Is that all there is?

The good thing about falling for so many douchebags is that you start to get the hang of the whole bouncing back quickly thing.
You cry and you feel so stupid and you wonder why god why??
And then you remember they weren't that good at bringing you to climax anyway and surely there's some other well endowed asshole out there who actually knows what to do with his hands.

I've so already sung this tune before.

I have to say though, this must be like, a new record for me being devasted and then angry and finally complacent all in a matter of three days.
Yay me!
We shall call this GROWTH.

See, I think I mistakenly fell into that oh so cliched category of You don't love him but merely love what you believe he could be.
I certainly loved the idea of his shirt off.
I think I never moved past the tongue down my throat part.
Is there any other part??

Only since I'm a man (in a Joan a la Mad Men's body) I always date men that are secretly women who'd rather "just talk" than get naked and shut up.

It is my inevitable fate of doom that I will forever be attracted to narcissistic melancholic men who are more interested in themselves that in my naked body.
Ha. Ha ha. Ha ha ha ha.
Good one, Big G!
Joke's on me!

Here's a Reese tip on dating: If a guy starts wooing you when he's still married, don't meet him for drinks.
I only had to learn that lesson twice before I finally picked up on the shortcomings.
Literally, in one instance.

I think what's so richly liberating in this particular instance is that he really made it so easy for me.
He is just a heartless jellyfish.
You know when you've really loved someone and they truly care for you, there are parts of them that are awful, sure, but then there are those lovable qualities, those moments where they were there for you and considerate and affectionate.
And wonderful.

But when I look back over the last few months at our interactions I can see the times I was really considerate and affectionate.....and waiting for him to return the favor.
No. Seriously.
Was there ever one instance between us where the interaction was not entirely self serving on his part?
None.

I'm just such a damn Pollyanna when it comes to the schmucks I dig I ignore all the tell tale signs.
You can say hello.
You can come lay with me.
You can buy me a drink.
What a privilege! I live to serve!

Wait......am I his fucking slave??

Gah! But it's all just too easy.
He's totally screwing up the story.
See, he's supposed to do one quasi decent thing to try and redeem himself so we all think MAYBE he's not the villain he appears to be.
And then the story is full of unpredictable ebbs and flows.
What will he do next? Will he get closer or withdraw further away?
Stay tuned next week!

But no, he just writes some half hearted reason for why his panties are in a twist and gives me the final send off that he can't be bothered to deal with me?
LEARN YOUR LINES, JACKASS!! WHAT KIND OF LEADING MAN ARE YOU?!
No wonder his favorite movie is Anchorman.
He IS Anchorman only less charming.
God I hate that stupid movie.

I don't like being a part of boring stories!
My pride is squirming.
At least Mr. Volcano made me mixed cds and followed me to a concert in Bend after he was an asshole.
At least he made things interesting.
But noooooo.
This guy's all, durrrr, I can't kiss you because I might feel something and I can't be your friend because that, huh, takes like, work and stuff.

L-A-M-E.

I'm already going to be done writing about it after this because there isn't even anything left worth talking about.
I'm so disappointed.

Thankfully, there is juicy scandalousness on the horizon.....
I have a date on my birthday....
And I don't even know if he's straight.

Now THAT'S a real fucking blog.