NOBODY CAN SAY I DIDN’T TRY

A few years ago, when I was still online dating, I came across the profile of a cute Latino. His profile indicated that he lived near me and that he, like myself, enjoyed running. Once we started talking the conversation flowed like water. We spoke, consistently, for a few weeks before we decided to meet up. All seemed to be going well, but he kept giving me random reasons why he couldn’t meet me when it was convenient for me. He kept trying to get me to meet him at his house or in front of his building late at night. I made it clear to him that, if he wanted to meet me, he would have to do so at my convenience. Even though he was resistant to meeting, we continued to communicate.  

During one of our conversations, I asked him what he did for work. He told that he was a personal assistant for his cousin (whom he claimed was Jessica Caban, the longtime girlfriend of Bruno Mars). He also said that he was a part-time hairstylist. I made a comment, that I thought would end up being a light-hearted joke. In response to him saying that he was a hairstylist, I joked, and asked if he was also gay. I expected a variety of responses, equating to a no. Although he did say no, when he told me that he was a cross-dresser, I almost choked. Immediately my phone was flooded with messages from him dressed like a woman. Now, don’t get me wrong, he didn’t look half-bad; I simply wasn’t expecting that. I thought about deleting his number and blocking him, but I wondered if I was being too close-minded. There was a party of me that knew I couldn’t get with it. But there was another part of me that considered the courage that it took for him to be honest with me; and, that part didn’t want to just walk away. 

We agreed to meet up one evening and go for a walk in Central Park. He was less handsome in person, but still good looking. I don’t remember what I wore; but I remember he wore a huge multi-colored puffer jacket and NYC Marathon ASICS. —Why do I remember those details, you ask. The only reason why I remember them is because he kept mentioning them. He kept mentioning how expensive his coat and sneakers were, and how much money he had. As he tried to win me over by saying how much money he had, I kept changing the conversation to other topics. We spoke about running, him doing hair, and eventually I asked him when he started cross-dressing. He explained that on one day he just decided to try it and he liked it. He had this cockiness about him that I hated; but his honesty kept me intrigued.  

I felt like dessert, so we walked down to Pinkberry. On our walk, the conversation continued to evolve. I was semi-surprised to think that despite how things began; we were actually having a decent first date. Once inside of Pinkberry, and only because he made such a big deal on how much money he had, I was taken aback when he didn’t offer to pay for my $7 dollar dessert. —If you’ve been following my blog from the beginning, you know how I feel about men that don’t offer to pay on first dates. If a man doesn’t pay on a first date, there will not be a second. I thought to myself, for a guy donning $130+ sneakers, and a coat that he claimed was over $500, the least he could do was buy my frozen yogurt; when he did not, it was an automatic major deduction. I was ready do ditch his ass; but, unfortunately, he lived in my area, and we had to walk in the same direction. He said that he was thirsty; so, walking back uptown, we stopped into Whole Foods. He walked to the beverage station, grabbed a beverage, and asked me if I wanted anything. I said no, and I started walking towards the cash register. I was, once again, taken aback when he turned around and made his way back to the entrance. —Yes! While wearing over $600, this fool decided to steal a seltzer water from Whole Foods. I looked at him like he was bat-shit crazy. Once outside of the store I ripped into him about what he did, and he seemed to not care. I needed to change the conversation over the remaining 15 blocks, so we spoke about movies and TV shows. When he reached his building, he invited me to come up, but I eagerly declined and made my way home.  

Most women would’ve blocked his number. However, there is always (and probably will forever) be a part of me that never knows when to call it quits. I can say it in my mind, but there is always the heart. When the mind and heart align, then along comes the conscience, that convinces me to give a person one more chance. So, after our first meet & greet, where he stole and didn’t even buy me a dessert, we were still talking. A part of me found it interesting having a person that was so different in my life. So, I wasn’t quite ready to sever all ties. A week later, I was with my friends at the bar having wings, and my date came up. I went over all the details of the date and they were appalled for me. When I mentioned that he was also a cross-dresser, they thought that I was out of my mind for going on the date, in the first place. I tried to justify the reasons for us staying in contact, but in the end, I knew it had run its course.  

