The "L" Word

The last few weeks have been tumultuous to say the least, hence the blog-slackery. I'll start with the men (of which there seem to be many - my psychic told me I surround myself with men as a sort of protection. Living, breathing emergency hand rails).

The guy who was all needy (before I went to Vegas)? Well he came into my work last week and now he's been texting me saying how good it was to see me and that we should do lunch or grab a drink. Remember how I told you you were needy?? Ya, you're not helping yourself here.

Then there's a guy I'll call Tiger (he's a golfer) we've been out several times and he finally kissed me a few weeks ago (after I lost a game of pool). He's really sweet and I've actually known him since I was 15 or 16. We used to work together as cooks (I flashed him some bra one time for extra chicken fingers), and he'd drive me home from work but we were always just friends.

Anyway, it's been almost two months that we've been "dating" and he still hasn't tried anything. It makes me wonder - is it because he had a religious upbringing? (His parents are Jehovah's Witness' but he's pulled away from that and deems himself "unsure religiously". Still you have to wonder what he retained from that), so is he maybe unsure how to proceed? Is he just a gentleman? Do those exist?

Then there's Pseudo. I saw him again last week. We went for a walk and then back to my place and while we were doing stuff that doesn't involve sleeping* he said "I love you, Alice" just like that.

So I obviously ignored him, since I suck at life. Well and he'd had a few drinks and I was stone-cold sober so it really wouldn't be fair for me to take advantage of a weak moment.

Needless to say I've been thinking about it all week. I'm visiting my sister and her family in Victoria until next Tuesday which has been a welcome and much needed vacation. I have no idea what I'll do when I get back, but I'll worry about that when the time comes...



*Thanks D for the right way to word that eloquently

The One In Which I'm Emotional

(For the full Pseudo story - click here and scroll down)

Ex-Pseudo called me last night. I was at my "Cheers" playing Buck Hunter after work. The phone rang and everything else ceased to matter. My heart stopped, I felt my breath catch in my throat.

I haven't spoken with him in months, I haven't seen him in over a year and yet the same old feelings came crashing down around me. Last time he called in October, I didn't answer the phone - this time I did.

As soon as I saw it was him calling I knew it was over for me. I didn't think about the great guy I've been on two dates with recently and who sends me sweet random texts; I didn't think about what was going to happen when I saw Pseudo; I didn't think logically or take the time to think about the ramifications of what may or may not happen. I answered and I knew I would see him.

"B saved you some pizza, come to B's house," as if we had spoken an hour ago. I laughed and told him I wasn't sure, knowing full well I'd be over there shortly.

When I got there he said: "I guess you know me and T-Bone broke up?" to which I replied (honestly) "umm...no actually I didn't".

I couldn't believe I was there. I berated myself but yet felt happy. I can't begin to explain, I don't even understand it myself.

I woke up in his arms

And now I'm lost again

Asshats (Can I Title My Posts With an Expletive?)

I hate facebook. I think it's the spawn of the Devil. See, as much as I try to use it for world peace and stuff that's good for mankind (and such as) I find myself turning into a creepy stalker every once in a while. Last night for example I casually clicked on (ex)pseudo-bf's page and looked through his pictures while holding my stuffed rabbit to my eyes, rocking back and forth a little, sobbing and hyperventilating into a brown paper bag.

Kidding.

I did however look at his new girlfriend, who has a little message on her page for me - what the hell? Let's say her name is Beach (and not for the obvious resemblance to another word), she has written "Beach is: B is for Alice" um, wait a minute? Who are you? Why are you talking to me? What is this world coming to? Are you people 30 or 16?

Then I felt like an idiot because that means she knew I would look at her page. Which means pseudo has said something to her about me. Which means I may or may not look like an asshat depending on what he told her.

I do wonder though, because he told me once that this other chick, S, might find me on fb and write me a letter because she was in love with him. I laughed about it then but now I'm thinking; does he think I'll do that? Is that what he warned this new girl?

He must have a huge ego if he thinks I'll care enough to find his stupid new girlfriend and look at all her ugly pictures covorting by the beach and stuffing rib-eye in her face. Hello, I would never look at all her pictures while wondering what exactly is so great about her.

