On Dating....

Dating sucks.

There are all of these unspoken rules about how you're not supposed to spill everything you're thinking and feeling.  Being the kind of person who has a tendency to blurt out the first thing on their mind, this is not a good rule for me.

Honesty goes right out the window and nobody seems to be a fan of using it anymore.  Common sense is so rare it's practically a super power.

Not to mention that I melt at the mere thought of someone being thrilled in regards to my existence on this planet.  That has yet to happen as far as I'm aware of.  

I am so tired of doubting whether people are coming or going in my life.  Finding a way to power through repeated rejection.  I'm good at not acknowledging the fact that I'm a human being, but I am finding it harder and harder lately.  And I think it all boils down to what one person has done to me.  In a good way, but in a bad way too; more so because when I am with them I feel like a dog looks when they're stupid excited about a belly rub.

You know what turns me on?  What keeps me coming back?
Effort.  Assurance.  Conversation.  Conversing - my favorite verb on the planet.  Show me that you care.  That you really want me.

Actions, things like letting me know that you're still watching me get into my car and drive away after you've walked me out and telling me to let you know when I made it home.  Responding to messages.  Acting like you're glad to hear from me.  Don't just say shit to make me fall in love with you if you're not ready for me to do that.  Don't tell me that I make you happy after you've ignored me for a month.  Especially after canceling plans by text message and thinking that it was a perfectly acceptable option.  When you pull shit like that, you're basically the human equivalent of a participation award.  Good fucking job, douche.

Picture it:  I went out for some drinks with my friend last night and I told her what had been happening with Mr. InvaderOfWhatTheFuck-Landia.  I told her about the cuddling that I'm actually comfortable with, and the staring into my eyes, and political debates and discussions that I'm actually enjoying and was mostly sober for and the spending the night and all the fucked up things happening in my head, like taking him to my camp.  What the fuck is that?  It took me a year of knowing Mr. Seven Year Itch before he got to go there, and it was another 5 years before I let him go again.  (**Note:  for me, camp is the happiest place on Earth and I wouldn't ever just take anyone who hasn't earned a place in my life because I'll be damned if anyone is going to desecrate it with their bullshit)  After clarifying not once, but twice, that I was fine with the cuddling, she asked if I needed to go to the Emergency Room to be checked for roofies or other drugs because she was genuinely concerned for my safety.  In her words, "I can see you enjoying a political debate before I can see you not screaming in terror when someone is trying to cuddle you, and even then I would need photographic evidence to believe it."  In other words;  this really has never happened before in the history of ever.  Holy Fuck balls. 

When I deactivated my POF account in the fall shortly after I met Mr. I, it wasn't because I was delusional enough to believe right away that he was the one;  it was because I FUCKING HATE DATING.  I didn't even really want to reactivate it 2 weeks ago like I did.  I've had some pretty interesting conversations.  And in response to something Mr. I. said, no, to the best of my knowledge, I do not have a fan club.  Not anywhere on this planet.

I'm starting to think my account should read:  

Super socially awkward, fun loving single mom of 2.  I'm an open book, but not a doormat.  Has a tendency to blurt out the first thing that comes to mind and is the only person in the entire world who actually wants what she says that she does.  I love being outside with my dog, laughing with friends.  I'm looking for friends, possibly more.  Definitely not just a one time hook up.  I honestly think that I'm the last person on the planet who thinks that loyalty is a thing to be proud of and doesn't see dating as a sport.  Lover of shows from 70's, 80's and 90's television.  Geeky t-shirt wearer.  Twisted sense of humor.  No fucks given, most of the time.  Compulsively organizes a closet or a drawer while the rest of the house looks like it exploded.  Kitchen alchemist - fudge catches fire when it boils over onto a glass top stove and then turns to rock, who knew :).  Lover of projects, just doesn't have the attention span to be able to finish the last 10%, no matter what it is.  Just for kicks pinup and fetish model - no being open about it isn't an invitation to ask for nude pictures or to disrespect me.  I don't judge other people's dynamics but if you're on here and you're lying to someone about it, look elsewhere.  I will love your pet and will probably be more affectionate with them than with you.  I have a very hard time not treating people like I've known them for the past millennium so don't take offense to my kindness.  I love to play games, just none that involve a person's vital organs if you catch my drift.  I'm not needy, I'm a very busy person and I care about the people in my life so if I make time for you please respect that.  Please have something intelligent to say, I love conversation.  I'm not looking to have a fantastic conversation one minute and be ignored and treated like I'm nothing the next.  I have the attention span of a squirrel, if you can hold my attention for more than five minutes I will love you until the Earth falls apart.  If you message me and all you can say is "What's up?" I'm going to ignore you. If all you can say to me is how amazing my boobs look in the black dress (**note, a picture I put on there on purpose to weed out the dicks), I will block you.   Oh, and don't be a lying douche.  It's just bad form.

And I don't have any interest or want to hear about all of the shitty relationships you've had constantly.  Or making me feel inadequate by sharing all of your amazing stories about how your ex had the most amazing body in the history of boobs.  Stop storing memories of failure better than a camel stores water.  Talk about the past at appropriate times;  sexy time, is not that time.

Another thing:  You know how some guys buy flowers or drinks in bars for girls?  Why can't people do that in other stores?  Like when I'm looking at a comic book store and someone walks up to me and offers to buy me the #13 Quantum Leap or some Calvin & Hobbes or that Stay Puft marshmallow man piggy bank (that I still regret not buying when I saw it at Bull Moose), there is a bigger chance that things would work out in their favor.

And when it comes to relationships:  fuck the flowers and the gifts.  I just want to know that you think about me because you don't just say it.  You show it by touching me like it's agony on your hands not to.

I give up.