After a few nights, he went from being interesting and different to classic fuck-boy. One evening, he kept repeatedly asking me to come over and I told him no. He then proceeded to say that if I didn’t come over, he would call someone else to. I guess he thought my decision to talk to him was out of desperation, but I was simply trying to be open-minded. I told him he was well within his right to do what he wanted. This went on for about twenty more minutes. Growing annoyed, I told him that I would block him. When he didn’t stop, I did just that. To this day, I still wonder why I even went down that road in the first place. I knew, the moment he told me that he cross-dressed, red flags went up. After his behavior on the first date, I knew there would be no romantic future. I don’t really know what it was, but I wanted to give him a chance to see if we could at least be friends. In the end, nobody can say I didn’t try. 

WORKING THE GARDEN

My 2018 ended on an extremely low note: I had not had sex since August, I was still unsuccessful at online dating, and I felt like I was reaching for blog content. Growing tired of the nonsense, on January 1^st, at the stroke of midnight I deleted all my dating apps and I figured I’d take time to just be alone and reevaluate the direction of my blog. 

In January; after a year of carefully writing around the topic, I wrote my first story about my life and dating while having herpes. 

In February; I took another step down the sexually free runway; and I attended my first sex party. I re-downloaded Tinder and Hing, and I explored FetLife (this should be interesting!). This time, however, I decided to have a different approach. What if I stopped searching for a relationship and just enjoyed the art of dating? Sure- many times I’ve said “I’m not looking for anything and I’m just having fun”. Then, like clockwork, on date three, I would begin to wonder: What are we? Where is this going? Big wedding or small wedding? How many kids will we have? Apartment or house?  

This time around, I told myself to STOP! I told myself to not only smell the flowers New York Botanical Garden had to offer, but to enjoy the process of planting them too. The lilies, the tulips, the roses, the hydrangeas, the azaleas, and countless others. I told myself to find happiness in the sowing of the dirt, planting the seeds, the watering, and the sunlight. When a flower dies, that does not make its life lived any less significant. The death of the flower does not erase the joy you found in smelling and viewing it. Instead of waiting for the richest hue right before the decay. I made the decision to learn to enjoy the moments that were happening all around me, from the very beginning to the very end. I was excited to start this new journey. But first… I had to tell my mom.  

So, in March I told my mother that, not only, was I bisexual; but that I was also polyamorous, and non-monogamous. To which she rolled her eyes, gave me a lecture about sex and diseases. To which, I had to remind her that, I actually acquired herpes when I was in a relationship; so, her point was moot. 

For years I was determined to find the one that would deliver me from the endless hurdles of first dates and dry conversations. So, what’s your favorite color? What’s your favorite food? Blah blah! I hated talking to someone, and thinking it was going somewhere, all to find out that they were a total fuck-boy; but I kept on going. I believed that I would swipe right on the perfect guy, we would like each other, meet, fall in love, and live happily ever after. Fear of dating with herpes kept me on this self-inflicted-toxic-path for almost 4 years. I gave into the idea that people with herpes weren’t allowed date casually. If a guy hit on me at a party. I would flirt a little but eventually I would fade away. I couldn’t go around spreading my toxic vagina. I couldn’t have a casual one-night-stand. I had to dive all in and hope for the best. I didn’t have the right to be selective; because, people with herpes can’t be choosey. I had better be happy with whatever I could get! So, what! if he has no teeth, bad acne, not job, and a little wiener. He accepted your virus and now you’re together for life. 

Then I had an epiphany. I am not now, nor have I ever been toxic. I am human and I deserve to be happy. As long as I was honest and upfront about my status, I could do whatever the fuck I wanted. That not only meant starting a situation-ship, that also meant ending one as well. I stayed in many relationships long past their expiration date. If he accepted my herpes, I had to accept whatever shit he came with as well; I had to make it work, because no one else would want me. I had to learn that I deserved the same happiness that everyone else had. I deserve romance, great conversation, and to have fantastic sex whenever, however, and with however many partners my vagina and mouth could handle. As long as I told them up front, I was doing my part. So, I decided to try something different. 

