Divorced Kat Swipes Right and Finds Love Again

My one-year anniversary with Rick is tomorrow, which inspired me to write a long-overdue blog entry about my love life.

In 2014, I was at peace with my divorce and ready to find a relationship. Who knows, maybe I would even find love!

After my divorce, I really had no clue about what I wanted from a relationship (other than sex, meaning I wanted some). I dated a mix of men, ranging in age and education and profession. With each man, I gained new insight into what I did and did not want from a relationship. But alas, nothing lasted more than a couple of weeks.

2015 started off promising with Ryan, but he did not want a relationship -- with anyone, period. Blue and single again, I wasted a few weeks seeing Mike, a charming but spoiled d-bag who ultimately just wanted to get laid.

(I believe there's nothing wrong with just getting laid, but I was not looking for just that anymore. I wanted heart.)

A few weeks after ghosting Mike, I was definitely bored and a tad discouraged with dating. However, I still had Tinder on my phone because it's free and a good way to pass the time when standing in line at Target. Out of millions of profiles featuring stupid bathroom selfies and poses with tigers, I swiped right on Rick. He looked cute and normal and he did not have a urinal in his photos.

He later messaged me, "Hello Kat!"

I thought, meh, OK, why not? We chatted through Tinder for a bit, then he asked me to continue the conversation over a drink.

I thought, meh, why not? I agreed to meet him on Monday night for a glass of wine.

I have written before about how you rarely know when
you're in a moment that will change your life. 

This was one of those moments:
I had no idea that I was about to meet the man I would fall in love with.

From the moment we met on April 27, 2015, we were intrigued by one another. I was immediately drawn to his openness, warmth, and honesty. Despite our respective histories of dating flops, booty calls, and heartaches, we both felt something different this time. I think we both believed that the potential for something real was worth risking getting hurt.

I am grateful everyday for our bravery to go after love.

It has been a year (my second longest relationship, behind only the one with Max) and we never run out of stuff to talk about. We are open about absolutely everything, from our past indiscretions to our future aspirations. Rick values my opinion and truly cares about what I have to say. He is still making me laugh and blush just as much as he did a year ago. He makes me feel incredibly sexy and beautiful. And holy shit you guys, I am having the best sex of my life! (Yes, better than The Incredible Sex!) From my heart to my mind to my body, Rick handles me as if I came with an instruction book. So cool.

But sometimes he makes me mad. Unlike in my past relationships, I permit myself to argue with him. Once it's over I am amazed at how good it feels to let myself express those feelings and have him hear me out. (I always used to keep those feelings bottled up nice and tight!) We learn what we can from the argument and move on. No grudges, which is kind of miraculous because I'm awesome at holding grudges.

When Rick holds me,
I close my eyes and caress his skin,
smell his scent,
feel his breath.

I'm content.

I think, this is it. This is love.
This is what everyone wishes for.

(Did I love my ex-husband? Yes, of course I did, and he loved me as best as he could. But frankly what I felt with Max was never like what I feel now.)

And, while Rick and I have been falling more in love everyday, I have been falling for someone else too: his daughter.

For many years, I have not been sure about motherhood. I knew I loved kids, but did not know if I was cut out for such a high-stakes responsibility, especially if I were to go it alone.

Lucky for me, Rick's 10-year-old daughter and I have gotten along incredibly well right from the beginning. I love the role I am playing in her life. Coupling my own opinions and experiences as well as research (The Career Girl's Guide to Being a Stepmom; Love Him, Love His Kids), I am working with Rick to shape my role as his child's potential stepmom. I am so excited (but rather terrified too) about this unexpected move into (step)motherhood.

Like her father, Rick's daughter tells me she loves me and wants to know when the heck I'm going to marry her dad. (All in good time! I tell her.) I don't know how I got so lucky to be compatible with both the man and his daughter.

The best thing about my adoration for Rick and his daughter is the authenticity. I promised to stay true to myself in my next relationship, and I believe that all three of us are being ourselves. Amazing how being true to myself has led to the most awesome love I could've hoped for -- but never expected!

So what is next for us?

I hope we get married. (Can you believe I'm saying this?!)

I hope to officially become a stepmom.

I hope that we create a home that is disciplined but forgiving, honest but considerate, orderly but flexible.

...but I must insist on patience.

I do still have those lingering divorcee fears ("I was wrong once, what if I'm wrong again?). I recognize that it'll be a huge change for all of us to officially live together. And especially since there is a child involved, we need to extra careful that marriage is right for all of us. But I am confident in myself and my love with Rick that we will thoughtfully find the best path for the three of us.

As I reflect on one year with Rick, I am so very blessed to have the love that Rick and I have. It only took 35 years, one divorce, dozens of lame dates, and one life-changing swipe right to find it.

A Horse Wins a Race, A Guy Wins My Heart

I am 35 years old and I have only been someone’s girlfriend twice in my life.

The first time was in 1998. I was a senior in high school and dating Dave, an absolute sweetheart. I lost my virginity to him the summer before we went away to college. We stayed together until Spring Break of freshman year when the distance between our universities just made things too hard.

The second time was in 2005. I remember the moment when we addressed it. Max and I were driving to a professional basketball game after dating for a couple of months. Because I loathe uncertainty, I had to ask, “If someone asked me if I had a boyfriend, I should say ‘yes,’ right?” I chose to ask this while driving over the George Washington Bridge, just to ensure all of my anxiety levels were as high as possible. He looked at me like I had just asked him his name. “I sure hope you would say ‘yes!’” he answered. And that was that. 

If I ever want these, please smack me.

(Three years later, he asked me to marry him, and four years after that I would ask him to divorce me.)

A decade since that moment in the car with my ex-husband (and three years since my marriage died), Rick expressed that he wanted me to be his girlfriend. Whoah.

Unlike with Jason, when I wanted no part of being his girlfriend or any else’s, I actually like Rick too. We have been spending as much time together as we can since we met in the end of April and it’s been great.

When Rick brought up the G-word, I got skittish because that’s what I do. Yes, I’ve been hoping to find a relationship again for awhile now, but I’m one of those people who is perpetually single.

I really like being single. I’m good at it. I know what to expect. I know how to take care of me.

But I also know how wonderful it can be to be in a healthy, balanced relationship. Sure, it’s been long time since I had one of those, but I do remember the early days with Dave and with Max – the cuddling, the handholding, the first birthday spent together, the first road trip. And of course, the joy of sex with someone you really care about.

I told Rick I wasn’t quite ready for the labels yet, but I was getting there. 

I wasn’t seeing anyone else and I found myself thinking about him an awful lot. I felt excited about the possibility of… something… with him. Fortunately, Rick has been wonderfully patient with me every step of the way. He told me that he understood and that he wasn’t going anywhere.

