Have Fun Stormin' The Castle.

You know how you've had this idea? And it starts out as a
"FUCK YEAH! This is an AWESOME idea! I'm gonna DO THIS and it's gonna be EPIC!"
But then you go do it, and at first, it's really, really, really sweet...but then something....changes; neither good or bad, just changes.

And those changes?
They make all the difference

The Tale of The Dread Pirate Wesley

So, y'all know that I haven't dated in awhile. Yup. Turned my back on the whole shitty things, because the level of men I'd ran into just - suck goat balls.
I mean - the years of online dating have damaged me, emotionally, the results of which I'm still dealing with. My self esteem took a hit, my ego, my body image - just in the shitter because of emotionally unavailable, fucking lunatic, and unstable men who shouldn't be out there in the dating world.

But hey, a girl has her needs right?

Sigh.
And, in hindsight, this wasn't one of my more brilliant ideas.
But nobody said I wasn't 
FEARLESS.
Stupid sometimes, but usually fearless.

So a couple of my girlfriends and I had been knocking around the idea of hookups. Ya know, just some fun, light, casual, no-strings attached HOT AS FUCKING HELL sex.
YES PEOPLE
SEX
I mean, if I can't find a decent man for my life, I'm entitled to at the bare minimum some decent sex.
Everyone is entitled to decent sex. For fuck sakes.
So, I embarked on a Doozy Social Experiment the likes of which I have never seen.

A couple months ago now, I wrote up a Craigslist ad for the "casual encounters" section looking for a little action. Now, apparently (and I didn't know this at the time) there are some epic, epic whackanoids out there, looking for just about any kind of freaky action - and Craigslist is the place to go to get it. 
Huh.
Color me shocked.

Moving on...

My ad was very tame, vanilla by comparison. Nothing freaky, nothing weird. Just some No Strings Attached fun. Oh, but the guy had to be hung and know what the fuck he was doing in bed. Cuz, come on ladies...not to be "that girl"...but, well...here I go...why would I go to all this considerable trouble of weeding out the crazies to go back to having bad sex with small dicked broseph (like in my dating days)?
GOAL ORIENTED, REMEMBER?

So, I sent my ad out and..

HOLY SHITBALLS BATMAN.

Within a 24 hour period I received over 200 email responses. And this was without any pictures attached, no identifying information besides the standard: SWF, etc.

200 EMAILS. FUCK.

Most of the responses were pretty boring actually. I didn't even read them all. Loads of dick pics. About halfway through, I started making up Dr. Suess-like rhymes about them all

A cock on a boat
A cock in a moat
Do you like green eggs and cock?
I do indeed like them with plenty to mock.

Rinse and repeat.

And this is where the Dread Pirate Wesley comes into our story. See, Wesley, in actuality sent me a rather long, well thought out email. And no dick pic. Now understand, I get that this was a site that was all about finding pussy - so I wasn't offended by all the dick pics at all, just amused by the sheer number of them.
But it was Wesley's email - not just the standard "sup baby, I can deliver you 8" hard inches and a good time" bullshit that frankly, I'd seen for four years in the dating world and, rolled my eyes at almost 100 times in response to my ad.

Really guys? That's the best you could do?

Nope. Wesley was...different. He had an intelligent email; he seemed to be looking for pussy but if that was it, then he had a fantastic opening line. So, I emailed him back. Granted, I'd emailed back a few other men too, only to be disappointed when they just kept asking for more pictures or accused me of being a bot or scammer. Really? It was that hard to hookup in the 21st Century? Go figure.

Anyhoozles. Wesley and I exchanged emails for awhile, then switched to text, then decided to meetup for dinner at a local place. I was...nervous. All my girlfriends who knew I was doing this little experiment were nervous.

What if Wesley was a rapist?
What if Wesley was an ax murderer?
What if Wesley was some weirdo?

Trust me people when I tell you that I am the MOST risk averse chick out there when it comes to personal safety or the safety of those I love. So, the night of our meetup, Wesley didn't know that I was carrying Pepper Spray in my purse. Of course, I didn't know until well into dinner that he supposedly was a black belt in several martial arts. Oops.