Instead of writing a long drawn out profile, I kept it important to the fundamentals of what I was/am looking for, and I put it all on front street: polyamorous, non-monogamous, bisexual, and herpes positive.  

Non-monogamy, because I am not in a space of solo-commitment.  Polyamorous, because I actually require an emotional connection that precedes the desire to engage sexually (energies over sex). Bisexual, because I enjoy being with women as well; and of course, herpes positive because I’d rather not waste your time if it’s a non-negotiable for someone.  

Within a week, I had a Tinder date; we’ve been seeing each other for just over a month. The following week I met a man from Hinge, and we too have gone on a couple of dates. I’m finally in a place where I am enjoying the journey of dating with no clue on where the hell I’m going to end up. I’m sowing the dirt, I’m planting the seeds, and I’m watering the soil. I’m enjoying the butterflies, the flirting, the conversations, the kissing, and some great sex. I am rooted in my happiness at the moment and hope you’ll continue with me on this journey. 

The Significance Of Valentine’s Day

Valentine’s Day is great; but what about the other 364 days?

So, today is Valentine’s Day. I waited for Facebook to share with me my previous memories, hoping that there would be something good. Unfortunately, I discovered I didn’t post much over the years. In 2018- I posted nothing. In 2017- I posted about my disdain for Betsy DeVos, and my love for Beyoncé, and about the ‘90s show Ghostwriter (if you remember that show – you’re the real MVP). In 2016- It was cold as fuck, so I posted a meme of the weather also being single and another Beyoncé meme. In 2015 and 2014 I posted nothing (these were the years I was with my fuck-boy of an ex “The Ex Files”). And, in 2013 I posted a meme about my then boyfriend; the first meme was, “I have the WORLD’S MOST AMAZING BOYFRIEND! LOVE!!!!!!!” (He surprised me, at work, with an Edible Arrangement basket). The second meme, “When you know that you will never be alone on Valentine’s Day, ever again.” Looking back now- I realize that was one of the dumbest things I ever posted.  

I have been ‘alone’ for the last 4 Valentine’s days and I don’t want you to feel sad for me. After I broke up with my ex in 2015, (right before Valentine’s Day) I felt a sudden weight lift off my shoulders. I was truly happy to be single; not because, I just, wanted to be single; but because I no longer wanted to be with him and I knew that I would never be let down in such a way again.  

So, what is the significance of Valentine’s Day when you’re in a relationship vs. when you are single? 

I often hear people say that ‘everyday should feel like Valentine’s Day’. That’s a great aspiration; but the reality is that most relationships are not set up that way.  

I also hear a lot of people expect the full red-carpet treatment. (Proposals, flowers, candy, fancy dinner, etc.). This, too, is great, but what about the rest of the year? 364 days of chopped liver and one day of Surf & Turf… I don’t think so! 

Lastly, I notice, it has become a day of confirmations. In this era of just-chilling, bae, boo, and title-less sex-sationships; this is the one day all those people that want to know “what are we?” and they expect an answer TONIGHT! This, to me, is stupid people’s logic. If I want you to be my man, I’m not waiting for a certain date to confirm it. I’ll make it clear once I feel it and then you have 48 hours to give me your answer. (Cause consider this: if we’ve been seeing each other for months- if by now, you don’t know if you want to try and make this official, you probably never will. 

Do we allow our relationship to be basic as fuck all year around, waiting for our partner to pull out all the stops, and if they don’t- we walk away; or, if they do- we stay? On the other hand, if your partner is romantic to begin with, the person that sends you flowers (just because) or takes you out to dinner (just because); is there still an expectation for grand gestures if every day is a fairytale? Every couple is different and has to define what works for them. 

Take me and my friend Cat for example.

