Tag Archives: romance

Hey, Cupid, back off

It seems somewhat fitting that I would choose today, Valentine’s Day, to end a more than two-month absence from this space. While many of my friends are getting ready to go to dinner, or spend a romantic night at home, I’m sitting in my chair, feet kicked up, ignoring my pouting Newfoundland, who thinks she needs attention and writing a blog.

And I’m perfectly OK with that.

Actually, given the messages Cupid has been sending me lately, I am more than OK with that.

from Cafepress.com

from Cafepress.com

Yes, I’m going to go on another rant about online dating – but before I do, I’ll concede that it’s not all bad. I’ve met some seemingly decent guys online in the past, and I know an awful lot of people who have found and maintained very good relationships online. I think that’s awesome.

But I’ve got to be honest – I think I may have done something once upon a time to really anger Cupid, and he’s just not letting go. At. All. I mean, really, you know it’s bad when you relay a story of Cupid throwing things around on social media and a friend of 20+ years responds by saying if anyone else had told him the story, he’d know they were talking about me.

Yeah. Cupid’s feud has been that long.

First, there’s the activity I’ve been getting on the online dating sites. I’ve actually had quite a few conversations lately – and I know it’s probably partly due to the fact that Valentine’s Day was on the horizon and no one wanted to be alone. Many of the guys have been decent, I’ve not gotten together with anyone yet because none of the conversations have gone that far.

But those aren’t the guys Cupid is trying to derail me with. Oh, no, those are the ones I’m sure snuck past his watchful gaze and managed to get an email out. The ones Cupid has sent my way include:

  • A two-time convicted felon who got out of a life sentence for international drug dealing by turning on another inmate.
  • A two-time convicted felon release just months ago after two sentences for burglary.
  • A man with a foot fetish who is constantly asking for pictures of my feet – with my nails painted – because they’re so large and he loves big feet. (I swear, I’m not making this up.)
  • A guy from one of my chat groups (whom I’ve never met) who wanted to get together for a threesome. I told him I wasn’t even interested in a stranger twosome.
  • A man who was 5’6″ and living in St. Paul, Minn., who got offended when I told him first that he was too far away and then, when he persisted, that he was too short.
  • A man who, when I asked what his idea of relaxing is, said he dreamed about brushing my hair.
  • The guy who asked if I owned Molly’s Cupcakes, because he wanted to taste the frosting from my lips (seriously, dude, get a better line).

And that’s just in the last few weeks.

I know it’s not just the guys – I did a freelance story on the 40+ crowd turning to online dating, and was told by two men, both in their 50s, that women are just as bad. One of them went to pick up a woman for a dinner date, and she invited him in and took off her clothes. The other talked of women who were having a hard time keeping their story straight from day to day – their lives seemed to change with the turning of the calendar page.

Cupid is on a roll.

Then there’s the things that are happening in real life, not on the computer. Running into reminders of old relationships. Still having to tell people – six months later – that we broke up.

And this. This takes the cake, Cupid, and has made me not only draw the line, but begin to prepare for war:

The other day I was walking in to my doctor’s office – just a follow-up from a small procedure I had done over the holidays – and was checking in at the receptionist’s desk. There were four clerks seated for the two clinics located on that floor. As the clerk I was working with was pulling my file up in the computer, I looked down the line.

There, at the end, was an ex-boyfriend. Not just any ex-boyfriend, but the one ex-boyfriend who makes my skin crawl just thinking about him. The one who was writing a book and, I found out later, got together with me because he thought my connections could help him. The one who, when I introduced him to a very good friend of mine who has written more than a dozen books herself, created a fake name and email account to send her messages, flirting and even asking her out. The one who tried to apologize, and then decided he could become a life coach, and asked for my recommendation on LinkedIn. Twice.

OK, Cupid. Game on.

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The thing about breakups …

Note: This is not a quest for sympathy or well-wishes. I greatly appreciate your thoughts, but one of the reasons I put this post off for so long is because I made it through the hard part. – Molly

Let’s face it, breakups suck. No matter how amicable, how cordial or how mutual they are, they still suck. Injured heart

Sometimes, as with my recent breakup, the more amicable they are, the more they suck. Rather than having that anger/distrust/rejection/fury that comes with a cheat or a liar, you have … nothing. Hurt and sadness. As we were putting an end to our 2 1/2-year relationship as a couple, we were still telling each other how much we loved each other. We made the obligatory “let’s be friends” promise, but unlike most times those words are spoken, I think we actually meant it. We severed our romantic ties a little more than two weeks ago, but we still chat often.

That’s probably because we really are friends. In the 29 months that we were together, there were no fights – no angry words, no yelling, no arguments. There was one topic on which we disagreed, but conversation – although tears were involved – was just that: conversation. What we did do in that time frame was build a great friendship.

Still, the breakup – like any – still sucks.

Breakups suck because of unfulfilled plans. There are so many little things we were going to do – go to the Quad Cities to see a ball game, go to his favorite breakfast joint before it closed, have the first Christmas in his new place, get all the kids together on Christmas Day to see the final installment of “The Hobbit.” Then there are the bigger things: next summer’s vacation (sadly, the breakup came just two weeks after we had a fabulous vacation in Denver); a “someday” trip to Ireland; trips out east and out west. Many of those I can still do on my own, if I want, and some of them I will. Most, though, I probably won’t.

Breakups suck because, as adults, they’re not just between two people. Two whole families broke up. My daughter created close bonds with his daughters and their children. My son became good friends with the guys in his family. We met and loved each others’ friends. I felt like we were one big family – I loved his kids and grandkids and enjoyed all the time we spent with them. I had a great relationship with his mother, and my parents loved him like they never loved anyone else I’d been with.

Breakups suck because, eventually, you begin to see the holes, the places that the relationship wasn’t as “perfect” as you thought it was. I knew we weren’t perfect, but I honestly thought we’d be riding off into the sunset together.

And breakups suck because the landscape has forever changed. Where once there may have been a clean slate, there is now a “record.” A broken heart mars the playing field.

But breakups are also a time of growth. I don’t regret having given him that chunk of my life – despite the one issue that persisted, it was a very joyous time of my life, where I felt loved and cared for and comfortable. Incredible new people are now a part of my life, in some big or small way, because of him. I learned things and went places I’d never known before. And I pushed myself because of him – not because he asked me to, but because I wanted to be a better person for him, and for me.

And for those things, I will always be grateful.

* * *

Note: Snark will return with the next post. I promise.

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