From Summer Fling To Heart Sting

After the heartache, the mess, and the challenges that occurred two days ago, I’m feeling the light breeze from my open windows, thinking to myself “I needed that.” Seems bizarre considering a few days ago, what I thought I needed was a therapist and a sedative. To be fair, I probably still need both.  

Rewind to one of my first weeks as a LA native. I open up an unread message in my DMs on instagram that I had been ignoring for days. 

I read “Hey there I think we had a little chat on okc about your mesmerizing eyes and smile haha How are you?”

I told him I’m not on the dating app much, and gave him my instagram. I didn’t think he would actually send a message. He created an instagram account just to talk to me, which gave me some serious serial killer vibes. 

Initially, he seemed like the type of guy that would send me a random friend request on Facebook and I’d think, “What in the no mutual friends do you want from my life?” 

Then, foolishly accept the request, only to receive daily cringy messages and maybe an unsolicited dick pic. 

He’s Israeli. Dark hair, dark skin, dark eyes, and a bright smile. He had been working at a summer camp in California, and was spending his final month traveling America until his flight back to Israel. 

Eventually, my judgments of him being a creepy serial killer faded. I knew that we would have a good time if we met up, so we did.

We met at the Hollywood Walk of Fame. I wasn’t nervous. I was happy to have good company in this new city. 

When I first saw him crossing the street, I wanted to take him shopping so he could buy a new wardrobe. His jeans weren’t doing it for me. However, that’s not my job. He can call Queer Eye for the Straight Guy if he wants help.

Instead, we walked up and down the outlandish crowds and buildings on Hollywood Blvd. We talked, laughed, and teased each other until the California sun inspired us to take a seat at a table in the shade. 

After 45 more minutes of fun in no sun, a man who had been sitting next to us walked over with the wrapper to his sandwich, and a nearly empty soda. 

“Sorry to interrupt, but I overheard your conversation. I just had to say, you guys have such amazing chemistry! It’s beautiful.” The stranger said to us with a smile.

That moment my friends, encapsulated our connection that day, and week to follow. However, that connection didn’t last forever.

He spent the following week traveling with his pack of Israeli friends. All the while, texting me all day, and FaceTiming with me every night. He would tell me daily how much he missed me and thought about me. I generally don’t miss people, but I pretended I did because I liked him.

He came back to LA early just to spend his final week with me at my apartment. *Insert dramatic impending doom music here* 

We had completely different ideas of how we wanted to spend our week together. I wanted to explore the city. Maybe walk to the Hollywood sign, or take a trip to the beach. I thought about going to new restaurants or a bar in Hollywood. 

He wanted to stay at the apartment all day, eat ramen in bed, and get his dick sucked. Our differences became more obvious each day.

On the fourth day, we were laying in bed, once again. 

He put down his phone and said, “Change of plans. I’m going to spend my last few days with my friend in Pomona.”

I instantly felt a rush of emotions. Old trauma of abandonment issues and unworthiness began to bubble up within. I looked over, confused. 

“Okay.” I said as I rolled over to face the window.

I couldn’t fathom having a conversation with the aching in my chest. I knew if he liked me the way he did before, he never would have wanted to leave. 

After about 45 seconds he asked “How are you feeling?”

He knew something was wrong because my mouth usually doesn’t stay quiet for that long.

“Sad.” I said, as my eyes began to tear.

I could have played it off like I didn’t care, but I didn’t want to.

I didn’t want to act like a little bitch to make him feel bad. I wanted to feel my aching heart so I could give it the space, love, and attention it was desperately searching for. 

I let myself cry. Yes, in front of him. I wasn’t about to shove my feelings down and not give myself the opportunity to heal because of some 24 year old, ugly jean wearing dude. 

I wasn’t Kim Kardashian’s ugly crying face sad. My eyes filled with tears, and in between my wavering words, I sniffled. 

“I can’t see you like this.” He picked up his phone to book an uber instead of staying one more night.  

He continued “Look, I’m just a 24 year old….” 

“This isn’t about you.” I interrupted. 

“I’m not mad at you. This is not about you. This is old shit coming up for me.” It felt good to say. 

I selfishly didn’t want him thinking he was that special. He wasn’t. We had a special connection, but he definitely was giving himself far too much credit. 

I had a line of guys out the door waiting for him to leave so they could see me. If he thought all my eggs were in his basket, he was sadly mistaken.

He did not create this feeling of unworthiness. He was the catalyst for this trapped trauma to resurface and, with my willingness, heal. 

This was not about him. This was my father leaving when I was a child. This was my first and biggest crush choosing to be with someone else. This was me, looking myself in the mirror every day as a kid thinking “You’re not good enough.”This was me, taking a knife to my body in middle school, and developing additions to cope in high school, because I wanted to escape the internal pain rather than face it and transcend the trauma.

Wasn’t expecting this to get so dark, but here we are. Don’t worry, it lightens up.

I acknowledged that it wasn’t about him and I did nothing wrong. Ever.

This is life. I am worthy of a good one. My worthiness is not dependent on the actions or feelings of others. 

I let myself feel all of the past pain, and gave it the space to exist without judgement. 