 In 2015, it was my first V-day with my fuck-boy ex and her first V-day with her- then guy she was dating, now husband. They had an established date night where they would go out, I believe once a week, and have a romantic evening. I, in my relationship, had no such thing. Fast forward to a year later, dates in my relationship were few and far between and eventually I broke up with him. My friend and her man were still going strong. When Valentine’s day came around, it was cold as fuck (single digits cold), I asked her what were their plans and she said they were staying in because it was too cold, and that it didn’t matter because they went out last week. They enjoyed a nice evening together and that was that. Fast forward to marriage, baby, and I another on the way; all while maintaining a certain level of romance.  

What I took from this was, you have to consider what this day means to you long before you bring a person into your life. You, also, should not revolve your entire relationship around this day; because it sets an unfair expectation on the person coming in, especially if you don’t make your expectations clear in the very beginning. 

When you enter a dating-ship set the standard high; in doing so, when things, become more relaxed (as relationships often do) you won’t find yourself at a disadvantage. You may start at dinners out 2-3 nights a week and that may decrease to 1-2 a week- this is not the end of the world; but that depends on you. However, if you know you prefer 2-3 nights and for whatever the reason, you let 1 night be the starting point (and I can guarantee that, over time, it will become no nights); you will have no one to blame but yourself.  So, to avoid being in a less than happy relationship down the line, set the tone from the beginning.  

I have spent the last 4 V-Days a single woman. Last year I was looking for a new job; so, I was probably home working on my portfolio. The year before that I think I celebrated with friends for a birthday; and beyond that, your guess is as good as mine. What I do know is that- I did not wait for a phone call that would never come. I didn’t wait for flowers that were never sent. I didn’t wait for a card and chocolates that I would never receive and, I didn’t wait for a romantic date that would never happen. I watched whatever movie I wanted. I went to the restaurant I wanted. I had sex with whomever and however I wanted, and I loved every minute of it. 

Over the years I have become extremely comfortable and happy being single. Sure, I would like to make a flip-a-gram of my perfect relationship; and I’d like to be one of those obnoxious couples that people want to poison. I know that down the line I want to be a wife and have a family- someday. But I know I don’t want that right now. I don’t want to give up on my freedom, and on a certain level I find it unfair to subject an unknowing victim to the clusterfuck of a life that I choose to lead. Between work, blog writing, novel writing, marathon training, triathlon training, juggling time with my family and friends; a relationship ship would drive me over the deep end.  

One day, when I’ve completed most of my goals, I’ll be ready for a relationship (of my liking) and I’ll be one of those obnoxious couples. But that day is not today. This morning I took a run class and after I leave work, I’ll be heading to meet with fellow writers; we’ll drink some wine, eat some chocolate, write, and share some sexy stories. And that is how I will spend my Valentine’s Day this year.  

HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY!! 

THE EX THAT NEVER LEFT

In the beginning of the New Year I disabled and deleted all my online dating apps. I went cold turkey; I cut them all off. As I write this post, I am 15 days sober, and I realized that I over-estimated the number of horrible stories I had. Now I am faced with the question- Where do I want this blog to go? There a still a healthy amount of dating mishaps I will divulge but the topic of this post is essential to fully understand the upcoming stories. This post of extreme open-vulnerability IS LONG BUT NECESSARY. I will explain how I emerged from the flames and entered into a world of self-love and self-discovery, that I might not have otherwise experienced, had it not been for the below. So, I hope that at the conclusion of this post; you take a moment to be open and honest with yourself and start to change your mind about all that you thought you knew.  