Things changed a couple of days later at Belmont Stakes, the famous horse races.

American Pharaoh Wins the Triple Crown, Rick Wins My Heart

Rick had invited me to join him for the big event. He and his friends are into the racing and betting. Me, on the other hand, well I was tagging along for an excuse to day drink. Oh, and to meet his friends, of course!

I knew absolutely nothing about Belmont or horseracing, which made the day even more exciting for me. We rode two different trains to get out to Belmont Park on Long Island, just outside New York City. When we arrived, I was just in awe.

The facility was huge but still charming, with all kinds of seating both indoors and out. (We were in the Backyard, AKA the cheap seats.) Something about the park felt like a throwback, as if I were in a Disney movie like Mary Poppins. The people watching was incredible! The outfits were Vineyard Vines meets Kentucky Derby. To put it in perspective, there were men wearing seersucker suits and women wearing those huge hats like Kate Middleton wears. The crowd consisted of everything from the super wealthy to the hard up gambling addicts. The energy was palpable as we got closer to American Pharaoh’s shot at winning the Triple Crown.

Given that Rick actually understood what was going on, you would think it would be sort of annoying to be at such a big race with someone as clueless as me. But nope! He proudly introduced me to his two best friends from growing up. As we wandered the grounds, he explained the races and the betting (which was totally intimidating and confusing, hence my gambling all of about $25) so that I might appreciate the madness. And the entire time, Rick held my hand.

I had never seen or done anything like the Belmont Stakes, and I was experiencing it with a kind, loving man who thinks the world of me. How lucky was I?

It was a hell of a day! Even I understood that American Pharaoh’s win was a big deal.  

(Confession: I didn’t get out of my chair to watch that race because I was busy eating a soft pretzel with mustard. I didn’t want all that perfectly good rock salt falling on the ground. My love affair with carbs wins again.)

Much later that night, tired from alcohol and snacks and sun, Rick and I strolled from Penn Station to Grand Central. Hand in hand, I found us talking about my terribly conflicted feelings about motherhood. I won’t share the details of that very personal conversation, but I knew in that moment that things had changed for me. Rick wasn’t just another guy I was dating. This man actually meant something to me. 

It was a big day for a horse, and a big day for this divorcee. 

The next morning, while we laid in bed chatting about nothing in particular with our arms wrapped around each other, Rick paused.

“You are my girlfriend, right?” he asked.

There was only one thing for me to say.

“Yes.”

When was the last time that you realized you were in a new relationship?

The Art Of Dating Someone Who Is Not "My Type"

Well, this is an interesting twist of events.

I like a guy. Like for real. Like we hold hands and have sleepovers and we have made each other dinner. He calls me “baby” and it doesn’t make me throw up in my mouth. And guess who is not freaking out? THIS GIRL!

Because I actually like this guy – and he digs me, too! – I have been really hesitant to write about him here. In my blog world, someone ends up a punchline (e.g., the guy who dumped me because I’m allergic to dogs, the guy I dumped because he baked me brownies and then he gave me flowers).

But it’s exciting to finally feel this way, some 18 months after I decided I was ready to look for a relationship, so, I have to dish to you, dear readers.

You're not my type! Go away!
Wait, come back! I changed my mind.

As you might remember, I had put dating on the backburner, but I kept Tinder and Hinge on my phone because why not? Swiping left and right can be amusing while you’re waiting for your burrito or whatever. So, one night in late April, I ended up chatting with Rick on Tinder. 

Rick does not meet all four of the criteria for dating me:

• Age – My criteria has been maybe a year or two younger or up to 10 years older. He’s 37, so that’s perfect. (And, how weird is this… we have the same birthday!)
• College educated – Sort of. He didn’t finish undergrad. But, since he’s an electrician, he has a ton of related education and certifications. 
• Salary – Hard to say, but he definitely has more expenses than I do, which leads me to . . .
• No roommates – Well, she’s not a roommate. She’s his nine-year-old daughter. Yup, he's a single dad.

No, he wasn’t my usual type, but given that I’ve been single for as long as I have, perhaps my type is worth reevaluating. Rick asked me to continue our conversation over a drink. I said yes.

As I walked into the bar to meet Mr. Tinder, the usual online dating thoughts ran through my head: “Please be cute. Please be smart. Please be normal.”

My dating prayers were answered.

Relief #1 – he looked just like his photos (and he’s actually tall, for real!).  Good, because obviously I thought that he looked cute!

Relief #2 – it was just… easy.

We had a nice mix of small talk and real talk. But the best thing for me was my immediate sense of his warmth. He felt kind and open in a way that you don’t often encounter, especially from a man on a first date.

At the end of our date, he walked me to my car and asked to see me again before I left for my trip to Germany. I agreed. Again, he was not my usual type, but this was fun and so relaxed. He hugged me goodbye, and I got in my car with a big stupid smile on my face. What a gentleman! 

Three days later we met for dinner. Three hours later, he walked me to my car and kissed me in the street. It was a great kiss – that make-me-melt combination of sweet and sexy. I knew I might be getting myself in trouble, and in a good way.

Rick was definitely making me rethink the rules I have been trying to stick to for two years.

Outdoor country concert = best date ever.

Since I returned from my vacation, we have spent as much time together as our schedules (particularly his) allow. Each time that we have hung out, whether it’s date (dinner! bowling! Jason Aldean concert!) or just hanging out at home, we get closer and closer. It’s really cool. I have to admit that despite how very different our lives are (I'm at happy hour while he is coaching his daughter's lacrosse team), we have many similarities in how we view life. We have been able to talk about past relationships (we are both divorced) and our hopes for the future.

Rick is much better at articulating how he feels about me; I’m still guarded. But oh how refreshing to be with a man who is secure enough with himself, his masculinity, and his feelings to be so open! (Ahem, Ryan, take note!) And those other more closed off men were the guys who were "my type" -- at least superficially.

We are both crushing hard. It’s really scary… I have a million questions [fears], particularly because I have never dated someone with a child before. But I'm doing my best to be very present and just go with the flow. 

Next step -- meeting each other's friends. Keep your fingers crossed for me!

By the way, since I’m finally dating someone where I see relationship potential, of course, this means that yesterday Zach contacted me out of the blue to ask me if I wanted to fuck (he never wastes words). Then tonight Jason, the Incredible Sex – who I have not seen in nine months! – texted me to see if I wanted to have a “platonic drink.” I told them both that I’m seeing someone, so no. Much as I love me a good booty call, I would never risk a potential boyfriend for a frivolous fuck or allegedly platonic drink.

Have you dated someone who wasn't your usual type? How did it go?

