Why I do not date

There is a reason I do not date. There is also a reason I do not meet friends of the person I am not dating. But on Saturday night I broke both of these rules in one foul swoop and I clearly paid the price. It was drinks for his birthday, and I was invited on Tuesday night. I declined, I mean the thought of meeting all the friends as well as him in one go was simply too much pressure for me (he was an online dating site find…need I say more?) over the next few days he kept asking me to come, telling me it would be a real fun night and that they are all really laid back and cool people. I still managed to hold my ground and remain in control. Saturday night came and the text messages started, inviting me to join them as it simply wasn’t going to be as fun without me there. After the sixth message by 9.00pm I gave in, thinking what else did I have to lose? I was at home, alone on a Saturday night, perhaps, perhaps I might even have a good time. So I agreed to meet them at the pub. At 9.00pm, I jumped in the shower. I washed my hair and even shaved my legs. I did my hair and put on a dress and became that girl who gives a shit about the first impression…. I needn’t have bothered really.

 

Now if I were a guy, I’d have told the girl to call me when she arrived so I could come out and walk her inside to introduce her to my friends, but then, I’m not a guy, I am the girl and what seems polite and common sense to us, does not always seem to occur to the men. He simply sent me a message saying look for a big group in the beer garden. So when I arrived, i wandered over to their table. There was no standing up and grabbing me a chair, instead it was a “This is everyone, get yourself a chair and sit down.” Clearly, I was the only sober person at the table bar the lovely man I was sitting next to, who I later found out was Ben. The “date” completely ignored me. So there I was, sipping on my wine feeling a little like a shag on a rock, wishing I could shrivel up and be blown away into the wind. Ben, out of courtesy, began talking to me. He asked me if this was the first date. And I replied, “I don’t date, but if I did, then yes I think this would be the first date, although, it appears it is clearly not as I’m being completely ignored.” He agreed and so the two of us began chatting. He was a nice guy.

 

The person who was sitting next to my “date” got up to get some more drinks and it was then I was summonsed over to sit next to him. The only conversation he made to me was to “drink up” to which I replied, “I drove here”. This was met with some distaste, and he decided it was time for shots, Jaeger Bombs, to which I declined. He seems to be the type of person who keeps harping on and on about something until you give in, but I was not giving in on the shots business. I was driving, and I would stay for two drinks and leave. I was now sitting next to his other mate called Matt, who was at least making an effort to talk to me, even if he was completely drunk and asking me the same thing over and over, because he kept forgetting. At least he was making an effort. I thought I was home free when last drinks were called, but they all decided to head to another pub, which was really close to where I lived. I was going to sneak away when Ben said, just come along, you can leave at any time. So I said I would drop my car home and walk up. Ben, Matt and my “date” would come in my car and then we would walk up together.

 

We all piled into the car and I started it. Matt was impressed with my choice of radio station and asked me to hit the CD button to see if I was some sort of secret “Beyonce” fan. They were even more surprised to see my CD player revealed Ben Harper. I was singing along when the “date” spoke up…. “Do you have a wet one for Ben Harper.” The question did not even warrant an answer so I kept on driving and Ben from the back piped up, “you don’t have to say every thought that pops into your tiny brain.” I parked and we got out of the car and commenced the walk to the pub. When we arrived, there was a band playing and it was some 80s band, pretty cool tunes, but we walked straight through to the outdoor area so they could all smoke. When we were sitting around he looks at me and says “Just say it.” “Say what I ask?” “That you are interested in someone else.” I look at him perplexed, “someone else?” I ask. “Yeah someone inside.” I look at him and shake my head, “Seriously, we walked straight through the inside and out here, I didn’t even have time to look at another person let alone get interested in one.” I replied. So by now I am thinking this guy is a wee bit odd. Then he asks the world’s worst question ever, “Can I kiss you?” Seriously, what do you say to that? Any man that has to ask you if they can kiss you has issues. Just do it. Just go for it an kiss her already. I look at Ben, and ask him if he is single and he nods. “Ben, I am about to give you the best tip ever… Never, never ask a girl if you can kiss her, just go for it.” he smiles and laughs. The date is still waiting for an answer, but I will not give one, instead he tries to kiss me and I pull away. This angers him.

 

The night goes on and on with more rude comments from the “date”, but at the end of the evening we are sitting around, and he is standing next to me, when he turns to his girlfriend and says, “So should I ditch this girl?” I am right there. Sitting right next to him, fully aware of what he has just asked her. I spin around and tell him how rude he is. I tell him if he doesn’t know and needs to ask someone then its pretty clear he should “ditch” me. However, given the amount of rude comments I’ve endured all evening, you don’t need to make a decision, because I’ve already decided to ditch you. He looks at me bewildered and Ben and matt have these shocked looks on their faces. I turn to them both and apologise for making them feel uncomfortable as this was not my intention, I will finish my smoke and I am leaving. Matt tells me not to leave and instead to go out with he and Ben. I thank him for the offer, but there is no chance, I’m going home. The “date” gets the shits and leaves. I am sitting there thinking I have just been on the worst date of my life, thinking it possibly could not get any worse. But it does.

