It’s been a while since I’ve shared my tragic relationship endeavors with the world…
Since my last post the baby daddy in question is still around. Still tall dark and handsome. Still making my brain fuzzy. Still haven’t had sex. Still has a kid. Still wondering what in God’s name I am doing with my life.
We’ve gone on a few dates. The first was actually fucking perfect, in my sense of the word. I can honestly say I’ve never had a better first date. Fuck. We met a park and walked around talking for hours. We talked about everything from my fear of birds to his son moving from breast milk to solid foods (I swear the conversation was better than what I’ve just described). We went to get frozen ice and he opened the car door for me (which I hate; it’s 2018 and I have two fucking arms). I tolerated this but made it known that it’s 2018 and I have two fucking arms. He laughed. We sat on a bench and talked until it got chilly. After making our way back to the park, and my car, he opened that God damn door again and walked me to my car. We kissed. My God did we kiss. I haven’t felt that feeling in a long time. Lucky for him I took longer than usual to pull away (fending off the fuzzy brain) and suddenly heard a tap on my window… Was this it? Was he back to… kill me, dismember my body and burry me in the woods. At least I’d look hot when they found my body. Turns out I should stop watching Criminal Minds. His car battery died because he has left his head lights on for hours. Secretly excited to have more time with this beautiful man, I waited an hour or maybe more with him. We watched Netflix shows on his phone and talked even more. He had a nerdy obsession with WWE until the about 16 and lost his virginity at 18. Finally I arrived home around 12am and found a text from the charming bastard telling me the date was perfect and he was thrilled with me. Not too cheese, pretty sure there was a sarcastic comment intertwined in his adorableness. YUM-O.
Seriously fuck me.
Fast forward two dates and I’m left twiddling my thumbs. We had a dinner date and a movie date and then things got quite. He seems throughly pleased to be chatting with me each time we’ve spoken since then and yet there is a lingering feeling that maybe he’s pulling back. Either that or he’s got his son this week (stomach churning nausea). Or both? Maybe both. He’s too nice to cut it off and now I’m attached. I miss the good old days of not having feelings and one and done sex… I think.
*Looking in the mirror because WHO THE FUCK AM I*
I am now stuck in this unsettling limbo waiting to see what will happen next. As I sat at work today absentmindedly pondering my situation (employee of the month!!!) I found myself wondering: “Do I wish him happy Father’s Day this weekend?”.
Sedate me and have me committed. Please.