Time to Stop Wasting My Precious Time on an Unworthy Guy

Do not squander time for that is the stuff life is made of.
-Ben Franklin

I loathe wasting time. Life can be wickedly and deliciously unpredictable, and I want to use every minute I have. There are many things I want to do and people I want to see, which require scheduling; ever since I can remember, when I see an empty space in my calendar, I am inclined to fill it.

I consider myself fortunate to have a job that doesn’t require me to be on call, a couple of extra dollars in the bank that I can choose to waste on my entertainment, an assortment of awesome friends to hang out with, and a healthy body that can exercise (I really appreciate this since my knee injury). So, I can and often do pack seven days a week with fun/fulfilling/intoxicating activities.

This is how I do my life and it works for my type-A self.

With this understanding of my values and personality, I have been struggling a bit the past few weeks. I have been seeing this guy, Mike, and thanks to him, I have realized that being with new people, particularly when dating, means gambling my most precious commodity. Sure, sometimes it pays off, but what if the guy sucks? That time spent with him could have been spent doing something that could have been guaranteed enjoyable time, and therefore my time can feel wasted. I HATE THAT.

(Yes, with an attitude like this one, I probably shouldn't be dating anyone right now. But anyway...)

Gambling My Time with a New Guy

Admittedly, from the start I described Mike as arrogant and spoiled, but also seeming to have a very sweet and generous side. So, why not give him a few tries?

A couple of dates later I was bored of hearing him talk about how super he was. I decided he was a good kisser but kind of a dick so I wanted out. I told him thanks but no thanks. Well, his response was so sweet that I completely second guessed myself and said nevermind, let's keep hanging out! This was extremely unlike me -- I'm usually quite decisive, almost to a fault.

What made me start accepting that Mike was not worthy of my time was when being with Mike meant losing time with people I care about.

A few days ago, I was hanging out with Pete and his best friend Kyle. These two guys have the most genuine bromance you have ever seen, so I love hanging out with them. (As a sidenote, I have a killer crush on Kyle, but of course he lives seven hours away. But I digress.) We spent a Sunday drinking bloody marys, eating french fries, and telling stupid stories about each other and just laughing a ton.

But, because I'm a compulsive calendar filler, I had plans to see Mike that evening. After Pete teased the hell out of me for double booking my Sunday, I had to tear myself away from him and Kyle. 

As I drove to Mike’s, all I could think was how much I was enjoying my minutes with Pete and Kyle, and now I was trading those minutes to be with a guy I was lukewarm about.

I was right. My time with Mike was fine, but whatever. My time with Pete and Kyle was great.

I gambled and I lost.

I saw Mike last night. I could have come home after my volunteering commitment and written a long overdue blog entry. I could have read for book club. I could have thrown in a load of laundry, caught up on People magazine, or gone to bed early. I could have done a bazillion other things that would have made me feel happy and/or productive. Instead, I spent a few hours with a guy who wasn’t that good of a match for me. I am now certain he isn’t going to be my boyfriend. And he was totally trying to pressure me in to having sex. What is this, West Beverly Hills High School?!

Why the hell did I bother? In my gut, I've known all along this wasn't a person I should choose to share my time with.

Again, I gambled and lost.

I’m done seeing Mike. He’s not worth the gamble.

“For what it’s worth, I think we could’ve been a cool couple.”

“For what it’s worth, I think we could’ve been a fucking cool couple.” 

I'm going to go tease my hair and
sing into a fan until I feel better.

And then we hung up.

But I know you want to hear more about The Talk, so let’s start there.

Last week, Ryan came over (finally) to discuss what had been going on with us. He had been pulling away, and I assumed – correctly – that the idea of a relationship for a man who says he’s never really had one was too scary/unappealing/boring/suffocating/fill in your own negative adjective.

We sat on my couch, the site of our first kiss, and we had a remarkably respectful and mature conversation. 

The exchange took an hour and looked something like this:

Him: I am fine with how things are.

Me: I know we are still getting to know each other, but I like the idea of being open to the possibility of things progressing.

Him: I know you’re looking for a relationship.

Me: I’m look for a relationship with the right person. I’m interested in the idea of one with you, not because you have a pulse, but because you’re you and I like what I know so far.

Him: I don’t think I’m going to get there. I don’t want to string you along and have it be two, three months down the road and nothing has progressed.

Me: Well if that is how you’re going to come at things, then that is exactly what will happen. I’m not in any rush for anything relationship-wise, but things cannot be stagnant either. I know you haven’t had much relationship experience. Other than being married, neither do I, oddly enough. So let me ask you: Have you been enjoying our time together, hanging out, talking, having sex, the whole thing?

Him: Yes, definitely. And when I go out, I’m not looking to meet anyone else.

Me: So, why not try doing things differently from how you’ve done them in the past? Why not trying on for size the possibility of seeing where things go with me? I have a life, so do you, and dating isn’t a threat to that. It could be fun!

Silence.
(Crap.)

After an hour of me making excellent points (if I do say so myself) and him essentially saying he doesn’t want a relationship, we agreed to take some time to think. Later, I texted him, thanking him for coming over and being honest. He responded that he would not play games with me, and I said that I knew he wouldn’t, and neither would I.

So, I asked myself: could I just leave things as they are? Like I said, I’m not in any rush to find me a baby daddy or anything. But, over the weekend, I thought about my other relationships.

I love people. When you are my family member, my friend, whoever, I want to just care about you. I don’t know how to express my affection for others under any sort of limitation, and that is exactly what I would be agreeing to with Ryan. I cannot do that.

Ryan and I didn’t communicate much over the weekend, and then on Sunday he suggested that we “touch base” on Monday. Dammit. That tiny unrealistic romantic in me, the part that is secretly sad when couples from The Bachelorette break up, was hoping that maybe by some miracle Ryan would come to his senses and realize how idiotic it is to walk away from a person you connect with on so many levels. But you wouldn’t make a romantic confession like that when you “touch base.”

So, on Monday, true to his word, we "touched base." We talked for four minutes while I cooked fajitas. I asked him if we had come to the same conclusion. He said yes, and reiterated that he didn’t want it to be two, three months down the road and I would feel like he wasted me time or led me on. (Interesting fixation he has on this specific time period.) I said I didn't know how to restrict the way I'm going to care about a person.

Then, I said this was disappointing, but I accepted it. “But, Ryan, for what it’s worth, I think we could’ve been a fucking cool couple.”

(Yes, I used to the F-word. Seemed to drive my point home.)

And then we said we would see each other around town. Bye.

I put my phone down on my kitchen counter and sighed.

I have known all along that this was a very likely possibility. He’s 44 and never had a relationship; by his own admission, he’s never had his heart broken. Clearly, this is a man who, for whatever reason, will not allow himself get emotionally intimate with a woman. For the past two weeks, I could see the writing on the wall, so this was hardly shocking.