 

I get up to leave and as I am walking out the “date” walks back in. He grabs me all apologetic, “Can’t we sit and talk? Sort things out? I never meant to upset you, you’re great, and a lovely girl and I think I may have fucked everything up.” I look at him and nod. We sit down and he starts spilling his guts about everything he wants. Children, a wife, and how he plans to move to Coffs Harbour in a year, and if I want to hang around for that I can. I look at him and I shake my head. I tell him I have no plans of moving to Coffs Harbour, and that perhaps he needs to stop focussing on the future so much and looking for the girl who is going to fit in with his plans and instead just be in the now and take things as they come. He starts yelling at me. I can’t even make sense of what he is saying, apart from the part where he refers to me as a “fucking bitch”. I put my glass of wine down. Stand up and spin on my heel and walk out. I walk as fast as I can. I can hear him calling my name out. I start to almost run, in order to make some distance between us. He was too drunk to keep up and he drops back. He opts for the easy way, and decides to call me. I don’t answer. I don’t answer the nine consecutive calls he makes to me on the walk home.

 

I get home, still flabbergasted at the turnout of the evening. I can hear my phone ringing again inside. I wash my face, turn my phone to silent and hop into bed.

 

The morning greets me with a hangover from hell. Not only did I have the worst ever date of my life, but I have a headache which resembles numerous ice picks stabbing through my eyes. I pick up my phone and investigate the fifteen missed calls from the “date”. I think, seriously? I didn’t answer the fourteen other times he called, why would he think I would answer the fifteenth time at 3.45am?? I turn the phone back onto to ringing in case someone of importance needs to contact me and roll back over and close my eyes again. I wake again at 11.30am to a message from the “date”, it reads “Are we talking?” I do nothing for a while. I drag myself out of bed and get something to drink and some tablets for the ice pick head ache. I drink some juice and pray I will be able to hold it down. A shower, a shower will make me feel better, and yet I could not even bring myself to stand there, so with the beauty of having my shower over the bath, I sat under the running water, letting it wash all the filth and disrespect from the night before away. I get out and dress. I pick up the phone and type a message back; “I did my hair and put on a dress for you and you were incredibly rude to me. I deserve better than that, so no, we’re not talking.” He sends back a message saying “OK, I’m sorry if I was, I don’t remember.”

 

I think what a cop out. If you are going to drink yourself into an arrogant ass of a man, at least have the balls to admit what you’ve done the following day. Acting as if you don’t remember is a cop out and cowardly. I grab some suitable hang over food and chill out for a bit. I doze on and off and finally, by 3.30pm I am feeling almost human. I log on to my computer to check my emails, but mostly to delete the “date” from my Facebook page. I delete him from my messenger list as I see he is online, but he sends me a message anyway. “Hi?” I shake my head, is this guy seriously this stupid? Four hours ago I tell him we are not speaking, and yet here he is still trying. I simply send back ?. He comes back apologising again. I tell him it’s not alright, I tell him he was a fuck wit. He was so rude to the point he actually called me a fucking bitch, which is why I walked out. I tell him it was the worst date of my life. He apologises again and says he does not understand why he would have said such a thing considering he does not think of me that way. Then, the best part…. He sends me his address and says I’m about to watch a move, come over. I say no thanks and log off.

 

Seriously! Seriously, this is why I do not date!

Sex

Is it possible to ever really have meaningless sex? Doesn’t sex always mean something to one of the parties partaking in the actual sex? You see… I have has sex with someone and not wanted to have sex with them but I have had sex with them because I could, because it gave me the power in the situation or simply to make myself feel empty and worthless afterwards.  And then there has been times when I have really wanted to have sex with the other party and they’ve just had sex with me to use me, or because they simply could. But there always seems to be one party who wants more or something different to the other party. So I pose the question; is it really possible for two people to have complete, unattached sex without it ending badly, or with one party getting hurt?

 There is this person, who very much would like to have sex with me. And this person is someone I would very much want to have sex with, but he has just come out of a relationship and doesn’t really want another girlfriend. He’s been honest with me, that should count for something right? But I fear I actually do like him, and if I do like him, then the possibility of me liking him more will grow with time and hence there will come a point in time when I will want more than just sex, possibly after the first time… so do I hold myself true and not give in to his wants and desires, and yet punish myself from what could be excellent sex in order to protect myself from getting hurt? Or, do I have sex with him, and then if it is good, and I want more, then stop before I can get hurt? I mean what if the sex is bad, I’ve not lost anything really.

 I wish I was able to be more like a man when it came to sex. I wish I was the type of person who could have meaningless sex with another person because I simply could. Without hating myself afterwards and without wanting more, without the hang-ups and without hoping, praying he wants something more as well. Without having to think that I can change them into wanting me if I have more sex with them… but I’m not. I’m not that person and so I should save my heart now.