By the time the uber arrived, my tears and aches passed. 

I’ll never forget the sad look in his eyes when we hugged goodbye. I made a lighthearted joke which I can’t remember now. Then, with a smile, I turned around to leave his sight for the last time. 

We haven’t spoken since and I’m genuinely fine with it. I truly believe he was brought into my life to help me heal, and help both of us grow in profound ways. 

…But for fucks sake, I was only the second person he had ever been with romantically. I should have at least gotten a written thank you card after all I taught him, if you ask me.

Jokes aside, I didn’t expect it would end this way. I will say, when it’s all said and done, I am beyond grateful for how things played out.

Sometimes the experiences that feel bad, are the ones that bring you what you are needing the most. 

His Death Taught Me How To Live

A2F3ED6F-6D73-492E-8056-26375809F6A4It was the Summer of 2011, and I had just turned 20. I totally dated myself, but I was trying to set the mood. My friend was having a big Fourth of July party in Ohio, her hometown. I flew out for the occasion, and to spend the week with her during summer break. I had no idea I’d also be spending the week with someone else who would change the way I lived my life.

My friend invited others over one night to hangout, smoke weed, drink, and do all of the typical college kid shenanigans. One by one, her friends started to arrive. I heard a knock at the door, and that’s where this all began.

He was wearing an eye-catching red shirt, but that’s not what caught my eye. That gorgeous face, beautiful blonde hair, stunning smile, the 6ft something hunk who looked like he just stepped off the runway. That’s what I noticed. He was shy and soft spoken like he didn’t own a mirror.

I don’t even remember our first conversation. Fast forward into the night, and we were sitting alone on the rooftop, stargazing while talking about life. I felt it coming. A peaceful moment of silence as I saw the twinkles of the stars reflect in his hazel green eyes. He leaned in for a kiss. It felt like I just reached the flag pole on an epic level of Super Mario Brothers after trying to win all day. Success.

He lost his virginity to me that night. We laughed, talked, and cuddled until the sun had risen and the birds began to chirp. We spent several more fun filled days together until my time in Ohio was up. This is where it starts to get complicated.

For over a month, we texted everyday. Sometimes FaceTime. At the end of the summer, we made plans for me to fly out one more time to see him before the new school year began. Once I booked the ticket, the talking became less frequent, and I felt us becoming distant. Still, with my head in the clouds, I got on the flight.

It wasn’t the same. Some silences were awkward, and there were feelings of detachment on both ends. Still, we made the best of it.

With school approaching, I went back to pack. We may have had one or two more brief conversations before I found out he blocked me. You read that right. Not ghosted, blocked. I was livid, hurt, and genuinely shocked. Worst of all, that was the Summer “Now You’re Just Somebody That I Used to Know” became a #1 hit, and I wanted to puke every time it came on the radio.

I’m not some crazy psycho bitch. There were genuinely no arguments had, or obvious reasons at the time, as to why he would’ve blocked me with no explanation. My less evolved 20 year old self decided to send him a Facebook message. I spewed all my sadness and anger towards him. Ending with, “Pathetic dude.”

Three years go by with no contact. Three years go by and my friend from Ohio, now living in Manhattan as well, called me one morning while I was in my apartment. She told me he, the guy from my never forgotten Summer romance, was found dead the night before in his NYC apartment just a 15 minute walk away from me. She asked if I could help her clear out his apartment, as she’d been a friend of his and his family all of her life.

I was speechless. I was overcome with feelings of guilt knowing that the last words I said was “Pathetic dude.” I even used to think about reaching out to make amends from time to time before my ego would get in the way. Obviously my time to reach out, ran out. Yes, there are some other relationships in my life that have not ended perfectly, but for the most part, there has been some type of closure and I’ve made peace with it. The way that ended, I hadn’t come to terms with. 

His death taught me how to live. It taught me that I should never leave a relationship unsettled. It showed me that I need to make peace with what is, and if I have a hard time doing that, it’s up to me to find a way to solve it. I hope I can inspire, even if it’s just one person, to make peace with the way your relationships have unfolded, or are unfolding, and learn from them. You never know how much time you or someone you know has, so all we can do is learn to make the best of it.

From Ghosting to Haunting me

32382F31-C93F-407B-BFA1-D143505AA95FYou know what sucks? Sleeping with someone on the first date because you’re hoping the dick will make up for their personality, and then you realize it’s worse. The worst part is when you hug goodbye, and they say “See you later!” Really?? I seriously hope not. I don’t want him to get Coronavirus and die or anything, but please don’t try to talk to me again. Thankfully, that hasn’t happened much, but it’s certainly occurred. However, I will tell you a story even worse than that.

I went on a date, and right off the bat, we were clearly not compatible. It was like a guy from Tiger King trying to hold a conversation with someone who has common sense. He wanted to turn almost everything into a debate, and he was kind of a dick. Turns out, I like dicks though. So, after a few hours and drinks, we go back to his place because he was a douchebag and I have daddy issues.