But as I stirred my fajitas, I got that telltale lump in my throat. What the hell is this? A few tears slid down my cheeks.

What? I’m crying over a guy? Well. Isn't this interesting.

Of all the guys I have gone out with, through the various ups and downs and men disappearing, this was the first time I cried over a guy. Ryan was the first guy that I was actually floored at times by how much we had in common. Then I had wondered if he’d be too tame in the bedroom, and I was wrong – we were super compatible there too! I mean, this was finally a guy where I could really, truly see something happening.

Keeping it real with emotionally unavailable men in their 40s.

But nothing was going to happen.

Not because he didn’t like me – I could accept that better because I’m fully aware that I’m not for everyone and that’s OK.

Nothing was going to happen because he simply will not allow his heart to open that far.

How very sad.

So, I called Jen. With my mouth full of fajita and my tear ducts filled to the brim, I babbled for a few minutes, and like the good friend she is, she listened and assured me that I did nothing wrong, my time with Ryan was fun while it lasted, and it would be OK.

I wiped my tears away. Then I fired off a bunch of texts to tell the masses, and they all responded with the love and support I knew they would provide. 

So, I’m still feeling a little blue and I miss him already. But I’m OK because I’m proud that I stuck to my motto of keeping an open heart and an open mind while also keeping my eyes open. I saw the signs that he would probably pull away, and I didn’t pretend that they weren’t there. I didn’t downplay my readiness for a relationship just to appease him. I really enjoyed my time with Ryan, and when I’m ready to date again, the right person will be out there.

And in the meantime, I'll play some 1980s ballads and sing at the top of my lungs in my car. Total Eclipse of the Heart, anyone?

What was your last breakup like? How do you feel about the way you conducted yourself?

I'm Not Afraid to Walk Away From A Guy I Really Like

I am ready for a relationship, and I don’t apologize for it. Hell, I'm proud of it! It’s taken a lot of post-divorce healing/therapy/yoga plus a healthy dose of pointless – but fun! – dating. I know I’m ready and emotionally healthy enough to open my heart to a man… but he must earn and be worthy of something so precious.

I really like Ryan, the guy I've been seeing since December. I see so much potential for a relationship with him, more so than with anyone else I have dated since I got divorced two years ago. But for all the ways that Ryan and I are compatible in our personalities, lifestyles, and even sexual styles, none of it matters in the slightest if we don’t both want a relationship right now -- not eventually, not next month, right now.

Last week, after days of my doubting and questioning (and a long overdue trip to my therapist), I decided that maybe I’d been a crazy female. I needed to chill the fuck out and just enjoy.

So, when Ryan and I spent last Friday night together, it was lovely. We got takeout, snuggled, watched a movie, had hot sex, and slept together. He held my hand, he called me babe. The next morning, we got breakfast together (bagels!!!). I was loving it. All felt boyfriend-y. It felt nice and real.

But, I asked if he wanted to come to my friend’s birthday drinks that evening, and he said he had already made plans. That is fine of course, and actually very attractive that he has a life. But, it dawned on me that in all the weeks that we have been hanging out, he has never once suggested I meet his friends or coworkers. Not that I need to meet his best friend yet, but even a casual, “come meet us out for happy hour” type thing.

Then on Sunday, I asked if he wanted to just hang out, super low key, in a close the gap between Dating and Relationship type way. He said yes… then an hour later, he said no, he just wanted to chill (read: alone). The big "ouch" factor was that he didn’t ask when I would be free in the week.

We hung up and then I realized, I can do better than this. 

I like Ryan a lot, but I’m not interested in hovering in this almost-a-relationship-but-not-quite territory indefinitely. I do think he likes both my personality and appearance, but I have felt him slowly throw up a wall the past few weeks. I don't know why, and I'm not particularly interested in playing armchair shrink to find out. If he doesn’t want a relationship, I completely understand and respect that (I've been there!), but I also respect myself enough to walk away.

So, I called Ryan back. I said, “I’d like us to get together and talk about what’s been going on between us. Are you free tomorrow?” (Totally stole this approach from this article.)

He agreed, and we were supposed to meet last night, which is why I was holding off on this blog post. However, the faux blizzard hit our area, so The Talk is postponed until tomorrow Thursday.

I recognize that in all likelihood, this will be our kiss-off, which super sucks. But we need to talk so I can stop guessing, and we can either move forward together or go our separate ways.

The bitch of all relationships, whether platonic or romantic, is that you have to want the same thing at the same time for the relationship to work. I have learned that I must be loyal to myself, first and foremost. I don’t settle for subpar relationships with anyone, so why start with someone who I want to date?

(And next week, I'll obviously dish on what happened during The Talk.)

Have you had to walk away from someone you were enjoying dating but felt you wanted different things?

What Happened When I Got Brave About Forging New Relationships

Is your wedding ring off, like really off, not even trying it on once in awhile when no one’s around? Are you past the point of bursting into tears driving home from work? Are you curious to see what dating will be like?

Perhaps you’re ready to Put Yourself Out There, one of those platitudes that divorce/single people have to hear. A lot.

I know it’s really scary to take the padlock off of your battered heart and bruised ego to let new people in, but let me tell you  -- it’s worth it.

I got to thinking about this because of last weekend. I hung out with lots of new people – we’re talking four girls on Friday, six girls on Saturday, and two guys on Sunday. Only one of these people had I hung out with more than a few times. I thoroughly enjoyed each day and each new person I met.

As I walked home Sunday night, quite amused and pleased with how my weekend had transpired, I thought of a great compliment that Nora recently gave me:

“You have a cool life, and you did it yourself.
I have a great life with my husband, but I share the credit with him.
But your life, your new friends, your condo… that’s all you.”

I hadn’t thought about things that way, but she is right! My divorce was finalized almost two years ago. The way I have set up my life is all my doing, and one of the coolest parts has been the new people I’ve been meeting, thanks to Putting Myself Out There.

When I think back on my years with Max, I was putting so much effort into trying to save our fledgling relationship that I had no extra energy for forging new relationships. Hell, I am fortunate that I didn’t lose any friends during this difficult time.

Since I have been free of my troubled marriage, I am proud to say that I have been Out There plenty. Sometimes it has paid off beautifully, and other times it has ended in heartache. 

In the past year, yes, I have done a lot of dating. (In fact, I counted and I kissed 13 people in 2014. Yes, I’m secretly 16 years old and I make lists like this.) I have had some wonderful highs from the early days of dating when you see much promise, and I have had the sting of having it collapse and you have no idea why. After years of rejection from my ex-husband, I have FINALLY had some great sexual experiences with both guys I have liked and guys who are just my Special Friends. I’m coming into my own in the sack – better late than never!

