When You Liked Me

You liked me when I was your running partner.

You liked me when I had a job.

You liked me when I was elected to the school governance board.

You liked me when I was your son’s soccer coach.

You liked me when I lived on your street.

You liked me when I was in your supper club.

You liked me when I lived in a nice house.

You liked me when we went wine tasting.

You liked me when I organized our book club.

You liked me when we hiked together.

You liked me when I had your kids sleep over my house.

You liked me when you invited me to your parties.

You liked me when our families went camping.

You liked me when we went out to happy hour.

You liked me when we went on vacation.

You liked me when I didn’t have any problems.

You liked me when you asked “How are you?” and I simply replied, “GREAT!”

Then when I didn’t have that job or house or position on the school board and I didn’t come to your clubs and parties or go camping and my kids didn’t live with me, and I had my troubles, you didn’t like me anymore. You had no use for me in your life. You disappeared. It was easier for you to be with people who say, “I’m doing GREAT!”

Same beautiful inside

But I’m still the same person. Still likeable and still great, without the house and job and parties and kids and neighborhood and status and sleepovers and coaching and clubs. I’m still Dating Suburban.

You’re just missing it.

Conquest Date

I am smart, funny, kind, attractive – some might say irresistible. But somehow I mostly seem to attract and be attracted to gay men. And the occasional straight woman.

I look back and analyze my dating history with alarm and concern. Yes, almost all the guys I have dated have prominently gay qualities. And I mean this in the very best way. They are all qualities I desire in a mate: sensitive, artistic, effeminate, faggy gestures (which I especially love), neat as a pin, fabulous dancers, love kitty cats, they cook and garden. They often have close female friends and are all-around wonderful people. I will most affectionately call them gaybusters.

So some gaybusters did actually “turn out” gay. Turns out to be a relief. It wasn’t me they were rejecting – it was the entire female sex! I am not undesirable, or so flawed after all.

I ordered rare, not well done

But then the other gaybusters turned out to go on and marry other people – women – they didn’t marry me! That part is perplexing. These boys were pegged as gay by all onlookers to our dating relationship – family, friends, even innocent bystanders all confirmed the gay brand. Then, after dating me, they go on to find and marry the woman of their dreams, which, apparently, I wasn’t. I must have been their practice round.

Maybe I’m attracted to these types because they are like a girlfriend, but better benefits. Girlfriends end up getting competitive, or bitchy. Gaybusters are stereotypically sweet…except when they marry someone else!

All About Choices Date

One of the clichés about maturity is that it brings wisdom. In our younger years, we may put up with intolerable behavior in dating because we don’t know any better, or haven’t yet established our boundaries and self-esteem that would tell us emphatically otherwise.

It’s a big world, with a lot of choices, and your life is your lot. Choose your dates wisely.

My Mate Date

My rock, my keeper, my foundation, my anchor.

My smile, my laugh, my heart (detached and in your hand), my JB.

Soulmate might make me sound “too smitten.”

You know who you are.

 

Dating Duhs

It’s rather trying when you have to keep explaining to a date “How To Treat Me 101.” One example is Facebook etiquette, which never ceases to astound me. So, you mean you want to be in a relationship with me, but your Facebook timeline and history is still plastered with pictures of you cheek-to-cheek with your ex? And you don’t have any pictures of me, so you leave the general public to extrapolate?

Now, now, maybe I’m just being superficial (like so many of us California girls are). Who really cares what Facebook tells the world, as long as your heart is true. Or is it?

You say you want to leave your wife, but take absolutely no action.

You say you love me more than ________, but let’s face it, you guys are known to say whatever sounds good in the heat of the moment.

You say, you say, you say.

Don’t say it if you won’t do it. It sounds lame, and it’s just…so…tiring.

Perhaps mother never taught you? Just like tennis, follow-through is everything.

Date Read-ability

A romantic weekend and a good book. Two of my favorite items. But in combination?

Let’s see. A good book is a stand-alone party. Well, maybe not party, but groovin’ entertainment. Reading takes you places. I can get as lost in a book as I can in lovemaking. Reading is that good.

But a romantic weekend! The in-love feelin’, the snuggling, ga-ga eyes, reveling in each other, laughing, napping, feeling like it could never get any better than this. Yeah, we’ve all been there. Then comes Sunday. Time to go home. To reality.

The romantic weekend comes to an abrupt end, but the book is tangible – and we are still holding on to both.

The combination of reading a good book during a romantic weekend brings up some interesting scenarios.

• Is the Date so boring, so dull, that you must read to pass the time?
• Is your book so good, so titillating, that it surpasses Date in fantasy potential?
• Or, perchance, is Date co-reading the same book, so you can alternately pause and discuss? (Now I’ll pause to say that’s my fantasy – but those Dates don’t seem to exist on planet earth).

Giving me the freedom to read!

My Dating Friend, who amazes and dazzles me constantly, was able to finish a riveting adventure story, filled with unsettling portrayals of relationships, while on a romantic wine-tasting weekend. How does one do that? Instead of a cigarette, do you open right back to the page after a quick copulate? Or do you read while doing it, slow enough so you can turn the pages without ripping them?

I hope you, my readers, can shed some light on this. Or at least a booklight. Do tell.