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Moon Musings

Why shouldn’t I write here?  Underneath mother moon, so full she looks likely to burst.  She shines down upon me, inspiring me, my cancer self ruled by her glorious power.  The waves crash beside me and I can see just fine, so why not?  The sea.  My fucking one true love.  Just being in it’s presence, hearing its gentle lullaby soothes me.  

Here I sit, asking myself: Is the reason I feel alienated from my co-workers because I alienate myself?  I spend a lot of time with Nick and probably miss out on potential bonding time.  In retrospect, maybe I spend all this time with him in an effort to get out of the hostel.  I like the people I know and the snobbish ones, I don’t care to know.
And Nick.  What the fuck should I do about Nick?!  He has kids!  But we did finally discuss them…

It was one night night, after he sleep sex attacked me (it’s like he’s sleep walking, but all he does is feel me up and mumble gibberish) we both ended up wide awake and talking.  As much as I dislike being woken from my sweet slumber, we end up having our best conversations in the veil of darkness, partially awake, partially in a dream.  It was during one of these conversations that the subject was broached.  He said that he would like to have kids, someday in the future.  I responded, “I was under the impression you already have children…”
He got really quiet and finally said, “Yeah, I didn’t know how to tell you.  I was going to, that night at the brewery but then you and Jill started talking about how you would never date a guy who had kids and what a turn off it was…”
Shit.
I apologized, but scolded him for not telling me something so monumental.  Yet, since my discovery and now that I have had time to reflect on it, I feel okay about it.
He began telling me about his ex-wife who he met at his time as a Youth Councillor through his church.  She was a recovering drug addict and 6 years his senior who convinced him to rush into a relationship, marriage and kids… Things got violent apparently on her part, although she accused him of such behaviour as well.
“This doesn’t change the way I feel about you,” I told him and knew I meant it.
Maybe because they’re not physically present in his life, it’s easier to cope with.  Or maybe it’s because I still don’t see a future for us, even though I kind of, sort of, want to believe it could be possible.

It’s all so confusing for me.  When I’m with him, I feel amazing; I’m confident and relaxed and completely myself.  When we’re apart, I’m relieved and yet, I miss him.  Like I said, it’s all very confusing.
The other day he referred to himself as my boyfriend and even though I keep saying I don’t want to label it, I felt tingles.
Deep down, I know I’m just filling some big hole in my life.  Wow, I had completely intended to write ‘his life‘ but instead I wrote ‘my life‘.  Isn’t that telling?  Total Freudian slip.  There you have it.  We’re both using each other in the same way.  And perhaps, just for right now, it’s okay.  This thing we have may be fleeing, but that doesn’t mean it can’t be intense and raw and beautiful all the same.  Perhaps, knowing it has an expiry date is what makes it so easy to love so honestly and openly.

Oh Nick, what are you doing to me?  Did we meet in another life?  Or several?  You’ve got me such a fucking mess.

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Is It True?

After losing my passport and falling into a dark pit of self-loathing, I did what I always do in dire circumstances: I reconnected with a former fling.

In this particular case, it was my darling Lip Ring. I had been in Auckland and he had been pressuring me to hangout with him.  When he heard the news of my world collapsing (I’m not dramatic at all, I swear) he insisted I come out to the North Shore and have a couple beers, his treat. He rightly assumed that I needed my best friend/worst enemy, alcohol, to help me through the pain. We sat outside, chain smoking and sipping beers.  We chatted about a lot of things, but somehow our conversation got onto Neil Strauss’ The Game and the art of picking up the opposite sex.  I mentioned how intimidating it can also be for women to approach a man and strike up a conversation.
“There’s no reason a woman should be approaching a man in the first place,” he insisted.
“Why not?  How else will she let them know she’s interested?” I pressed.
“If he’s interested, then he’ll make the first move.  Simple as that.”
“So what’s a woman supposed to do to seduce a guy?”
“Make herself attractive, dress sexily and not be fat.”

ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!
Of course, this statement launched us into a heated debated, which made for some awesome angry sex later (God, our relationship is dysfunctional.) I couldn’t stop thinking about what he said, but decided to dismiss his views as exclusive to the Dutch and not applicable here in New Zealand. That is, until this week…

My friend Pete had just moved down under and came to visit me. We launched into a similar conversation when I insisted on performing my “Pick-up Rap” for him (yeah, I wrote a rap to pick up guys at the bar and believe me when I say it’s amazing.)
“Yeah, that’s pretty good, but there’s no reason for you to ever use it.”
“Why not?” I asked, “I want to try it out on a guy, I think it would be a great way to break the ice and at least garner a laugh.”
“If a guy is interested, he’ll approach you.  If you have to start the conversation, you’re wasting your time.  Sure, he might go home with you, but he’ll never actually be into you.”
“That CAN’T be true!” I cried, “What about shy guys?”
“Do you really want a shy guy who can’t even muster the courage to speak to you?  Believe me, as a woman, all you need to do is smile, make 5 seconds of eye contact and wait for him to do the rest.”
I refused to believe, even when Pete cited mating in the animal kingdom and how it’s normally the men who must put in the work to attract a partner. Here I was thinking that if I hit on a guy, he would be impressed and find it refreshing.  But apparently I am just coming off as desperate and pathetic.

Still in denial, I decided to test the theory.  During a Tinder rampage while in the city, I had matched with my ideal guy: tall, bearded, tattooed, well-traveled, North American.  We had chatted intermittently, but since I became pretty sheepish about my Tinder tear, I wasn’t really going on the app except to continue our lagging conversation.  He told me to add him to Facebook to chat there.  I did and then did not hear a peep out of him for weeks.
I struggled to come up with a clever and interesting greeting, but settled for something boring and cliche.  Then I waited. And waited.  And waited some more.  He had been online, he had read the message, but he didn’t respond for over two days.  Ashamed, I deleted the conversation history in an effort to pretend it hadn’t happened.  He finally responded after I took the drastic step of deleting him off Facebook, his response was half-hearted.

Who knows why he decided he wasn’t interested, but the fact of the matter was he obviously wasn’t and so he did not pursue me.  Maybe there is something to this claim after all, but it leaves me feeling so helpless.

Can someone shed some light on this for me?  Guys?  Girls?  Anyone?

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Unspoken Rules of Dating

Some time ago I found myself single for the first time in 5 years.
Having never dated as an adult, I was at a total and utter loss.
What the fuck is a Tinder?
Why are all the guys are the bar so young?
How the hell do people meet these days?

I rebounded immediately with Matthew and assumed all my dating experiences would be as breezy.  After all:
He approached me and we immediately hit it off.
It was the best sex I’ve ever had.
He treated me with all the respect of a girlfriend but we had the freedom to do whatever/whomever we liked.
It was easy.  Simple.
Every guy since then?  Not so much…

When I met Dan I was immediately smitten.  I felt I’d played it pretty cool and that we’d fallen into a similar, easy situation.
When he transitioned me to a secret booty call, I was confused.
But he had genuinely seemed to like me….
That’s when I remembered that people are assholes and most guys will say or do whatever it takes to get a lady in the sack.

There are a few unspoken rules regarding dating.  From what I’ve seen and pieced together over the past couple years these include but aren’t limited to:

  1. Don’t have sex on the first date
  2. Wait at least 2 hours before texting back; be sure to prepare the coolest and wittiest response possible
  3. Don’t discuss past relationships
  4. Never disclose your ‘number’ or give them any indication you’ve ever had sex with anyone else
  5. Most importantly: Do not EVER let them know how much you like them

I hate these rules.
I love sex and don’t want to wait an allotted amount of time only to potentially get fucked and chucked anyway.
Any guy who would judge me on my sexual past doesn’t deserve a place in my life anyway.

Can’t we just be honest with each other?  Can’t I just tell a guy how I feel about him to ensure we’re on the page before we invest too much time or someone gets hurt.

Let’s change the way we date guys!