Admittedly, parts of dating have made me want to hide under my bed or swear off men entirely. But I’m so proud of myself for experimenting with dating, even now while I hover in the gap with Ryan. (Sadly, I think our days are numbered, but I’m trying to be brave and not sabotage what’s still there.) Eventually, I will find love again, but that will only happen if I stay Out There.

But it’s not just in my dating life where I have taken emotional risks. I have made new friends since I moved back to Ford in 2013. I was already blessed to have wonderful friends in my life, but there is something to be said for challenging my heart and mind with new company. These days, I do not shy from building new friendships with women and men. I have taken friendly acquaintances and elevated them. Or, when I meet someone who I think will enrich my life, I seize the moment. I ask for the person’s phone number and suggest getting together. Sure, some of those phone numbers end up eventually getting deleted from my phone, but in plenty of cases I have formed new friendships, such as Yoshi, Mandy, and Meredith.

When I think about how I want my life to look, I truly feel like I’m on the right track. Unlike when I was married and sinking energy into a doomed relationship, it’s empowering and exciting to expend energy on cultivating healthy relationships.  

So, thank you Nora, I will take total credit for this cool life of mine, thanks to Putting Myself Out There!

What changes have you seen in your life from Putting Yourself Out There?

How Do You Cross the Gap From "Dating" to "Relationship"? (Answer: I have no clue.)

I’m really good at first and second dates. Hell, I’m pretty solid on the third date, upon the rare occasion that I have one. I know just enough about current events and sports headlines so I make conversation easy for both of us. I will wear a feminine outfit but I still leave something to the imagination. I smile and laugh just enough without seeming like a bimbo. I’ll totally kiss you but I won’t invite you in.

Fast forward past the awkwardness of meeting each other's best friend and farting in front of each other for the first time....

I’m really good at being a long-term girlfriend/fiancée/wife. I get along with (most) people so you can bring me to family functions or your best friend’s wedding and I’ll be fine. I’ll email your mom. I’ll surprise you with your favorite cookie or a card for no reason. I’ll remind you to get a physical and I will totally understand how stressful playoff football can be.

I’m really not good at the post-first dates but pre-relationship gap. 

On this side I can have first dates and no strings attached sex.
On that side I could get my feelings hurt.
Tough choice.

It’s this thrilling and terrible place where you’re getting genuinely excited about the person you’re seeing while also starting to get more comfortable with him. You start having sex. You might start meeting each other’s friends. Things are uncertain – this seemingly great guy could just disappear (trust me, this BS happens) or we could fall in love someday.

In other words, it’s official: you like this guy (yay!), so your feelings could get hurt (shit!).

The gap is a scary place to be.

I Got Dumped the Last Time I Was in the Gap

In my 17 months of dating since my divorce, I have only gotten into the gap one other time, almost exactly a year ago with Aaron.

We dated for a few weeks. We went out, we stayed in. We laughed a lot. We started sleeping together; it was a very strange experience to have sex with someone I actually liked. Just as we were slipping into the gap, he started losing interest in me or he saw something shiny that he liked more or whatever. Eventually, I had to make him dump me.

I was pretty disappointed at the time, but interestingly I never cried over him. I thought there was Boyfriend Potential there, at least for a couple of months. But of course in hindsight I realize that as sweet and cute and hot in bed as Aaron was, he was just wasn’t it. After that letdown, I took a nice long break from dating to lick my wounds. (I’m a big believer in the post-rejection hiatus from dating.)

Ever since, it's just been casual or only a couple of dates here and there, until I met Ryan in November.

Tumbling into the Gap with Ryan

Ryan (the 44-year-old with no relationship history) and I have been seeing each other for a month but talking for about two months.

In his low key but genuine way, Ryan has made it clear that he likes me, all of me, from my curly hair to my love for my book club to my ability to easily orgasm. We have mutually agreed to monogamy. But, as of the last week or so, as I am realizing that I actually like this guy, I’m getting so insecure (and being mindful to hide it).

It seems illogical to get insecure now. We had a fantastic date on Friday – a romantic dinner, followed by fun drinks at our favorite Irish pub, and concluded with some amazing sex and then falling asleep in each other’s arms. Ahhhh! Awesome. Yesterday, he came over for dinner. I attempted to make Boy Food, which is a little hard for my health-conscious vegetarian cooking. But I came through with macaroni and cheese with a side of roasted broccoli. Then, yeah, more sex. Woohoo!

Shit, I realized on Friday night, I'm back in the gap.

The gap turns me into this neurotic, over analyzing shell of myself. The good news is that I’m able to mostly keep her hidden. But damn does she make me feel nuts!

Plotting My Escape From the Gap

So yeah, the gap scares me and renders me totally annoying. I don’t like it there, even though it could be just part of my journey to finding love again.

Today, when Ryan didn’t text me (he always texts me!), my head was ready to explode as it filled with self doubt. Meanwhile, the 23-year-old texted me (“Want to fool around?” No subtleties there!). Then, one of the hottest guys to EVER show interest in me finally got around to texting me over the weekend and then asked me out today. Yes, both today, and when I hadn’t heard from Ryan.

I could avoid the possibility of getting hurt entirely by accepting the fuck date or the dinner date. Or both...!

I admit that I was tempted. I’m good at being a first date or a fuck buddy – both have lots of laughing and little to no emotional risk.

But wait. What the fuck am I thinking?

Is the risk of getting hurt more powerful than the possibility of finding love? I don't want to be that kind of person. I want to always hope for the best, which means seeking love from platonic and romantic relationships, and, yes, risking getting hurt. 

Based on what I know so far, Ryan is the best match for me of any guy I have dated since my divorce. Hell, based on what I know so far, Ryan is a better match for me than my ex-husband.

I’m not going to chicken out and fuck this up for no good reason. I declined both offers.

I am going to tolerate my quiet hysteria in the gap with the hope that Ryan and I might cross over into Relationship territory. If he is the right match for me and vice versa, we will pass through the gap together. If Ryan (or whoever) is not the right person for me, the sooner that can be revealed to me, the better for both of us, and back I go to being a great first date.

Whew. Did you like the pep talk I just gave myself? And can you please say it back to me the next time I'm being an insecure idiot?!

(By the way, while I was writing this, Ryan texted me.)

Your turn, dear reader! Does my reaction to the gap sound familiar to you or completely nuts? Have you ever considered a little self-sabotage to avoid getting hurt? 

In the Dating World, Which is Worse: "Divorced" or "Single and Never Married"?

I used to fear that my “Divorced” label would make people – especially potential suitors – judge me. Commitment issues. Baggage. Damaged goods.

