I had a sex dream last night about someone I used to date. Now I don’t want to imply that I have any negative feelings toward him, but this is an actual quote from something I once wrote about our relationship:
“Getting back in touch with you completely ruined your memory for me. Up until now, I've been able to think of you as someone who was worth loving, basically a good person who was going through a rough time and just didn't treat me the way you should have. But now I realize that period of your life wasn't an anomaly. You're just a jackass."
The sex dream itself was horrific enough, but in the dream, I was just so pitifully, disgustingly grateful that he was showing me attention. All of my friends were furious and wouldn’t speak to me because I hooked up with him again (Which is pretty much exactly what would happen in real life). And I was grateful. Ugh. Ever have one of those dreams that makes you wish you could clean out your brain with bleach and lye soap? Or maybe volunteer for a lobotomy? Seriously, ugh.
I think it’s because I’ve been thinking of starting to date again. I haven’t been on a real date in five years. Some would (and have) said that perhaps five years of punishing myself for falling in love with the aforementioned wrong guy is long enough, and it’s time to practice some self-forgiveness. I think they may be right…
I’ve long held the theory that fat girls are invisible—that guys just don’t see me. But I’m beginning to suspect that might be more a product of some internal thing I was projecting. Because I’m in a really good space right now, and really happy with my life. And three different men asked me for my phone number last week. Yeah, talk about making me hold my head a little higher…
So this is it. I’m getting back on the horse. (Figuratively, gutter-brain!) My friend’s fiancé has a cute friend, and I told him to offer the friend my phone number. My instructions: “If he wants it, great. If not, just don’t ever mention it to me again.” I figure that way, I get potential positive results without that messy risk of rejection. And a few friends have mentioned setting me up lately, and my response, “Go for it.” (Okay, in the interest of full disclosure, I first made comments along the lines of, “You know someone who’s looking for a fat, clumsy girl?” But still, I said yes. Wish me luck!
“Getting back in touch with you completely ruined your memory for me. Up until now, I've been able to think of you as someone who was worth loving, basically a good person who was going through a rough time and just didn't treat me the way you should have. But now I realize that period of your life wasn't an anomaly. You're just a jackass."
The sex dream itself was horrific enough, but in the dream, I was just so pitifully, disgustingly grateful that he was showing me attention. All of my friends were furious and wouldn’t speak to me because I hooked up with him again (Which is pretty much exactly what would happen in real life). And I was grateful. Ugh. Ever have one of those dreams that makes you wish you could clean out your brain with bleach and lye soap? Or maybe volunteer for a lobotomy? Seriously, ugh.
I think it’s because I’ve been thinking of starting to date again. I haven’t been on a real date in five years. Some would (and have) said that perhaps five years of punishing myself for falling in love with the aforementioned wrong guy is long enough, and it’s time to practice some self-forgiveness. I think they may be right…
I’ve long held the theory that fat girls are invisible—that guys just don’t see me. But I’m beginning to suspect that might be more a product of some internal thing I was projecting. Because I’m in a really good space right now, and really happy with my life. And three different men asked me for my phone number last week. Yeah, talk about making me hold my head a little higher…
So this is it. I’m getting back on the horse. (Figuratively, gutter-brain!) My friend’s fiancé has a cute friend, and I told him to offer the friend my phone number. My instructions: “If he wants it, great. If not, just don’t ever mention it to me again.” I figure that way, I get potential positive results without that messy risk of rejection. And a few friends have mentioned setting me up lately, and my response, “Go for it.” (Okay, in the interest of full disclosure, I first made comments along the lines of, “You know someone who’s looking for a fat, clumsy girl?” But still, I said yes. Wish me luck!
7 comments:
You don't need luck, you need courage.
Polly, We all know I have physical courage up the wazoo. It's the emotional courage I lack completely.
I wish you the best of luck. I never really entered the dating world at all, not really. I can only imagine how nerve racking it can be.
Three phone numbers, you go girl!
And how come I didn't know about this blog until today! Geeze, am I the last to know everything?
Bookgirl - I personally think you should send yourself on an emotional high and not wait around for the men to call you. YOU CALL THEM, Bookgirl! You ask them out!
Let's not get crazy, now, Liz. I want to get back on the horse (preferably of the tall, handsome variety). I'm not quite ready for the Kentucky Derby.
I agree with Polly.When in doubt remember how set cousin J will make us. Emotional courage rocks!
Good thing I have my girl armor!
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