It shouldn’t surprise me that I was so easily replaced.  It shouldn’t surprise me that it makes the ache in my heart ten times worse even though I knew I had no future with the man.  And it doesn’t surprise me that his answer to my question doesn’t satisfy me.

“Why am I not good enough?”

I mean, really.  If I’m so great looking with such a great bod and “the most free and open lover he’s ever had” then why am I not good enough?  For him, that is.  I’m evidently just fine for so many others but not good enough for him.  And I want to know why.

“That’s not it,” he says.  “It’s me, not you.”  “I have all these issues, I’m still dealing with the divorce.”

I call bullshit.

If it’s not me, then why did he date and sleep with someone else?  It doesn’t matter that he told her he wants to call it quits (*cough*bullshit*cough*) after only three weeks.  It doesn’t matter that his off-hand comment the other night was an actual comparison of me to his newest lover, not just a random comment as I originally thought.  I should have known then.  But of course it was that comment that brought the question to my mind in the first place.  If I was THAT good, why aren’t you still with me?  Why can’t you get over your emotional baggage and commit?  I’m a total-package kind of gal.  I have a lot to offer.  Why wasn’t I good enough?

For him, that is.

You know there is something wrong when removing your profile from a dating site gives you a huge sense of relief.  Online dating is time consuming and mentally draining so I made the decision to leave the site.  However, I decided to keep in contact with a handful of potentials that I had already been talking to.  Ha!  Each day that goes by whittles that number down.

There was the nice looking older man who seemed like a great successful guy.  A bit of a homebody and he was a Steelers fan but I was willing to overlook all of that.  However, I couldn’t overlook the offensive ‘humor’ or the racist comments and the general negativity I caught a glimpse of when we were on the phone one night.  Next morning I canceled our plans to meet.  I knew it wasn’t going to work.  He was clearly disappointed and said that I didn’t get to see the real him and he was sorry because he thought we’d be great together.

Then there was the younger guy…twenty years younger than the man I fell in love with, if that tells you anything.  Age-wise I’m somewhere in the middle between them.  He was one of the first guys to contact me on the dating site.  Well, I finally met him in person and it’s true what they say, guys DO add two inches to their height.  That made him about 5′ 4″ in real life.  I towered over him wearing flip flops.  Not like it mattered.  We had nothing in common besides physical needs.  Nothing.  So I decided to cancel our dinner plans for the next evening and the guy actually begged me to reconsider.  Begged.  *shudders*

And last week I got flowers from a married man.  I’m not going there, so don’t ask.  Let’s just say that I thought of him as a friend.  FRIEND.

So I have all that crap going on and I feel awful because I’m hurting people and turning into an ‘almost homewrecker’ and I want to retreat into my dating shell because the idea of dying old and alone doesn’t seem so bad considering the alternative.  And as I keep reminding myself, “I don’t have time for all this crap!  I need to study!”

But then who texts me?  Or did he call?  I don’t know.  What I do know is that I cherish every teeny tiny bit of attention he throws my way.  And even as I type that I know it’s sad and pathetic but it’s true.  We spent some time together this evening and I loved every minute of it.

So I’m done with online dating for now.  It’s too time-consuming, too disappointing, too mentally draining.  There are a few potentials I’m still in contact with, but there is only ONE who has captured my attention and I don’t think the others have a chance while he’s still around throwing me a bone every now and then.

Oh my.  I’m tired.  I was off all weekend and the girls and I shopped till we dropped then got up the next day to do it all over again.  I’ve spent so much money, I don’t even want to know how much.  But really only a tiny bit was frivolous spending.  Okay, maybe a little more than tiny.  But I’m okay with it.  One last splurge.

I heard from him today, finally.  I learned some disturbing things and we argued about how he’s a selfish bastard who doesn’t have the hearts of his kids.  He really is selfish but he doesn’t see it.  And interestingly enough, I feel better.  I talked to him as a friend and it felt natural.  Yes, I love him and yes, I will tell him some day but really?  He’s a mess.  He’s royally screwed up right now.  He needs to keep seeing his therapist or better yet, find a new one.  And it’s okay that he doesn’t call.  I feel like I can actually think about moving on.  My heart doesn’t feel so heavy and that’s a nice change from crying myself to sleep every freakin’ night.  THAT was getting old.

I have no new real potentials to speak of.  Dating potentials that is.  Currently on my plate are the daddy on the beach, the cheating artist, the younger martial arts guy, the MIA scientist, the man with way too many women in his life and the other guy I can’t recall at this point.  All just in the talking stage.  Martial arts guy has my cell #.  Others are just in the messaging stage at the moment.  Nothing serious.  Nothing that stands out as the ONE.