Recently I have been wondering about the implications of the “Single and Never Married” label. Commitment issues? Baggage? Unemotional psycho?

Yes. This. Always!
...but, can you be too single? 

This is weighing on my mind because of the new guy I’m seeing. Here’s the scoop.

I met Ryan in early November at a happy hour with a mutual friend. He was in town making final arrangements for his cross-country move back to Ford. (We had actually lived in Ford at the same time several years ago.) We hit it off so he got my number. Over the next three or four weeks while he packed up his life out West, we texted a little, and then more and more. By the time he arrived back in Ford in early December, we were in contact daily.

A few days after his return, Ryan and I met for drinks; he was cuter than I remembered. Yes! Next date was dinner, complete with him picking me up, opening the car door for me, and ordering for both of us. For our next date, he came over for takeout and a movie, which obviously led to some making out. He CALLED ME (did you know that people still do that?) on Christmas Day, just to wish me a merry Christmas. We have hung out several more times – including New Year’s Eve and my small post-birthday gathering.

Sidenote: I’m 35 now. A grownup in her mid-30s. WTF. Moving on!

Ryan meets all four of the basic criteria for dating me:

1. He is college educated.
2. He makes as much or more money than I do. 
3. He’s nine years older than me.
4. He lives alone.

But there's more!

Conversation is natural and genuine. He likes to write!! He is totally a grownup with a real job and a nice apartment but he also likes to smoke a little weed here and there. (This combination is hard to find and I'm a huge fan.) I like how he dresses and he wears cool glasses. He remembers everything I say, including dumb shit like my love for The Bachelorette. He gets along well with his family, including his sisters. The physical chemistry is hot; I know this is important to anyone, but it’s crucial for me to uncover as soon as possible based on the demise of my marriage.

Yes, so far, things are pretty… normal, and I mean that in the very best way! Things with Ryan are just relaxed and enjoyable. I must say, it’s exciting and fun and scary to actually like a guy again. I’m not seeing anyone else. Last time this happened was with Aaron a year ago!

But here’s the thing you guys… Ryan is 44-years-old and has the Single and Never Married label. It seems he hasn’t even had a big relationship! Fair or not, his lack of relationship history raises eyebrows.

Could this be why a person is perpetually single?

Part of me finds his lack of relationship experience very appealing. We are on the same page that being single is not bad – in fact, it can be terrific if you’re at peace with your life and choices. I like that he isn’t one of those people who needs to be in a relationship just to be in a relationship. (After all, I have only really had two boyfriends in my life: the guy I lost my virginity to in 1998 and then my ex-husband, who I started dating in 2005.) Presumably, Ryan has less baggage so there are fewer ghosts of ex-girlfriends for me to battle.

On the other hand, I find his lack of relationship experience a little disconcerting. I’m all for being independent and not “needing” a relationship, but what about choosing to be brave enough to have your heart open? What about experiencing the terrifying thrill of being vulnerable to the person you love? Does he know what it’s like to have sex with someone you love so much that you feel like you could just burst? Does he know how to stay by a woman's side for more than a couple of weeks or months?

Then, I think of my ex-husband, who might be in the dating world. Max is attractive, smart, has a real job, and, OK, he has the Divorced label. Otherwise, he seems like quite a catch. Max is a catch… if you aren’t into physical or emotional intimacy. 

Superficially speaking, Max could seem like a better potential boyfriend than Ryan, but you and I both know how very wrong Max ended up being for me.

What do you think, dear reader? Is assuming commitment or other dating issues from the Single and Never Married person any more justified than from the Divorced person?

Is it a red flag for a person to be in his or her 40s (or whatever age you pick) with no real relationship experience? Would you assume the person is weird/overly picky/commitment phobic? 

Or would you view the person as a sort of clean slate, free of the messiness of past love and heartache and patient enough to wait for the real deal?

Dating, Getting Dumped, and Having Incredible Sex: My Top 10 Posts of 2014

On this last day of 2014, I thank you for hanging out with me for another year of my life post-divorce, including reliving old pain with my ex, my happy times with friends and family, and my search for hot sex and love, preferably from the same person.

In the grand tradition of all kinds of media at year-end, here's my very own list of my 10 most read posts of 2014.

10. My Return to Online Dating -- Too Dull, Too Exciting, and Just Right

In January, I went full force into the wild world of online dating.

9.  One Year Later: Why I Love My Divorce

I counted my blessings on the first anniversary of my divorce.

8.  Incredible Sex is Turning Me Into an Asshole

I was intoxicated from Incredible Sex with a guy who was wrong, wrong, and more wrong for me. But DAMN the sex was hot...

7.  Keeping Facebook Photos of Your Ex -- Just Documenting the Past or Harming Your Future?

Is it so bad to keep Facebook pics of you and your ex?

6.  What Should A Blogger Do When Her Identity is Revealed?

The guy I was seeing found out about my blog. Shit.

5.  I Want My Ex-Husband When I'm Not Fully Conscious

Ever woken up in the middle of the night and wished your bed weren't empty?

4.  Why Silence Makes Me Scream

Want to break my heart and make me lose my mind? Then, please, don't say a word.

3.  I Got Optimistic About A Guy. Now I Feel Stupid.

Two fantastic dates and then... he disappeared.

2.  7 Steps to Getting Dumped While Still Looking Like a Grownup

If you're going to date, you're going to get dumped sometimes, so here's how I save face.

1.  How to Dump Someone You Aren’t Really Dating

I learned how to nicely dump people after my non-dates because even morons and bad kissers have feelings.


Thank you again for reading, commenting, and sharing your perspectives! A very happy 2015 to you!

Why Do Guys Who Dumped Me Come Back to Apologize?

As I look back on my dating experiences in 2014, I have discovered a theme: 

I acted too hastily. I’m sorry.

I was selfish. I’m sorry.

I regret letting it end like that. I’m sorry.

No, I'm not the one apologizing -- it's the dudes I've dated. I have had it up to my ass with I’m sorry!

I have been single for less than two years, and only really been dating for one, but I think it’s safe to say I am back in the dating game. I’ve gone out with all kinds of kinds, from the vegan who didn’t drink to the former Navy man to the pot smoking bartender. I’ve gone out with guys seven years younger to 10 years older.

Here is what I don’t get: 

Why do guys keep coming back to apologize?

Andrew probably didn't expect my response. Tough noogies.
(His misuse of "literally" is so not hot.)

In the past year, Todd, John, Aaron, one of the 27-year-olds, and just on Saturday, Andrew have all come back around to apologize for their unique versions of ditching me.

(If you’re keeping track, Carl is the only one who has not. But I told him that he hurt my feelings and made me feel stupid, so he avoids eye contact with me now. I probably won’t be getting a late night text apology any time soon!)