The first date of 2009

So I managed to survive my first date of 2009. It was actually fun… however, he ended up back at my place and I have to say, that really was not the plan. Although empty sex is still just empty sex… I no longer really care. The thing is this, why can’t women date like men? Have meaningless sex and not care if he calls or does not call.

The thing I hate is the next morning though. When you wake up and see they are still there. Still asleep and snoring in your bed. How long do you have to potter around your own place waiting for them to wake up? I tend to put the kettle on, the noise of it usually wakes them up… we have a coffee and then I am edging on, OK, perhaps it is time to leave, when he asks to take me to breakfast… I was floored. So unexpected and odd… I declined and instead offered to drive him back to the city to get his car.

The fear of dating

It is happening again…the fear…the butterflies and the unmistakable urge to run far, far away. Why does dating do this to me? More to the point why do I allow the thought of a date to do this to me? I’ve been scattered all day and it’s not that I have been worried about it, I’m just feeling uneasy. It’s that uncomfortableness that makes me want to run away, makes me want to cancel the date, but I can’t. Cancelling goes against all my new years resolutions and I’m not doing that anymore. I am seizing the opportunity.

Our plans have had to change because it is raining, or about to and you can’t sit in the open air theatre in the rain, so I’m being taken to see some live music in town. It’s some sort of funk band and I have a sneaking suspicion it is not going to be my music… but again, I’m going with it, because I might actually enjoy myself… gasp, horror. This is what is all about anyway, my fear of having a good time and thinking I don’t deserve to have good things happen to me, which is really a load of shit. It’s all that other crap I’d been told in past relationships, but it’s not me now.

So to remedy the urge I have to run, I’m going to go and sit and meditate. I need to centre myself and remember that I am adequate for all situations. Where has that funny, confident girl gone?

Dating

What is it about dating that freaks me out? You see I am not one for small talk and it seems that small talk is a prerequisite of dating. There is so much anticipation, nervousness and the need to impress. What if he doesn’t like me? What if I don’t like him? Can you leave after one drink? What is the polite number of drinks and small talk you need to make before you can leave? Perhaps this is why I have bailed on two dates in the past two days. Dating freaks me out and yet how can I expect to meet someone without going on a date? I have tried the whole online dating thing before and it seemed that I was meeting fuck wit after fuck wit. Guys who only want sex, and don’t get me wrong, sex is good, I like sex, but in my maturing age I have come realise that empty sex only leads me to feel more inadequate about the person I am than I felt before the sex. Making love, however corny that may sound, is so much more appealing to me than empty sex. I’ve never been able to be the girl that can have a “friends with benefits” relationship and I think that this is because I end up becoming vulnerable in this situation. Vulnerability is perhaps one step above dating that freaks me out.

I want the kisses that take your breath away and the hand holding and the hand in the small of your back as you are lead into a room full of people that makes you feel safe and secure and warm. But how am I supposed to get there when I can’t even let myself go on a date? I have hang ups on men. Sure I’ve had my share of bad relationships but so has everyone else in life, so what makes me so different from the next person? Why is it that when the possibility of a relationship even raises its head slightly that I have to fight every urge in my body not to run? How did I end up getting so damaged that the mere thought of a date can be enough to make me want to run and hide from the world and isolate myself in the smallness of my apartment?

So how do I get over this? How do I tell myself to harden the fuck up and move on with life? Do I just say fuck it??? I don’t care if you hurt me, do not like me or use me for sex, and just go for it? How can I keep myself safe and yet still open to the experience of life, dating and perhaps one day love? I have only ever loved one person in my entire life, and the only reason I could love that person was because he was unable to love me the same way. He was married and although he loved me, although he loved me more than his wife, I knew he would never leave her, and so it was safe for me. It was safe to love and to be loved unconditionally and with all my faults. I never needed to be anything other than myself; all damaged and fucked up in the head and he still loved me. He was the only person who never turned away from me because they did not understand me. He never understood me, and yet he never left me. In the end, it was I who left him. I had the courage to know that there was more to life than being loved in parts and on terms that were out of my control. So if I left him, does this not mean that I want the kind of love that lasts a lifetime? The kind of love that makes you ache inside when you re not with the other person?

I know I am only protecting myself in all of this, but I also know that in protecting myself I have been able to isolate myself from the entire world and all the experiences in it. So how do I stop doing this? How do I remain protected, aloof and yet obtainable? How can I protect my heart and still keep it open for love? I need to get this right. I want to get this right, because as much as I tell myself I don’t need to get married, I don’t need to have children and make a home with someone, a family with someone, I really want to. I want all those things little girls dream of and yet these are the very things I never dreamt of as a child. I never believed in that whole biological clock a ticking…but Christ… I think mine is tick, tick, ticking.

I want to be a better person. I want to be able to let go of control for once in my life and take the dream with both hands and open my mouth wide and scream “YES”, “Yes, I take life for all it has to offer and everything in it.” I want to feel love and see love and to not be constantly afraid of it.

So if anyone out there has any advice or ideas on how I can open my heart and yet remain protected… please, please let me in on the tips.