I did no homework this weekend.  None.  That is going to come back and bite me in the butt.  You can count on it.  On that note, I need to get to bed because I’m forcing myself to get back to working out -every- morning.  I bought a gorgeous bikini this weekend at Victoria’s Secret and I want to look as good as I can before take off.  PLANE take off, not clothes take off.  Sheesh.

I try to remind myself that things were slowly getting worse.  He was acting weird.  Impatient.  Rude.  He was snippy for no reason and didn’t seem to be happy no matter what I did unless we were having sex which became the only thing that mattered to him.  Or so I thought.  It wasn’t long afterwards that I decided to stop seeing him.

But I can’t seem to remember any of this in great detail no matter how hard I try.  It’s like my mind has blocked out the negative and all I can remember are the good times.  And as a psychology student, I know the mind does this and I find myself frustrated.  I know there were several reasons that I let him go but the memories are vague at best.  All I can remember are the good times.  That time I was having a bad day and he invited me over.  As soon as I arrived he dressed me in his cozy PJ’s, settled me on the loveseat and covered me in a blanket.  Then he brought me his iPad to play with and a plate of snacks while he continued to cook dinner for us.  Or the time we went to Wal-Mart together.  A perfectly domestic activity, the two of us shopping together.  Even now as I think of it, I get this warm happy feeling in my heart.  I think it was then I knew I loved him.  I could see us shopping together like that.

I cried myself to sleep last night and I’m angry at myself for it.  Why am I doing this?  Why do I check my phone again and again hoping to find a message from him?  He used to call and text all day long.  Why do I expect that he will do that now that I’ve let him back into my life?  Things are not like they were at the beginning.  And things were not that like that three weeks ago when I told him goodbye.  Why can’t I get that through my head?

And you know what’s worst?  I found a condo I’d like to buy.  It’s the first and only one I’ve looked at but I’ve been searching online since March so I’m pretty sure I’m not going to find anything like it for that price.  It has everything I want and I may just put in an offer.  The sad thing is, all this would-be joy over buying my first house on my own is overshadowed because I can’t think straight with a broken-heart.  And that just sucks.

It was the hug.

I had wondered how he would react when I first entered his house.  Would it be obvious that he had missed me or would he just casually welcome me in?  We hadn’t seen one another for over three weeks.  I rang the doorbell, as I always do, even though I know the door is unlocked.  Then I was inside and there he was, tall and handsome wearing those awful glasses that hide his beautiful eyes.  Right away he opened his arms and — it was bliss.  He missed me.  A lot.  He pulled me close, closer…then closer still.  He kissed the top of my head.  I melted.  If I were a smart girl, I would have left right then, but as we all know, smart girls do not get themselves into such situations and therefore, I am most decidedly not a smart girl.

I didn’t hear from him all day.  Didn’t expect to really.  Our relationship has had its ups and downs, even in the short time we’ve been ‘together’.  I find myself wishing we could go back to how it was in the beginning with him anxious to see me every day.  But that won’t happen again.  I think he realizes that we went too deep, too fast but, like me, he can’t stay away.  I’d like to think that he’s in love with me too and it scares the hell out of him.  His therapist warned him against getting too serious with me.  “You’re not ready, it’s too soon.”  He’s told me that his feelings for me scare him but he’s never come out and said exactly what those feelings are.  Ah hell, who I am kidding?  It’s all just wishful thinking.

Then again, there was the hug.  That hug said, “I love you,” more than words ever could.

So, I woke up in his bed this morning.  I don’t regret that at all.  I wanted to be there.  I love the way he insisted we spoon together.  He didn’t want to get out of bed.  I rubbed his back.  He caressed my hip.

I left without a kiss.  Something I regret.  Something I blamed on him.  He said he was distracted.  He apologized.  I don’t think he meant it.  And my heart breaks a little more.

We were supposed to be just friends.  He was up front from the beginning.  He had been through a very difficult divorce was not ready for a long-term commitment.  We met anyway.  Again, I don’t regret that at all.

I was comfortable with him from day one.  Totally at ease.  I struggle with my feelings now but at the time, I was interested in pursuing, let’s just say, an unusual lifestyle and he wasn’t interested in a long-term relationship.  So, we were together but not.  And that was a comfort to both of us.  He showered me with attention from the beginning.  At times, it was annoying and he was almost clingy.  But the more time I spent with him, the more natural it felt.  My other ‘interest’ began to wane and my affection for him grew.

But things were difficult, complex.  I couldn’t let myself fall in love with a man who liked us ‘right now’ and didn’t want to give any thought to the future.  Our future.  Which was perfectly okay, because he’d been straight from the beginning about what he wanted.  The more affection I felt for him, the less I wanted to be intimate with him.  Yes, the more I loved him, the less I wanted to have sex with him.  It began to feel like I was offering my heart up to him each time we were together.  My heart breaking a little each time.