I lost my virginity at the age of fourteen. I wasn’t in love or anything, I just thought the guy was cute and I wanted to get it over with. After that, I had a string of high-school boyfriends (at which time, dating for a month was the emotional equivalent of being married). I was never the girl your mother warned you about- because I would travel far and wide to do my dirt. Armed with thick bottle-cap glasses and my Catholic school uniform- no one could detect my true-sexual identity. In my late teens and during college I had a few flings here and there. After a long-term break up, that rocked me to my core (stay tuned for that one), I took a few months off from dating and then I met HIM- the one that would become THE EX THAT NEVER LEFT

We connected on BlackPlanet.com. He was educated, handsome, and he demonstrated a genuine interest for me and my likes. He was a stark contrast to the men I had dated and slept with before; he put a smile on my face and I never felt so secure. We would joke together, laugh together, and one day he even met my mom. It wasn’t official introduction, but it meant a lot that he joked with her, rather than evade conversation. When he took me out for my birthday; I wore a dress that I made and he complimented me on it, which made me feel very good. All was going well, until it wasn’t. After about 5 months of perfection he became unreachable, and we started seeing each other less and less. Eventually after two weeks of him pulling away, I sent him a message- I guess you no longer have interest. Wish you all the best. I concluded that he had started seeing someone else, so I left it alone. 

Two weeks later he popped back into my life- but not in a way I could see coming…  

It wasn’t the horror show you find online when you google; mine was much like a mosquito bite, which was why it didn’t cause for alarm at first. But when nothing aided in easing the discomfort, I showed my mom (a RN) and her friend and I went to my GYN. A week later, when my doctor finally confirmed my suspicions, my response was: “For all the years that I’ve been fucking- it’s the time that I’m in a committed relationship that I get herpes? YOU’VE GOT TO BE SHITTING ME!” Yes; He gifted me with Genital Herpes Type 2. WHAT THE ENTIRE FUCK!!!!! My young mind, in its early twenties, could not understand how this could’ve happened. I was doing everything right: I asked him all the questions: When was his last test? What were his results? -He assured me everything was fine. We used protection (condoms) and I know I wasn’t fucking anyone else; so why me, why now, and how?  

Through my research I discovered the following: He very well, may not have known he had it prior to me. Why? You ask. How could he not know? You ask. Well here’s your answer. 

1- People can be carriers and never have symptoms of the virus. So, people who never have an outbreak will automatically assume that they don’t have herpes, and yet, may pass it on to their partners.  

2- Doctors don’t willingly include herpes testing. On a medical scale of diseases and viruses in the world- herpes is at the bottom of the list. I can remember getting tested, for years, and not once was herpes ever included. Sure, they tested for chlamydia, gonorrhea, HIV, and syphilis; because if left untreated these could actually lead to cancer, infertility, and/or death. But, herpes- NOPE! So, since one has to specifically ask for it; and, (back to point 1) if you have no symptoms- why would you. 

3- It’s everywhere. Another major reason why doctors don’t test for herpes is because 80% (every site will indicate a different number) of the population is living with or has had some form of the herpes virus. For example, if you ever had chicken pox – that’s a strain of herpes; if you get older and develop shingles – that too is a strain of the herpes virus. The blisters people call cold sores is also a strain of the herpes virus. The only difference is the strain, stigma, and location of the outbreak. People with oral herpes aka cold sores (commonly HSV1, but can also be HSV2) don’t go around telling everyone about it; they live their life, kiss and date and be merry. However, people with genital herpes (whether Type 1 or Type 2) are expected to disclose. There is a reason there’s a rise in Genital Herpes Type 1 cases. Ever got head or ate pussy from a someone? Well- there you go. 

4- And lastly, he simply could have neglected to inform me. As horrible as that idea may seem – it’s just as much a possibility as the above are. I eventually had to take responsibility for my actions and my decision to take his word as truth. But, take it a step further…

Think about it- Did you ever had a one-night-stand? Did you ever meet a person and have sex (intercourse or oral) that night? Did you ask the person you were dating when they were tested last? Did you go and get tested together, just to be sure? Did you abstain from sex the required 3-6 months it takes your body to build antibodies once a virus is detected? Do you always use condoms (not just for intercourse, but for oral as well)? Do you follow your partner everywhere they go, to make sure they are being faithful? If you answer no to any of the above, you too, could have found yourself in my situation. You were just lucky not to. 