BUT
Our first meetup was AMAZING.
Wesley met me at the door to the restaurant with a HOT kiss - that was a new one for me. We flirted outrageously all throughout dinner. Wesley held my hand when we walked to go look at motorcycle's outside (he was an avid rider). We sat on a comfy sofa and talked for a couple hours about all sorts of things in our lives - out bucket lists, our childhoods, friendships, etc. And at the end of the night we made out against the side of my car. however, interestingly enough - no sex.

Whoo boy.
I do declare.

Wesley even invited me out to another motorcycle event the very next night. Which I eagerly accepted.
Damn skippy Wesley was sexy.
Damn skippy Wesley was nice.
Damn skippy Wesley seemed decent.
And damn skippy if the two of us didn't have a shit-ton in common.

Here's the thing though. And this was my first flag, which kept my guard up for so, so long. I was very clear with Wesley that while I really wanted to find a relationship, that didn't seem to be in the cards for me (cuz=online men suck) and Wesley seemed interested in finding a Friends With Benefits (FWB). He described in fair detail a FWB that he'd had in the past, and I honestly questioned how successful I would be with that kind of set-up; given all those pesky emotions that I tend to have and my desire for connection. I was very skeptical that I could pull it off, which is why I told Wesley that I was looking for the no-strings attached deal versus something where feelings were involved. 
The way I saw it (and still do), with emotions comes expectations and with expectations comes disappointment - unless that luck and timing magic is at play and both people are on the same page. Right. We know how often THAT works out. And again, in hindsight, neither of us ever discussed or came to a conclusion of what our middle ground was.

Wesley was the one who pointed how much we had in common. Oh, I'd noticed it right off the bat in our conversation: we liked the same movies, music, food, we even spoke in the same way...but fuck if I was going to say anything about it. WE WEREN'T DATING, so even though I picked up on it right away, along with our amazing chemistry I stayed silent on the topic. But no, Wesley went right ahead and went there:
WES: "Jimmy John's or Subway?"
ME: "Jimmy John's" 
ME: "Solid Princess Bride quote."
WES: "It's one of my favorite movies."
ME: "Mine too! I own it."
ME: "Thai food? Indian?"
WES: "Love em'. The spicier, the better."
WES: "Have you realized how much we have in common? It's kind of freaky..."

And let me tell you people...the sex, I mean that's the whole CORE of this story, right? The sex was off the charts. Fucking finally. Wesley certainly knew his way around a mattress.

And so it began.

Wesley and I began seeing each other roughly every week for almost a couple months. We texted everyday. Sometimes we'd just get together for sexytime and pillow talk afterward, but sometimes we'd actually go out.
And goddammit it all to hell:

WE LIKED EACH OTHER.
A LOT.
FUCKING EMOTIONS.
FUCKING EVERYTHING UP.

Here's where things started falling apart for me. Where my heart and my head started having conversations that frankly were dangerous for me. I know. I'd had them many, many times when I was dating. I started thinking of Wesley as more than just my occasional side-piece, more than just a hookup. I began thinking of him...as..potential. And, it didn't help that my girlfriends were spurring me on:
"Oh Doozy, you should trust Wesley. He seems to really like you."
"You do realize that you guys went on a date, right? You might not have called it a "date", but it was a date all the same."
"No it wasn't. We're just hooking up."
"IT WAS A DATE DOOZY."

It also didn't help that Wesley wasn't aiding me in my quest to keep my fucking emotions locked down tight.
WES: "It's about more than just sex for me too..."
WES: "You're such a sweetheart."
WES: "You're pretty amazing."
AND
ME:"We're just hooking up..."
WES: "I prefer to call it seeing each other."

WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT EVEN MEAN?

See, "seeing each other" is a phrase that leads me to believe that there's some level of emotional connection there, something there besides just a sweaty half hour. Dunno, it seemed leading. I fully cop here to letting my emotions get the best of me in the end; to being a bitch to my emotional needs. I mean come on, here was an attractive, sexy, seemingly emotionally forthright man who is romancing me on top (pardon the pun) of just sexing me up. Try as I might, and fuck knows I tried so very, very hard to keep a fucking lid on my fucking emotions, there they were, all the same.

