Hooked up

I’m trying not to be mad while I write this, but much to my reluctance, I tried online dating. I had been a hermit for quite some time, and thought I might just dip my toe in. Much like anything you order online, you’ll try it on and it never quite fits the way you expect. You decide however that you might as well wear it out. Let’s see how it holds up through the tumble cycle. This seemingly gentleman is vaccinated and an atheist. He struts a black cowboy hat and a winner’s smile. We have some friendly musician friends in common. I agree to meet for 45min on a Tuesday. 45 minutes quickly turns into 48hours of one of the best dates ever. We bounce from several bars with conversation that covers the gambit. I ask him straight out, maybe in the same sentence, whether his dick works and whether or not he is a cokehead. He laughs and gives me a suitable answer. We get along well enough to sit on a swing and move on to make out by the graveyard like teenagers. The sun starts to rise, and the onlooking daywalkers indicate we had better find private shelter. My place is a no go as I am crashing with Mom momentarily and he is living with family in some struggle. We venture up to Mt. Tabor to find a hidden spot in the woods to further enjoy as the weather is in our favor and I have fuzzy blankets to lay down. After a silly cacophony of fooling around and so called sleep, we get back up to forage for bloody marys. I dent my SUV backing up into a big rock as I exit the parking lot and off we go. We get a cheap motel room for the night, dishevel every corner of the bed. Cover every subject, when we come up for air through laughs and tears. We begin to fake the nature of our relationship to strangers that ask. Red flags tossed aside as we hang tight for weeks with some argument, but mostly making up. He does my dishes, and at his stature can silence a smoke detector with a simple touch. I listen to his every word and invite him to join in my bubble baths. He’s on my clam like an octopus for better or worse and I have to fend off his legs wrapping around me like boa constrictors. It doesn’t take long before he tells me he loves me and has written a song.
A song of which I may now never hear. He came on strong and vibrant, but with a bias ear. I am never one to trust the honeymoon stage of just getting to know someone, but I do my best to enjoy it. Much to his behest, I can not go from 0-100mph in romance. He wanted all in all the time or nothing. He told me he wants “partnership”, which is admirable, and something I ultimately want to. But when “ordering” a date online I said I am looking for “chatting/ something casual/something serious”. I am honest to a fault, and while he thought he was offering “partnership”, I responded, we are not there yet, and if we are then we had better start discussing all the bills that I pay. I light another god awful cigarette and think how there’s always more than one perspective to a story, but this is some of mine. He left in another unnecessary huff, lacking the instant gratification he seemed to actually be seeking. . There’s no moral to this story. No winners or losers, I guess it’s just another day in the life. We will see where my toes goes nows. Meanwhile your cozy comforter is still in the fridge and you left some salami in my bed.

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