Anyway, the thing that bothers me about the whole thing is the fact that I DID find her, and he knew I would and he used that to rub it in my face like a huge asshole. Last time I checked I was a pretty awesome person, one who would never write a letter to a guy's new girlfriend no matter what he did to me. A person who would look at the pictures but feel that bitter-sweet feeling for them because it means at least he's off my hands now. Normally I would think "aw that's sweet" and move on with my life. He had to make it weird.

The worst part? I broke it off with him and now he's trying to make me look like a crazy stalker. Hell-o?! The restraining order expired three moths ago - get over it already!

Now if you'll excuse me, I have a letter to write.

What is it, Monday?

Dear Friday,

What the hell is wrong with you? You are supposed to be my feel-good, end-of-the-week, happy-time day. I even get to leave work at one o'clock whenever you come around in my long, boring life - any day that ends at one is automatically supposed to be a good day.

But no, today you had to go and ruin that for me, didn't you? Why is it that today, of all days, the phone attendant decides to be an asshole and not transfer The Pres through? The couriers decide that not delivering stuff is actually a funny little game? The internet dies and everyone asks ME what's wrong with it? Pseudo tells me he is going on a cruise with his new girlfriend - seriously?

What. The. Fuck?

Friends off.

-Alice

What Happens When...

Pseudo-bf wasn't ready for a girlfriend. I wasn't ready for a boyfriend so it worked out well in my eyes. It was a great set-up or so I thought. It was all pretty cut and dry, until there was that time he introduced me as his girlfriend. Or the time I was on the phone with him and he had to run off for a second so passed me to a friend saying "talk to my girl for a minute".

There was that weekend in Vancouver when we spent the days together; going to the gym, walking to a Vietnamese restaurant for noodle bowls and iced coffee, making fun of his friends who were on the stag with him because they would be drunk messes by four o'clock while he was just getting ready to hit the shower for a full night of drinking. Going for dinner and drinks with my friends in Vancouver while he went out with the guys and having the guys call me at 11 to come meet up, although I told them all I was perfectly happy staying at my friends or cousins if they wanted to have the stripper dance all night or whatever it is that boys do on stags.

There were the times we lay in bed all day on a Saturday, watching movies, eating "bad food" and making fun of each other. Me for his World of Warcraft playing at 31 years old, him for my weird TV habits (namely watching part of the cooking show, flipping to CNN for commercials, taking an intermission for the house-fixing shows then back to the cooking network). There was the fact that we chatted pretty much every night, whether it was via msn or telephone, and if we didn't chat neither of us ever asked where the other had been, or why they hadn't called. There were the poker games that slightly frustrated and bemused him because he was obviously a better player and yet I always managed to win at least some money off the guys.

There were the bad pick-up lines he'd test on me first and make sure they were awful enough for no girl to take seriously and then go trying them out, mostly for my and his friends amusement. There were the 80s tunes cranked at 3 am, much to the chagrin of the upstairs neighbors. There was the time we lay in a field after the bar, talking about our families, the dog I was scared of losing (who died shortly after), and the cancer that ravenged his Aunt's body.

If he was out with his friends he didn't necessarily tell me, he didn't "check-in" on me either and I was free to go out on a Wednesday and make an ass of myself. I could wake up late on a Sunday, go for coffee with a friend and spend all day hanging out with her. I could go to Victoria for a weekend without asking someone else what their schedule was like. All the things I hated about having a boyfriend, I didn't have with him. All the things I wanted from a boyfriend, I got from him.

Slowly and steadily we started breaking each other, putting the acts in motion to destroy everything we had. One week it would be me who did it. Broke him, hurt him in some way. The next week it was him. It all started with an offhand, drunken, misconstrued comment: "If I wanted a relationship I'd still be with The-Ex", "But you don't want a Relationship so you're with me?", "I'm Not With You".

It escalated into a full-on what the hell do we want from each other war. Trying to prove to each other that we didn't need each other. Trying to prove that we were both still the strong, independent people we were when we first met. I don't need you. I have myself. We tried to fix it. Tried to make things right, get over our bruised egos and look past the hurtful things that had been done. We tried to pretend nothing had happened. Then we tried to talk about it and lay everything out in the open. It was too hard. It was too painful. I don't need you. I love you. I don't need you. I hate you. I don't need you. I don't need anyone.

An Explanation If I May

Ok maybe not so over pseudo-bf.

For some reason, I just started thinking about him and felt nauseous. Romantic, I know. Ha. Seriously though.

I guess I should backtrack a bit on this one...