He invited me to spend the night, and said it was the first time he let a girl sleep over his place. I took it as a compliment, assuming he was a heterosexual male and wasn’t having guys over like a gay Hugh Hefner. The next morning, I hugged him goodbye and said, “See you later!” because the dick was indeed significantly better than his personality. I looked at his face and I was all too familiar with his expression. I knew what he was thinking…. Really?? I don’t want her to get coronavirus and die or anything, but … Needless to say, he pretty much ghosted me, and I was slightly salty about it.

I remember during my stumble of pride home, (I prefer to say that instead of walk of shame.) I thought about how awesome his apartment was. The view was beautiful, perfect location, and great interior. My internal dialogue went something like “Damn, I wish I lived there. Well, who knows, I’m sure there’s a place I can move into when my lease is up that I like just as much, and maybe cheaper.”

When time came for me to move, I posted on a Hanoi housing Facebook group, and instantly was contacted by a woman who I made plans to meet for a showing the following day. She gave me the directions and it seemed almost as familiar as that guys expression after I said “See you later!” I will call that guy Daddy Alex for anonymity which isn’t too far off from what his name is in my WhatsApp contact list.

You know what apartment I just moved into? You guessed it. Not only am I in the same building, but I’m in his old apartment. So, he may have seemed good for nothing, but at least he let me give my apartment a test ride. (PS I got a discounted rate due to the pandemic and the Jew in me is thrilled.)

Here’s the catch. Come to find out, he moved right next door so he could have an apartment with a porch. Daddy Alex went from ghosting me to haunting me. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t bother me that he hasn’t tried to make a move. Especially considering he’s still single and has brought a girl back to his place before. Can’t really complain when I get more ass than him though. I could easily have been in his room tonight. It also bothers me to admit I’d give him a 5 star rating for his cuddling abilities alone. I would never tell him that because his ego seems bigger than the food baby I get after I go to a vegan buffet.

He’s initiated conversations a few times since I moved in a month ago. I dropped some subtle hints that I’m here for a good time, not a long time, but still nothing. I wish there was a way he could know that I’m not looking to go on long walks on the beach, just a night in his sheets… Or two or three.

As much as my ego and other parts of me want that, this very well could be for the best. Although you never know what could happen, I can see that scenario easily not ending well. If I can manifest that apartment for a better deal, I can find me a man that’s a better fit.

 

How To Make Him Fall In Love With You (or Find Yourself Trying) in 30 days

pexels-photo-258421November 1, 2018 

Yes, that’s right. I have about 30 days until Hunter will decide where he wants to move. If he falls in love with me by then, the chances of him sticking around are significantly higher. So how can I do this? The answer is be (or at least act like) a high-value woman.

A high-value woman doesn’t chase a man and isn’t needy or attached. She keeps her options open. A high-value woman does not tolerate booty calls and BS. She doesn’t ask “What are we?” She waits for the relationship to bloom naturally. She emulates feminine energy and radiates a love for life and herself.

So far I’ve been playing the game better than a Patriots quarterback, but the game’s not over, so I can’t lose momentum now.

That being said, is this really a game, or am I simply being strategic? Am I trying to control something out of my control? Or can my conscious choice to act and become a high-value woman, change the way the relationship blooms? Perhaps not, but I like to think I can have an influence on the matter. My therapist would tell me otherwise.

The next day…

So the whole trying to make him love me lasted a whopping 12 hours before I realized that plan was about as shitty as the horse stalls I had to clean out at farm camp in 5th grade. Let’s face the facts. He wants to move. To think I can change the course of his destiny based on my wants is pretty crazy. I have to come to terms with the fact that there are some things that are in my control, but more things than I’d like to admit are not in my control. Although you never know, it seems like he’ll be out of here before I can convince him to shave his mustache.

One week later…

Holy shit he shaved his mustache! As he opened his door, I gasped as though I had seen someone put half of a perfectly good vegan breakfast burrito in the compost, without offering it to me first. I stumbled into his house with my hand over my mouth as if I was trying to hide my reaction, but I wasn’t trying to. “Woo!” I said as I used my hand as a fan. “It’s getting hot in here.” We laughed. “That’s a great reaction.” He said with a smile.

I want him to love me, yet I myself don’t love him back. Heck, I don’t even know what love is! Anyways, I just have to go with the flow and enjoy life, but it hasn’t been easy. I now wish he had his mustache again. It would be easier to watch him walk away.

December 14, 2018

Over a month has gone by since my first journal entry about all these shenanigans. Yes, it would be nice to have Hunter stay. Yes, he’s super cute, and I like spending time with him. However, I think being in a serious relationship with him would be like trying to fit into my jeans I bought a few years ago. The idea of wearing them sounds nice, but actually getting them on and walking around would be a bitch and a half. The fantasy is significantly better than the reality of that situation. I value our friendship, but it doesn’t have to be more than that just because I like his face and company.

The moral of this post is that there is no guide for love that will 100% work for everyone because we are all unique and have different needs. Also, don’t be a high-value woman to get a specific man. Be a high-value woman to be the best version of yourself and the right man will come. Lastly, don’t try to make a relationship turn into something it’s not unless you really want to walk around in a pair of pants that make you miserable.