I was ready to get down to business and climbed on up to straddle his lap while we made out some more.

The rest of the night is unfortunately kind of a blur because I was so wasted. God I hate it when I get that drunk! What I do remember: we didn’t have sex, I think we were just both too drunk. He went down, and stayed down for a while, and told me I had a “sweet little pussy.”  I went down on him, but he didn’t finish. He wasn’t hard until I started sucking him, actually, I really hope it was just a case of whiskey dick. I woke up at eight in the morning and he was gone. Oh. I was really disappointed, I wanted some more nookie while I was sober enough to remember it, lol! He is also someone I could potentially date, so I was kind of bummed that he just left without leaving a note or anything. So today – a day and a half later – I noticed that he left his number on the dry erase board I keep on my fridge! Dear lord, that’s how busy and out of it I’ve been! So that’s a good thing, and it made me smile to see it. I think I’ll wait until tomorrow to text him, don’t want to seem too eager, you know. I’m kind of nervous about it, not sure what to say. It’s been awhile since I’ve done this kind of thing, and who knows if we can even hold a conversation sober. But if it works out, then maybe, just maybe, I could start to get over stupid poo head Jacob.

Yesterday I worked a long ass catering shift, and when I was finished I wanted someone to serve ME a drink, dammit! So I went to IH. There was this one cute guy, who I’ve seen there before, and we checked each other out a bit. But of course nothing happened, because guys these days are apparently a bunch of wussie cowards. IH closes a little early, so I went to bar N. Doug was bartending, and he gave me a free double, the love. Frank was there, but he was across the bar talking to some people and we just waved at each other. Jared was there, and a few people he knew, so some random bar conversation ensued.

At the end of the night, Frank came over and asked me if I wanted to go with him to get something to eat. I don’t want to lead Frank on, but I was awfully hungry and a little drunk, so I said yes. They were kicking everyone out of the bar, so I went outside and talked to Jared’s friends while I smoked a cig. I finished my cigarette, and Frank still hadn’t come out. I was annoyed. I decided I’d smoke one more. I finished it, and he still hadn’t come out. Now I was really annoyed, and decided that it was past time to go home. So I walked down to my car, and I had just gotten settled in the driver’s seat when here comes Frank, bolting out of his taxi (he always cabs it home) to come talk to me. He’s like, “You left me!” I said, “Well they were kicking everyone out, what was I supposed to do? You’re the one who suggested we go eat, and I waited outside for a while.” He said, “I’m so sorry, I got caught up in a conversation with this guy. Please come eat with me.” I said no, it was too late and I just wanted to go home. He kept apologizing, and made me give him a hug to show I wasn’t mad at him. Good grief.

So anyway, that’s where I’m at. Still obsessed with Jacob, a possible new guy, and Frank being Frank. I wish I could not think about men at all, but it’s hard not to when the rest of my life is so stressful and sucky. I have actually been in that place before, where I was just happy being single, and that is of course when I met Brad and Mark, my only two real boyfriends. I’d love to get back to that place, but I know from experience that you can’t force it, it just kind of happens. Sigh.

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