The occurrences of my outbreaks (1-2 a year) were as annoying as random mosquito bites. So, even though I wish I didn’t have this- I still consider myself lucky. The worst part of this virus is THE STIGMA attached to it. The idea that people would think you’re dirty (I take 3 showers a day sometimes), or a slut (I prefer the term sexually-free) is more painful and always in the background of my mind.

During the many years and conversations, I’ve had with thousands of people I can confirm that, there is no direct relation between sexuality and herpes. I met people who were born with herpes or contracted it from sharing a beverage with a parent or friend. I met virgins that were gifted by their first partner, women and men that were gifted by their cheating spouses, people who were victims of rape and/or sexual assault, people that could count on one hand their partners and acquired their gift, and people that fell in love with a positive person and made the decision to stay with them. I also know sex workers and porn stars (with hundreds and thousands of partners) that are herpes negative. Herpes does not care who you are, how sexual you are, your nationality, religion, salary, etc. It simply does not care and having this virus does not change who a person is. 

So, after the initial wave of devastation passed, I confided in a close group of friends, one of which had a history of cold-sores (Oral Herpes) and asked her how she dated with the virus. I didn’t run into conversations exposing my diagnosis, but I told my partners on a ‘need to know’ basis and it worked, for years. When I would enter relationships, I would tell my partners and, luckily, they were all accepting. The fear that often lurked in the back of my mind: What’s he going to think? Will he hate me? Will he break up with me? Was always put at ease the moment he said ‘It’s ok. I still want to be with you. Thank you for telling me. And, “This doesn’t change how I feel about you”. I was lucky to have met men that were accepting of my status; and to this date, I have been successful in never transmitting my virus to a partner.  

Fast forward some more years- I had concluded that, if the man really liked me, and was ok with getting to get to know me before trying to have sex, my disclosure conversation (DC) would go over much better. This worked out great; until I broke up with my last ex (The Ex Files) and started dating again. After him It was obvious that I was in a very new world of dating and I was totally clueless to the rules of the game.  

Long gone were the days of conversation; everyone wanted to ask me my favorite position. So long was the idea of meeting up for a first date; everyone wanted to send me dick-pics and get a confirmation of sex. Hell, even the corny guys were playing the fast game. How the hell was I going to manage my newly found sexually-free identity with my status? Would I be outcasted as a leper? Would I be forced into celibacy? I didn’t like the idea of either. I could limit my dating pool to people in my similar situation, but I never liked limits and the people on those sites were just as bad as other online dating apps. So, I took a chance and I figured the only way to discover what would happen, would be to dive right in; and I’ll admit what I found was quite empowering, and I hope you stay tuned for more.

The Ex Files_Part 4: Tired of Tired

So, let’s do a recap.  

October-November: Casually Dating 

November-January: We’re sleeping together. No official title. No gift for Christmas and no time spent together for the holidays. 

February (Valentine’s Day): First official argument. I requested a date, that he agreed to, yet never fulfilled. I got him a card.  

February-March: He proposes a mini vacation that he never follows through on. 

April-May: Still no title. We’re seeing each other about once a week. Actual romantic dates are not frequently happening. Most dates are basic movies and/or cheap dinners or takeout.  

June (My Birthday Month): I receive no present. 

July (My family vacation to Vegas): He said he would attend but he did not.  

August: I was ready to put my foot down and/or call it quits. He then called me his girlfriend and I fell in stupid all over again. He offered to buy me tickets to the Motown play. 

September-October: The rocky ground becomes flaming coals as I become frustrated with yet another promise that is never fulfilled (Six Flags Fright Fest).  

So here we are, in November. I had grown tired of his bullshit. However, for reasons (which I will address in a totally different post to come later) I couldn’t completely cut the cord and walk away.  

We had stopped speaking for a few days after he let me down with the Six Flags fiasco. I played the dumb game most of us play: he’d text me and I would wait hours to text him back etc. Then, one afternoon he gave me a call. Claiming how he missed me and wanted to see me. At this point, I had grown tired of leaving my job, travelling on the train for over an hour just to go to his house and do nothing but watch tv and get crappy takeout. If I wanted to watch tv I could do that at my own damn house. I came to the realization that he was not a pick up on signals type of guy. I would have to make it crystal clear for him. So, I asked him “Where are we going to go?” His response; “I have to see how I feel, I might be tired.” To which I responded: “That’s fine. Hit me up when you’re not tired. Because I am sick and tired of you being tired whenever I come by. Ok.” I then hung up the phone.  