IT WAS JUST SUPPOSED TO BE ABOUT SEX.
FEELINGS WEREN'T IN MY DAMN GAME PLAN.

And Wesley and I agreed over and over again that "whatever thing" we had was about more than just sex. We agreed that there was "more there", but we never defined what the "more" was. In fact, we never defined anything. And as time went by the lack of definition began to wear at me. I'm just enough of a planner to like to know where I stand. Was I a fuck buddy? A FWB? More? Was there potential there? What the actual good god damn fuck it all hell? And I'm leaving out SO, SO, SO many details that I could bore y'all with here people. About how "amazing" we thought each other were, how  'much I like you", yadda yadda, yadda...

Dunno. Seems...hollow now. Disingenuous. Maybe even a tad misleading.
I mean, Wesley really didn't need to feed me all the bullshit emotional stuff to get me into bed. I put out an ad on Craigslist. I was an easy catch.

And that was a fatal mistake.
I started liking the boy.
I LET HIM READ THIS BLOG.
I let down my guard, for just a minute.
And I believed his bullshit.

Really, I have no one to blame but myself. Because I know better after all the online crap I've been through. All the lies I've faced down; all the douches, I know better than to fall for the "if it's too good to be true - than it is" shit. But, call me the eternal optimist when it comes to matters of the heart (and clearly not always the sharpest tack in the box) there was a small part of me that believed that Wesley was different from all the other idiots.

CUZ, I'M A FUCKING MORON.

So, here it is. Here's what has brought me to this Doozy. And my current ennui.
Lately, it'd been FEELING to me like Wesley and I had, more or less, been dating. We'd go out, we'd eat, we were affectionate with each other, we were learning about each others lives, we'd have sex...you know we'd engage in all the standard rituals that people do in the dating world. But we didn't actually stand up to one another and voiced the words
"Yes, I'd like to date you, get to know you and see where this goes."
Doesn't seem like that hard of a concept...really.
At least it didn't to me.
Because here's the thing:
Wesley and I both liked each other - a lot
Wesley and I had a ton in common
The sex was great
WHY THE FUCK WOULDN'T WE WANT TO DATE EACH OTHER?
Time?
Family?
Jobs?
Friends?

Pshaw. Wesley and I only saw each other once a week as it was, so I figured nothing would really change there. It was just dating for fuck sakes - not a god damn commitment ceremony. And the rest? Well fuck, that comes with t-i-m-e.
Because really, all dating is - is the acknowledgment that (in this case) Wesley and I liked each other enough to stop fucking around, step up, let our guards down and see if there might really have been something there between us.

So, I hoisted up my ladyballz, was brave, vulnerable and texted Wesley a very nice little text, asking him if he wanted to go steady...
And waited.
And waited.
And waited.

Wesley's response was - telling to say the least. Wesley was surprised that I would want to date, shocked - given my mindset (wha?) and he wasn't expecting me to ask that; BUT HE DEFINITELY STILL WANTS TO SEE ME (I bet=pussy.). But he had a lot on his plate right now and he had to process this, he wasn't expecting me to ask this.

I see.

Then Wesley went dark. No communication, no texting. Nothing.
For days.
LIKE I HAVEN'T SEEN THIS BEFORE.

So, I had my answer right away. Without having my answer right away.
But, I'm an addition to someone's life, not an intrusion. And I'm a fucking amazing girlfriend/ chick to date. And the "I have a lot on my plate" excuse just doesn't hold water with me anymore. I have a lot going on in my life also - everyone has a fucking lot going on in their lives. But the right person would slip into my life like a well fitting glove. That's how it's supposed to work. That's why you date someone, to test that theory. And with the right person, it's isn't even really like work.
RIGHT?

But like I've said before
SCARED
MEN
RUN
And Wesley ran fast and hard.
Just disappeared.
Nada.
Zip
Into thin air.
FOR DAYS.
I finally broke down and sent him a simple "any questions? anything you want to talk about?" text last night.
To which Wesley answered:
"Sorry, been really busy. Especially at work. Church last night"
Okay. So there's "Gee my mom just got hit by a car busy" and there's "I'm avoiding you at all costs busy" - which are two very different things in my book. And by now I'd picked up on his cues loud and clear.
ENOUGH.
I GET IT.
I MAY BE OLD, BUT I AIN'T SLOW.

