Somewhere in these next few days marks my first year of being me post-relationship. It’s gone by really fast, and while I honestly like being single more than I like dating, it still feels weird sometimes after an almost 8 year coupling.
In the last year, I’ve used multiple dating apps and attempted 2 dates. The first guy was supposed to meet me at Sharky’s but he stood me up.
The second guy met me for coffee and could not hold a conversation at all. He just made occasional mumbling about his dog. I love dogs. I’m a dog person. But this guy seemed completely terrified of actually talking to me.
I’ve had a lot of guys get crappy with me in chats because they accuse me of playing games when I don’t invite them over immediately. No, I’m just not allowed to have guests. And no, I’m not looking for a hookup, k thnx bai.
I’m not even really actively looking to date. If I find a connection with someone and it’s a good fit and we enjoy each other, great. If not, I’m not all that invested. And if a good thing happens, I feel like I’m ready to be a part of it, but there’s no rush. And that’s okay!
Anyway, yeah, one year also marks the time I’ve been living with mom and her boyfriend. One year of cleaning, purging, and organizing a mess that’s mostly not mine. I’ve made a lot of progress, but I’m looking forward to the day I’m not living here any longer.
Baby steps though. Baby steps.
I realized I have no idea how people even go about meeting people now. Like how do you find new people to date? Do they just appear? Do you throw a Pokeball™ at them and hope for the best? I’m just baffled by this whole meeting new people thing. And dating! Jesus. I’ve never really dated. I’ve slept with many people. I’ve had a few relationships. But I’ve pretty much bypassed dating completely.
I’m on a few dating sites. And I placed an ad on Craigslist (I know, I know, its the dregs of the internet.) which has had mixed results. I’ve received 4 random dick pics with no accompanying text to which I replied with a photo of my toes. Only one guy got the humor in a “random body part photo exchange.”
Anyway, last Wednesday I was supposed to have my first date. Super casual, meet at Sharky’s and shoot a few racks. Except he never showed up. I stayed for 90 minutes, shot 5 racks by myself, had a cheeseburger, and a beer. It was actually kind of fun. Turns out that since he works nights, he neglected to set an alarm and overslept. I didn’t get mad but I was disappointed.
Friday night I’m going to a BDSM play party. Its my first one and I’m nervous, but I’m more nervous about wearing the wrong thing or something. I have no lingerie, no cute undies (I think I have one plain black pair but they’re still granny panties) so I’m thinking I’ll just go commando in my cute new jeans and wear the orange crochet lace top I sewed a few years ago. I’m not sure if I want to go sans bra or not. I know the hostess, and I’ve met a few of the other guests a few times but mostly its going to be people I don’t know at all. But so far all the kink-minded people I’ve met have been amazing. Kind, respectful, and friendly. So we’ll see.
Saturday I’m going to another party thrown by a friend’s parents. There will be people of all ages there, and most of them I won’t know. But I’m looking at it as another chance to meet people and maybe meet interesting people. I know some of them are kink-oriented as well to varying degrees.
Next Wednesday I have a tentative date in the planning with a man I met online, and possibly another one for the following Saturday. I’m excited and I’m nervous and I’m trying not to freak out. I could really use my therapist through this, but after I see her tomorrow, I won’t see her for almost a month. I would also like to try to plan something with the guy who flaked on me again, but I’m not sure that’s going to happen. He’s been a bit distant lately online.
Anyway, we’ll see how it all goes and hopefully at worst, I’ll have a good story to tell.
I get messages from all sorts of people, usually in the middle of the night. This conversation comes from a particularly Douchey McDouchebag. Read on…