Cootersnap!

Fact: I can't swing a dead cat in this town without beaning one of my ex-boyfriends.

Fact: I have more ex-boyfriends than I have leg hair. (I hate shaving... besides, I'm blonde. It doesn't really show and quite frankly, I like the way it feels when a summer breeze runs through it.)

Fact: I'm friends with all of my ex-boyfriends except for two (the Ex-Fiance and Twitch).

Anyway, here's my tale:

Once upon a time, I dated someone named Blake. It was after the EF and I had split, and I had some issues that revolved around trust. Specifically that I did NOT trust anyone who wanted to date me. The EF made certain to destroy my sense of self, my willpower, my ability to trust people until they gave me a reason not to. This period in my life is somewhat hazy. It took me damn near three years to yank my ass out of the emotional rut the EF had helped me create (due in LARGE part to my best-ever friend, Amos DeLaKeech, figuratively slapping me across the face and saying "Fucking get over it already!!") But even then, I still shied away from relationships, unsure if there was really anything about ME as a person that another person could understand, much less like. Mostly, I was just aloof. I'd go out on a few dates with a guy, then before things got too close, I'd date someone else. No commitment, no strings, no lies. It was an unfulfilling way to live, but it was how I dealt with my lack of self-confidence.

Then I met Blake. He seemed so shy and self-effacing. Sweet. We started spending time together, and before we knew it, we were 'dating'. We were comfortable together. We would cook dinner just about every Saturday night at his house and watch movies. The more I began to like him, the more that gnawing sensation in my gut started acting up. With not so much as an explanation to him, I told him that I just wanted to be friends with him. It was a little crappy for awhile, but then we really did become friends. I'd still go over on Saturdays after work, we'd still cook dinner together. There just wasn't the aspect anymore to our relationship that made me back off. In other words, I was terrified to have sex again. Afraid I would get hurt like EF had hurt me.

This state of affairs lasted for quite awhile. We were happy to spend time with each other. We would talk about our love lives with each other... not that I had that much to discuss. But it was close, comfortable and not threatening. Then, in the space of a few e-mails, we found ourselves in the middle of an imbroglio that ended our friendship. I had lost one of my best friends. Years have passed since then. We eventually came around to civil nods, then waves, then brief conversations and even a few e-mails.

I think it was about three or four (??? I can't remember) years ago that Blake got married. We barely saw each other, even in passing. By that time, it wasn't a void anymore, though. It just was...

Last Sunday, my friend Brian and I went out to the Sutliff bridge, hung out, ate bad greazzzy food (that was delicious!), and talked about all manner of things. I poured my heart out to him about what I wished I could find in a partner, but on the verge of 39, I've pretty much gotten over the idea of 'soul mate'. Later that afternoon, I was sitting in George's working the NY Times crossword, and Blake came in with his ultimate frisbee teammates. We chatted for a little while, he told me that he and and his wife were in the process of divorcing and he was living with his friend J. That news really saddened me... just remembering how very sensitive (almost fragile in a way) Blake is. This is not to say he's some namby-pamby kind of wuss. But he's extremely trusting and loving... and the idea that he was hurting made me hurt, too.

We decided to hook up 'sometime' for a couple games of cribbage, a few beers... just get caught up. He called the next day. I'd ended up working at George's that night (baaaad night... the T's were there and I couldn't bring myself to wait on them), but got the message when I got home. So I called him back the next day (Tuesday), and we met Wednesday night.

I don't know why I'm really writing about all of this, except that I'm confused. Again. I have so many feelings of distrust that evolved from EF, that are now layered with the lies Twitch and Twatch told me. It's hard for me to believe a lot of shit that comes out of people's mouths. And there are times I'm not sure I can believe in myself. Actions speak louder than words.

***

Blake called when I was home for lunch this afternoon. Dinner and a movie (as soon as I clean my apartment). Cribbage on Sunday after he's done working out. I want to be open with him, like we once were. But I'm afraid. And I don't know what to do.

And besides, he gave me a damn hickey. I wish I could say it's a 'tasteful' hickey, but there is no such thing in my book. I think they're tacky, and I think it makes me look like a slut. I need Vadergrrrl to give him a giant WHAP! Sigh. He's 41, 42 and I'm 38 going on 50. What are we doing? We're old enough to know better. Aren't we?