At times it seemed as if it was all about the sex to him and that’s when the walls started going up.  Those self-protective walls we so carefully build around ourselves.  We stopped all contact a few weeks back.  It was hard not having him in my life.  I thought of him often.  I don’t know when I finally admitted to myself that I loved him.  When I could stand it no longer, I emailed him.  That was three days ago.  And already my heart is missing another little piece.

Why am I doing this to myself?

I’m experiencing a little bit of introspection.  It has absolutely nothing to do with the psychology exam I took today either.  47% of my grade for 2 hours and 40 minutes of frantic and intense typing.  But like I said, this little bit of self-discovery has nothing to do with that at all.  It has more to do with my current state of mind, as a single woman.  A busy single woman with a full-time job and part-time school obligations that leave little time for dating or much of anything really.  So I have more time to think about what I want than I do for pursuing what I want.  And I’m very much aware of what I want.  And what I don’t want.  I think.

But what I wonder is why?  Why do I want what I want?  I’m not discussing specifics here just yet because that’s just a bit too personal for me at the moment.  Maybe another time I will get more into it but suffice to say, all this introspection has me wondering, in a good way, what direction I want my life to take as far as finding a companion goes.  Am I ready for a long-term commitment?  I know any relationship I’m in has to be monogamous.  I simply won’t share.  But.  I like being single.  I like having my own place.  I like the idea of getting lots of attention from the man of my dreams–to a point.  I want to be able to have my space too.  Physical space and mental space that is.  I’m house-hunting so the idea of moving in with a man is nowhere on my list of wants right now.  I like the idea of having my OWN place.  All mine.  With a lime green living room with black furniture and bright color accents like bejeweled pillows in fuchsia, turquoise, orange and yellow.  MY place.

So what does that say about my desire for a long-term monogamous relationship?  “I love you, honey, I just don’t want to live with you?”  How does that work?  And even though a relationship would have to grow over time before such commitment would be an issue, the thought of leaving the sanctuary of MY place to move in with someone, even years down the road, is not appealing to me at this time in my life.  And yet long-term & monogamous is what I think I want.  Is it?  If not long-term, then what is it?  How do you label that?  Can long-term mean everything except moving into together and/or getting married?  *shudders*

And how does finding a companion mesh with my life goals right now?  I am at the point in my life where I can do anything I want and be anything I want.  I definitely want to be in school.  The most relaxing time I have each week is the drive to school on the evenings when I have class.  Yes, this has been a particularly tough quarter with nine credit hours/three classes but I love being in school.  I love the challenge.  I love the forward progress.  My job doesn’t pay well at all but it works with my school schedule and that is most important to me right now.  I enjoy my fitness routine though I’ve seen more of the inside of a textbook than I have the footpads of the elliptical trainer this past month.

But where does a man fit in with all that?  Or rather, does a man fit in with that at all?  Should a ‘friends with benefits’ arrangement be an option?  Am I a slut for even thinking about this?  What exactly is short-term dating?  Is dying old and alone really such a bad thing?  These are thoughts I have.

I updated the pictures on my dating profile and oh. my. goodness.  I love the pictures, which is a rare thing for me, and I’m flattered by the responses.  Wish I could hire a secretary to handle the flood of email to my inbox because I really don’t have time for it.  (Don’t really have time for dating either, but that’s another story entirely.)  And that brings two thoughts to mind.  One, I didn’t think my old picture was so bad but if the response to these new pictures is any indication, it was definitely NOT all that.  And two, the shallowness of online dating surprises me.  Yeah, I know.  I should have expected it but I was surprised.  SO much attention with the new photos.  Hmm…

However, life is not perfect in the dating world even with good pictures.  I’ve gotten a ton of messages from men who want to meet me, not unusual.  However, some border on the obsessive (”I can’t stop thinking about you.”) and all they had done was visit my profile.  (Maybe good pictures aren’t such a good thing…)  And as I type this, I have a window open at said dating site and a 45 year old man from Dayton is spewing obscenities at me.  He sent me some instant messages “hi there” “ur hot” and I recognized him as one of the guys who had previously contacted me.  I knew I wasn’t interested so I responded with the following, “I’m sorry, but I don’t think we’re a match. I wish you the best of luck though.”  Oh dear.  That set him off.  For over an hour now, he’s been messaging me calling me everything but a nice girl.  He has threatened to choke me and all sorts of horrible things.  All because of my “horrible condescending” response to him.  Really?  What exactly am I supposed to say in that situation?  Play along and pretend I’m interested just to avoid hurting his feelings?  That’s just not my style.

But I’m thoroughly creeped out now.  I didn’t respond to his messages but I wanted to type, “This is what we call dodging a bullet.” He looked like a perfectly normal guy.

Like I needed a reminder that there are crazies are out there lurking behind every profile.