Somewhere between a few weeks and few months after The End, my phone has chirped to reveal an out-of-the-blue text message, usually from a contact who I’ve deleted from my phone, saying "blah blah I’m sorry."

Sometimes they wanted another chance to date me, sometimes they just wanted to clear their conscience. And who knows, maybe some of them just wanted to get in my pants.

None of the breakups/male disappearances were all that dramatic. I never shed one tear over any of them. When shit ended, I might’ve expressed disappointment (if I even had the opportunity), but that is about it. My point is, certainly no guy I’ve dated since my divorce ever walked away from me thinking he’d broken my heart or scarred me for life or turned me into a bunny boiler.

So there’s me, gaping at my phone. 

An apology, after all this time…
do I even care?

Fine, I admit it. My ego loves the apologies. I’m like, hells yeah, you realize that I am kind of awesome and now you’re missing out!

The downside is that I’m often tempted to recycle, and recycling DOES NOT WORK! I know this. You know this. And yet I sometimes try again (see: Todd; John; and most recently Aaron). By the way, recycling for sex/booty call purposes is different and totally acceptable (see: Jason).

Again, I’ve only really been dating for about a year, but I feel like this is an abnormal amount of apologies. Do you agree?

But, the more mystifying question is just why these dudes apologize to me? 

No one has really owed me much of an apology – like no guy has been guilty of more than being an idiot with me. Do their apologies say something solid about my character, that they want to win back my respect? or do I remind them of their guilty-dishing mothers? Or maybe I’m just good enough in the sack that they want to take a shot? (Not that I slept with all of the apology distributors, but they could use their imaginations based on the data they collected.)

What is your experience with former flames apologizing?  And can you shed any light on my experience?!

Why Did I Dump A Smart, Cute Guy Who Thought I Was Super?

"Wanna go out, Kat? I'll drive!"

After weeks of texting  and FaceTime chats with Lucas, we finally saw each other again.

Last Sunday and then again on Friday, Lucas came over. (I’m still in a leg brace while my broken kneecap heals, so I can’t really go anywhere.) We ate takeout, we watched 80s movies. He held my hand, he kissed me good night. He said he wanted to see me again – and soon. 

After he left on Friday I just knew. I was sure of it! So, today, I told him:

“I have really enjoyed getting to know you the past few weeks, but I don’t feel that we are quite the right match for dating.”

Bummer, right?!

Why didn’t I feel that Lucas and I were the right match? He seemed to meet the Requirements for Dating Me. He is tall with a great smile, has earned not one but TWO master’s degrees, and thought I was super.

Don’t tell anyone, but I’m a grownup.  After months of dating guys who were too young for me, I want to date a grownup. I mean it.

Once my relationship with Lucas moved from texting and FaceTime to real life, I discovered that he was a 23-year-old trapped in a 33-year-old’s body:

1. Lucas sleeps like a 23-year-old. He prides himself on sleeping until 11 or 12 on the weekends, then takes a nap around 2. By noon on a weekend, I will have gone running and/or attended a yoga class, cooked and ate breakfast while watching a rerun of Beverly Hills 90210, and folded a load of laundry.
2. Lucas drinks like a 23-year-old. Lucas described a night out with a friend as awesome because he got “shitfaced.” His social activities seem to revolve around his quest for getting wasted, including Thursday nights.
   If you’ve ever read my blog, you know that I enjoy kissing, exercising, and drinking. I very much enjoy alcohol, but really it’s that I like spending time and talking with others; a glass of wine in hand complements the experience nicely. Sure, sometimes I do get drunk. But I have not gone out specifically seeking “shitfaced” status in about a decade. BECAUSE I’M A GROWNUP.
3. Lucas dates like an (inconsiderate) 23-year-old. The two times he came over, he was wearing a random t-shirt and jeans. Yes, I was in drawstring pants (thank you, leg brace), but I had on a cute top and makeup! Effort, you guys, I expect a man to put in a little effort if he is going to date me.
   But here’s the kicker. Before he came over on Friday, he asked me if I liked plum wine. I said I wasn’t sure, but I don’t usually like sweet wine. He said I wouldn’t know unless I tried it. Fair enough (but a touch condescending, no?). So what did he do that night? He showed up with ONE bottle of wine – the plum wine – which lo and behold, I hated. His solution was to suggest I open one of my bottles of wine. I had one glass as he proceeded to drink almost the entire bottle of his gross plum wine.
   Oh, and I should also mention that I paid for our takeout and he never said thank you. Rude and tacky.

Last but not least, I did not like the way he kissed.  Oh HELLS no.

I love to kiss way too much to settle for a guy whose kissing style
is inspired by Hannbal Lecter.

Funny how a guy could have seemed like he had such potential over text and FaceTime until real life revealed how incompatible we actually are.

(And no, he did not reply to my "thanks but no thanks" text.)

In the meantime, let’s hope this damn leg brace comes off when I go to the doctor tomorrow! I am so over sweatpants, unshaven legs, and sleeping motionless flat on my back.

Have you ever thought someone could be a good match for dating in the virtual world until the real world wrecked it?

My Great Date Didn't Require A Bra or Shoes

Two days before I broke my kneecap, I had met Lucas for a non-date [Kat's term for meeting someone from a dating website in person for the first time]. We met for a beer on a Sunday night and chatted and laughed for about two hours. It was fun, but I wasn’t positive if he would ask me out again. Well, he did!

But, yeah, then I went and broke my kneecap. FYI,  a full leg brace and crutches are not conducive to dating. I walk like your grandmother while wearing giant sweatpants and two different shoes. I’m totally the stuff of fantasies.

I thought for sure that Lucas (and my other friends with benefits, such as Aaron) would disappear from my life while I retreated to my parents’ house to recover.

Well, remarkably, Lucas didn’t want to disappear. Over texting, I tried to give him an out so he wouldn’t have to feel guilty about cutting things off with the girl on crutches for weeks. He assured me that, no, he didn’t want an out and he wanted to keep getting to know me. I texted back that I was cool with that... but we couldn’t just text for weeks.

So... I asked him on a date.

I Go On A Date Without Leaving My Couch 

This is a good of example of how I did not look for my
FaceTime date.

The Friday after I was off of Percocet, Lucas and I planned to meet for a drink.

For the first time since my injury, I applied blush to my pale cheeks and brightened up my eyes with some mascara and eye shadow. I piled my unwashed hair on top of my head in an attempt to look deliberately messy and adorable. I wore a zip-up hooded sweatshirt, XL sweatpants, and one slipper and one shoe. (I can’t wear matching shoes until my knee immobilizer comes off.) I didn't bother putting on a bra. I looked down at my ensemble, part amused and part embarrassed. Normally for a second date, I’d be sporting tight jeans and heels and I'd be adorned with jewelry and some liquid eyeliner. I would wash my hair for a second date. I would brush my teeth and I would definitely wear a bra.