I am not a romantic - candlelit dinner with soft music? Gag. "Sweetums" and "honey" and all kissy-face while walking down the street? Hurl. I find it too contrived, typical. Fake. Call me cynical, but I'd rather a guy spontaneously pick me up and carry me across a puddle. That kind of shit is sweet.

Anyway, pseudo-bf and I met over a game of poker. His friends thought we'd hit it off and luckily didn't let me know they were trying to set us up. Otherwise I hardly think I'd have gone. Anyway they were right; we hit it off, went out bla bla.

I hate the "what-exactly-are-we-doing-with-this-whole-dating-thing" conversation. Apparently pseudo-bf was not a fan either so we really didn't have it. He had broken up with his gf of 5 years not long before we met, I had moved out of my ex-bfs place 4 months earlier. It was understood that neither of us wanted a 'Commitment'.

And so it went; we went out for dinner, talked all the time, slept together, hung out all weekend etc. but he wasn't my boyfriend and yes, I saw other people. Then we had a talk where I told him that it wasn't working. Mainly I think I was scared that I wanted something else from him and unsure that he was willing to give it. He had told me he didn't want a 'relationship' for at least a couple years when we first met (ex-gf issues or whatnot - he is nothing if not totally honest). I think the are-we-booty-calls-or-not was too confusing for me. You don't generally talk pretty much every night with just a booty call.

Yet, I randomly started talking to him again 5 months later. I think the scenario was something like this:

Me: *drunk dialing from the bar* "Pseudo-bf! What are you doing?"
Pseudo-bf: "Alice?"
Me: "Can you come get me? I want to see you" (I'm drunk! And want lovin'!)
Pseudo-bf: (probably thinking I'm the most random person ever) "uh...sure, be there soon"

And then it started again with the talking all the time, weekends together and all that jazz. We were even in Vancouver on vacation at the same time and spent pretty much the whole time he was out there in his hotel room. He was on a friends stag so you can imagine. It actually worked out great. I would go out around dinner time with my friends who live there and he would go out with the stag guys and then we'd meet up partway through the night.

Anyway, shit hit the fan and I don't think I'm ready to deal with all that in this blog yet but it sucked. We didn't talk for a few months again. Then he called. He missed me. We tried to work things out but he was hurt, I was hurt. We would hang out a few times, get scared, stop talking.

Lather. Rinse. Repeat.

Anyway, we had a "talk" recently where I told him I was fine with the way things were. I like going out with my friends on Fridays, I like meeting up with him and his friends later, I like hanging out on Saturdays in his T-shirts. I like that if I want to go out with the ladies on a Thursday, get drunk, and make a total ass out of myself I don't have to explain myself to anyone.

Now I'm not so sure. I think if he can't give me more (and I'm not exactly sure what I mean by that) I need to move on. I'm not that girl - the one who needs a boyfriend, the one who calls him all the time to see what he's up to, the one who gets upset if he goes out with his friends without (God-forbid) telling her. The girl who gets mad at him for every little thing. He's scared of that girl - hell, I would be, if I were a guy. He needs his space, his singledom, his whatever and I think he's afraid of me (or any girl) becoming that girl. Then again, I think after 2 years he'd clearly see I'm not about to be. I need my freedom as much as he needs his. I'm an Aries!

I mean, he's 31 now, and still things are the same.

I go through it on waves. Like on Thursday when he invited me out and I declined (so not normal of me. Not going to lie - I was totally considering it until I thought about the fact that I was wearing comfy pants and a ponytail already. The prospect of half an hour to get ready didn't thrill me). Then there was Friday - when I didn't answer (!) his call (!!) and was having an awesome time with O/N guy

But then today I miss him. Go figure.

The Radar

I swear he has radar. I decide I'm done with him, this whatever-it-is we have and then he calls. Or texts or sends me an msn message. Why is it that as soon as I realize that I don't need this pseudo-relationship, pseudo-bf comes flying back in as though he's been watching my every move?

"Haven't heard from Alice in a while. She didn't call me last Friday, she had fun with her friends Saturday, she went out to a sports game tonight and didn't call - she must be getting over me. Time to fly in on my "Hey-I've-Missed-You-mobile" and nip that little dis-attachment in the bud".

And the biggest question - Why Do I Still Care??

Honestly, almost two years later and we're still doing this back and forth dance: Do-I, Don't I, Does-He, Doesn't He? To say it's complicated doesn't even begin to describe it.