So, after a night of tossing and turning, I sent Wesley a text:

I don't expect a response.  Which has left me feeling...
...
...
...
very.
sad.

Because I really DID like Wesley - more than I have liked anyone else in awhile, and probably more than I would likely admit out loud. We had a lot in common, we seemed so fucking compatible. And not in the janky Hipster Pinocchio/mirroring way, but in a real life way. I mean, Wesley and I didn't have every single thing in common, but just enough to keep things interesting.  Just enough to keep me curious and wanting to know more. Just enough to make me take the step to want to date again. Wesley sure talked a good game, I'll give him that. Then blew me off when I stepped up.

And I find it ironic that Wesley didn't even once stop to think about what a honor I bestowed upon him...taking the chance of being vulnerable and asking to date him, after all the shit I've been through. Foolish, fickle boy.
We all know how hard vulnerability is for me. HE knew how hard vulnerability is for me. And he took it for granted.
I took a chance, miscalculated, and wasted my precious pride and vulnerability on someone who didn't deserve it.
Lesson learned.

So. In Wesley's eyes, like so, so, so many other men before him I'm probably good enough to fuck - but not good enough to date.

FUCK
THAT
NOISE

Cuz frankly, as dented as my feelings are right now, Wesley doesn't deserve me, and he has no fucking clue what gift he gave up. Because I'm not only good enough to fuck AND date, but oh, so much more that he didn't even discover, because he didn't have the balls to give us a chance. Or who knows, maybe he has another chick on the side that he doesn't want to give up, or something else in his life that he never told me about - remember, we DID meet on a site dedicated to pussy. Doesn't much matter at this point.

Sigh.
Typical.
Oh, so typical.




But still. I'm sad. And angry. And slightly bitter at this point. Dammit it all to hell.
I'm more angry at myself than at Wesley, but there's anger at him there as well. Because he shouldn't have been saying romantic, sweet-nothings to me if it was just bullshit to feed his ego. Wesley shouldn't have been trying so hard to get my formidable guard down if he wasn't going to man up if the time came.
What the fuck did he think was going to happen?
Sigh.
On the other hand, we met through a site devoted to finding easy clam sauce. So what did I think was going to happen? Clearly (I see this now), this isn't a man who probably has a lot of emotional readiness in his wheelhouse. And he said upfront that he only wanted to fuck around, regardless of what he was whispering out of the other side of his mouth. What the fuck made me think that I was different? What the fuck did I think was going to happen? For fuck sakes Doozy.

PEOPLE DON'T CHANGE UNLESS THEY WANT TO.

So.
Here I am.
The very hurt I was trying to run from, I ran right into.
How very prophetic of me.

Am I in love with Wesley? Nope. I do like him a lot, and it will take me some time to get over that.
Could I have fallen in love with him? Probably. If magical fairy dust had rained down from the stars, the timing was right and Wesley had been brave enough to give us a chance, yeah, I probably would have stepped out onto the ledge again with him. I would have probably taken that chance, because there just seemed to be...something there between us that...seemed worth...the bravery. I dunno, it's hard to explain. Bravery is a thing for me - not bravado, but bravery; and it's just so lacking in today's single men. Bravery, trust, communication..yadda yadda, I could go on.
It doesn't matter now.
Wesley has been released back into the wild to go hunt for more easy snatch, and I'm back to where I started. With dents in my armor and more to digest. This was one hell of a social experiment, with an outcome I wasn't expecting.

And one I'm not likely to repeat.

There's a part of me that wishes Wesley felt this way, but something tells me, he doesn't.

______________________________________
UPDATE:
I started writing post this a couple days ago
And you know what...
FUCK ALL THIS
From now on, I'm only dating myself
I'm done giving chances to these emotionally stunted boys.
At least I trust myself and I always know where I stand.
I'm so fucking done with this shit.