He was furious with me; but I gave ZERO FUCKS. I was done caring about his feelings and him being tired- blah fucking blah! He immediately called me back; he was shocked that I hung up on him and that I would say that. He complained that I was the busy one and that I didn’t make time for him. Which was bull shit! For months I had been asking for us to spend a weekend together and it never happened. He complained that my schedule was too complicated for him and that it was too much work for him to remember my schedule. To which I responded- all he had to do was ask me my availability. He called it “making an appointment” I called it “communication”.  

I did a little digging during the course of our relationship. I found out that in his previous relationships his partners either, didn’t work or had very limited social lives and he had also taken care of them. They lived with him, didn’t work, and he handled all the bills. He was used to dating women that would always be available because they did nothing else. He was used to doing what he wanted when he wanted because he was the one that always paid. Think about it; if you’re a “kept woman” and you want to go on a vacation but rely on your man to pay for it; you have to convince him and/or wait for him to want to go on said vacation. This was his dating life for over a decade, prior to meeting me. He was not used to dating a girl that worked, had a social life, and had plans. He was used to doing what he wanted, when he wanted, and it never being an issue. Sadly- that was not they dynamics of my life; they never were and never will be. My independence matters to me, my social life matters to me, my family, my friends, my fitness all matter to me; and when I’m in relationship, my partner matters to me. To me, I thought I was doing a great job at balancing it all; to him, however, I was not.  

Needless to say, nothing got resolved on that phone call; it became very tit for tat. Eventually I got tired of to a brick wall so, I said goodnight and ended the conversation. 

We didn’t see each other for another 2 weeks. When he finally called and asked to take me out, we set a date for a weekend, we went to Juniper in Brooklyn and went to the movies after. Dinner and the movie were nice gestures, but it was like putting whip cream and a cherry on shit and calling it chocolate ice cream. 

When we got back to his place, we tried to talk things out. I told him that I was not happy in the relationship. He couldn’t understand what I was unhappy about. He said he was happy with me so why was I not happy with him; as if it was a barter system (happy for happy). For starters, I never met any of his family and/or friends; even though I had invited him on many occasions to meet mine; he simply never showed up. I brought up the fact that over and over he made promises and never kept them. To which his response was “well I never promised.” He didn’t comprehend that; whether or not you use the word promise when you agreed and you didn’t follow through, it still hurts. I told him that his not caring about how I felt hurt and he claimed I chose to be upset and that I should just learn to let things go. In essence, all the things I was complaining about didn’t matter to him.  

He didn’t care about meeting my family or friends; because to him it wasn’t a big deal. He didn’t care about dates- he was just happy to be with me. He didn’t care about broken plans because to him we would always have time. Lastly, he felt that I held on to things and that I should, like him, just let them go. I had to explain to him he and I were not the same person. A person has to be willing to compromise with their partner if the relationship is to be successful. I had compromised a hell of a lot; I changed my routine and I became a home-body, I let movies and take-out replace actual dates because my guy was a casual guy, I started watching sports because he liked sports and, I made less plans to try and be available for him more. I was done compromising. I wanted dates and romance, but I also wanted honored plans, and experiences together. I told him, I’m the type of girl that when I am wronged you have to acknowledge the wrong and fix it; I do not just let shit go. If you put a crack in a vase you have to fix it, if not the crack will get worse and eventually the vase will break. I told him if he wanted this relationship to work there would have to be changes made on his part. I asked him, just to try things my way- if it didn’t work then we would cut our losses but at least give it a try. The way I saw it was: We did things your way and it doesn’t work, now let’s try it my way.  

Him trying things my way lasted for about 2 weeks. 

(Part 4 Coming Very Soon)