I’ve tried to write this blog post for two days. The first day I was exhausted from lack of sleep and shopping. My brain seemed disjointed, and I could not type. I stared at the blank page for hours, and finally came up with some drivel about a past boyfriend that I wouldn’t show my cat(s).
I have 4 at the moment. Rory a tuxedo black and white that lives primarily outside, she’s a good cat, just bit of an adventurer. Lily a black fuzzball that recently gave birth to 5 kittens, of those I still have 2. The kittens are Rumple and Gizmo (both are female, I’m an equal opportunity name giver.)
Day 2 in this blog post brought another attempt with another ex, and I was too sad to write. I had no reason for depression to bring its ugly into the picture, but today was worse by far than depression. I woke up today around four pm and could barely sit up. I was freezing, and my head was spinning.
After a 2 hour nap later on I felt better, and so I’ll try once more to write this post. I have a feeling it will be a whatever there is type post. I hope it’s up to snuff.
During a bitter winter, I met a teacher. I found him after casting my hook into the POF waters.
His profile was amazing, he was looking for a relationship, and he was very well written. He had a love of comics, he had a job, and I was intrigued. We quickly started up a conversation via the site, and he had me smiling on more than one occasion.
Fast forward a week, and we’re on the phone. He kept weird hours, he would wake up around 2 or 3 in the morning go to work, and then sleep shortly after getting off from work. While strange for a day worker, it’s no weirder than waking up at 3 or 4 in the afternoon, working all night, and sleeping from 7am until time to wake up on the night shift.
We would talk for about three weeks on the phone when he invited me over. I’d done adequate research, I’d asked the proper questions around town and he worked here. I’d left my number in so many places, and had so many people expecting me to call by a certain time, that I felt relatively safe. I’d given my family and friends his address, and thanks to google maps they’d be able to find my body in the woods by his house, if I didn’t call.
I fixed my face as I finished work that Sunday afternoon, and headed off towards parts unknown. Ultimately, Teacher’s house.
It was out In the country, but I’d known that before heading out. It was a nice house, and he had lots of animals. Well by lots that’s a dry overstatement. He had two cats and two dogs. They were nice animals that were very loving. I actually felt at ease around him, and we fell into a gentle cadence.
He was thin as a rail but quite attractive. He had blondish hair, and a bright smile. He was so intelligent, and I found myself enjoying our conversation. We’d watch Arrow on hulu, and we talked for about an hour, and somehow or another we ended up fooling around on the couch, then headed back to his room for more in depth probing.
But he had a problem keeping it up. Yes, as an overweight woman the first thought goes to me, it’s my fault. I’m too fat, I’m hideous, or I’m smelly. (note: I’m overweight, I’m fat, I don’t like how I look most of the time, but I’m NOT smelly.)
He started sneezing. Fierce horrible sneezes that wracked his body, but bless his heart he kept trying. Then his nose started to drip, and I don’t know if you have ever tried to stay interested in what was going on when someone’s nose had the ability to drip snot on you at any minute, but it wasn’t going to end well for me.
His next rush to the Kleenex, I called it on the count of sneeze-snot…rain? I told him it wasn’t his fault he was sick, and I got dressed. We talked for a few more minutes.. We walked outside and had a smoke, then off I went like a rocket.
My phone was full of missed messages, missed calls. The family, the friends were freaking out. I’d left my phone in the car, and his house was in a bit of a dead cell area. I postponed the texts, and as soon as I had signal started the rounds of calling.
I tried to dodge the ‘how was it’ questions, but no go my family and friends are rabid vultures when it comes to dates (as I don’t go on that many obviously).
Over the next week we talked a couple of days. Then he disappeared. Full on ghost mode achieved. Blinkie from Pac Man had nothing on this guy. We had a date scheduled for a movie Friday, but that never happened.
I was sad for about an hour or maybe two, then I moved on. Why cry over spilt milk, I’ve got cats to lick that up right?
A few months goes by, and I received a text out of the blue.
Teacher: I miss you. I didn’t realize I’d been so busy. How long has it been anyway?
Now I’m all for giving a second shot, and I admit this was shady on his part, but I still kind of liked the guy, so I said it again… “Sure why not.” I wrote him back and we started over from square one.
A week or so later, I was back at his place. We had a great time, and yes my slutty side got the better of me and I gave him a second try in the probing department. I’d like to say fireworks were seen in the sky, that everything glittered, and maybe I passed out from sheer amazingness of the act. However, all of those things would be a lie. He could not keep it up. AGAIN.
Now I had thoughts before that it was me, and those were intensified greatly by the second non-coming. He made all the excuses, “this totally never happens!” He grew more upset and proclaimed “I swear to God I don’t know what is going on.”
I merely stood up and got dressed, and walked into his living room. I grabbed my keys, my phone, and I headed for my car leaving him staring after me. It took him about five minutes to come outside where I had just decided to put the car in reverse, attempting to save any dignity I had left, when he knocked on the window of my vehicle.
Teacher: Your tire is low, let me at least do that for you.
I nodded, unsure that I’d keep from crying, as I apparently was disgusting and vile and unbecoming of at least an erection. It was depressing, it was… it just was.
He aired up my tire, I said goodbye, and I left. I didn’t expect him to call me again. I didn’t call him either. I moved on quickly, with no want nor need to see him, hear his voice, or think of the two failed attempts at sex.
A few months ago I randomly happened to call him. My friend’s name and his were similar. Meaning to call the friend, I heard a familiar but unexpected voice on the phone.
Teacher: Who is this?
me: Oh, uh, shit. It’s Madison, I didn’t mean to call you. Sorry.
Teacher: Yea so, I’m with my girlfriend sorry.
OK so let’s rehash this. I had deleted his number from my phone, but not from google. So when I got my phone it has showed back up. Note: Always double delete.
He had to slip in the girlfriend comment, Why? It’s not like I cared what he was doing. I had no dog in the fight so to speak. Did he do it because he wanted me to know, or was it to make the girlfriend feel better? Ahh, I bet it was to puff out his chest and stake claim on the girl. I don’t care.
Time passed as it was supposed to. And It was now a few weeks ago. Another round of “I’m horny, lonely, and you are still available” later, and I’m looking at the computer screen in jest.
Teacher: I miss you.
Me: Keep trying, eventually your aim will get better.
Teacher: I get it, you are angry. I treated you like crap and I’m sorry.
Me: Nah it’s ok, I realized it’s just your way. You get horny you contact me.
Teacher: It’s not like that.
Me: Really? Then what is it like?
Teacher: I really like you, and I want to see you again.
Me: Well, I’m not sure that’s a good idea.
Teacher: What about Friday?
Me: I’m busy, I have to work.
That was that. He stopped messaging. I wasn’t available when he was Horny, and he wasn’t available to be a decent human being. I guess the only saving grace is that he’s doing this with full-fledged adult women, and not his teenage students.