This was not the typical date though.

With my glass of Cabernet in hand, I waited for him to appear. Butterflies fluttered in my gut. I checked the time nervously. I was sure that he would arrive soon...

Then my iPad starting chirping.
FaceTime!

There was Lucas glowing on my iPad, sitting on his couch with his beer, and me on my parents' couch with my wine (my first drink since I fell). For the next hour, we chatted and flirted, and it was almost as fun as meeting in person.

Of course this date was lacking the thrill of touch and smell of being side by side. There was no growing hope of a kiss good night.  But I liked his voice and his smile and his laugh. Over the course of our FaceTime date, I felt more connected to him.

Since then, we have continued getting to know each other over text and we met for another FaceTime date. He tells me he wishes I were home and ambulatory so I could go out with him. It’s funny, I have only met Lucas in real life once, and yet I feel like we’re sort of kind of almost dating. Maybe without the pressure of a real date (What should I wear? Who will pay? Does he know I just farted a little?), we are having a more genuine opportunity to just get to know each other for who we are. No pretense, no distraction, no risk of getting physical too soon.

All of this said, I’m excited – and curious! – to spend time with him in person. Will the fun and flirtation of texting and FaceTime translate to real life? We will find out in seven days…!

(Meanwhile, MORE guys from my past have reappeared, include Jason, John, and even a 27-year-old who blew me off back in May. What the heck is going on?!)

Find out what happened when we were reunited in real life.

Have you ever had a date over FaceTime or Skype? What did you think of the experience?

Is It Ever Worth It to Recycle a Former Flame?

I always say not to recycle guys, but it’s a hard rule to follow. When a guy you found fun and attractive comes back around saying he regretted how he handled things with you, it’s really hard to say, “Sorry, I only recycle paper, plastic, glass, and aluminum. Men are not available for recycling.”

Let’s talk about Aaron, a guy I recently kind of tried to recycle.

Aaron and I met on OKCupid and dated for about a month last winter. He was cute and fun. He was good in the kitchen and in the bedroom. We were really enjoying dating each other until he stopped enjoying me. (To this day, I don’t know why, but I think he might have met someone else.) He was a wimp about dumping me, which was totally annoying. I get it, a person can get bored of someone or he meets someone else or whatever. Just man up and tell me “thanks but no thanks” so we can both go our separate ways.

Then, a few weeks later, he contacted me to apologize for how things went down with me. I was surprised and accepted the apology. I thought that was that.

Then, late one night in June, I got a text from an unknown number saying we should get together sometime. I had deleted Aaron from my contacts, but not our last text conversation. Still, what the heck? So I wrote back “Sorry, but who is this?” No answer. Ha!

So, when Aaron got in touch with me at the end of my Dating Diet, literally hours after I got back onto OKCupid, I was surprised indeed.

After a few flirty messages, I agreed to meet him for a drink, though I was totally confused why I was even going. Not recycling guys is a thing with me!

I Recycle Aaron for Dating Purposes

Two days later, I was sitting at the bar when he came on to the patio. Shit. He looked even better than I remembered. And shorter. But hot. Blue eyes, sweet smile, and totally jacked body.

The conversation just flowed naturally. He remembered everything about me, too, which was both charming and flattering. (He even asked if I was still blogging!)

Then he went there...

“So, Kat, what brought you back to OKCupid?” Aaron asked.

“I took a break from online dating for a few months, and I thought I’d give it another shot,” I answered truthfully.

“But the real question is why did you contact me?
Why am I here?”

(Hey, he dated me once, he knows I don’t do bullshit.)

Aaron rather sweetly rambled that he had a lot of fun with me and we all do things we regret and he thought I was cool and the sex was good and when he saw me on OKCupid he had to try contacting me.

“Really, you’re mentioning the sex right now?!” I said, eyebrow raised, kind of incredulous but also admiring his honesty.

“Well,” he said, sheepishly grinning, “It was good.”

I shrugged and nodded. Can’t disagree there!

“So I now know that you’re the one who contacted me in June,” I said bluntly.

“Yeah. You deleted my number?!” Aaron said, looking embarrassed.

“Of course I did. I delete anyone who doesn’t deserve a spot in my phone anymore,” I explained simply.

With all of this out of the way, we went back to chatting and flirting. Aaron paid for our drinks, then walked me back to my car. In the garage, he kissed me.  I leaned up against my ex-husband’s car and let him kiss me more. Oh, MAN, I like kissing him. Being the lady I [sometimes] am, I said good night and got in my car.

I started to drive away, then I turned around. I found him walking to his car.

“Aaron!” I called out my window.

Startled, he looked over, then he smiled. He approached my passenger window. I shook my head and beckoned for him to come to my driver’s side window.

“I decided I wasn’t done kissing you,” I said. With a grin, he leaned in and kissed me again.

When I drove away, I was fluttery... kind of. 

I mean, I’d just kissed a hot guy. We flirted and had pretty good conversation. I was post-date smiley… kind of.

But… I was so guarded, and I don’t like being super guarded. I just kept thinking, “This guy dumped me. This guy dumped me. This guy dumped me!”

He promptly asked me out again. (He made me dinner!) And again. And again. All were fun and low key and totally PG.

But the last time that he came over I just knew…
this isn’t my guy. 

I would never get over that he lost interest in me before. More importantly, seven months later, I have a better idea now for what I’m looking for in a guy; as cute and fun as Aaron is, he isn’t quite… enough. It’s hard to explain. Like I could totally picture snuggling with him on my couch and bringing him out my local friends, but I couldn’t imagine ever being at a point where he would come with me to Virginia to meet my brother, sister-in-law, and their kids or Ali and her family. Some level of connection just wasn’t there.

Can I Recycle Aaron for Sex Purposes?

But, you guys know how I am about physical chemistry. I value that shit like nobody’s business. I wondered if I could transform Aaron into my new option for no-strings-attached sex, since I have fully closed the door on Jason and the Incredible Sex (aren't you proud of me?), and Steve, the guy from my building, has kind of disappeared (maybe he got a girlfriend? Good for him!).

I like Aaron and I too remembered the sex being good, so why let him go? When I know the sex is good and My Number doesn’t go up, I’m all for recycling.

So, 24 hours after our last date, I texted him.

Woohoo, I got me a new friend with benefits!

I got to take advantage of this great new set up exactly one time before this shit happened:

12 hours after my fall.

Ninja fight? A fall in a sewer? A car accident on the autobahn? I’ll tell all next week!

What do you think about recycling former flames? Has it ever worked to give someone a second (or third or seventh) chance?