Tag Archive | relationships

Mirror, Mirror On The Wall



I find it interesting, and a bit disconcerting, every single person I know has a very concrete idea of the person they think they want to find. A set of standards, things they are looking for, and things they are hoping to avoid.

This has brought me to some related questions/conclusions, along with today’s most valuable lesson. One question; if you are seeking someone with similar interests and you are a bookworm, couch potato, why are you dating athletic types who want to be on the go and haven’t read a book since college? A conclusion; people are basing their hopes on completely unrealistic ideals.

The previous conclusion leads into today’s self-evaluation topic. Before you can truly go about finding someone suitable to spend more than two weeks with, you should really figure out Who the Fuck Are You?! Truly, genuinely, inside and out.

When I read online dating profiles, I’m always amused. Guess what, every guy on *insert unnamed dating service*.com loves basketball, hiking, beaches, travel, romantic nights. Really???!!! All of you do, huh? Fascinating. Tell me more. (giant bit of sarcasm for you there, happy Friday!)

Obviously, there is a level of dishonesty in some cases. But I really do find in most cases, more than anything else, it’s them portraying their “ideal self”. The guy they would be, if only….. It’s the if only creating the problem.

My suggestion to anyone who is going to be dating is to take a look at themselves. An honest look. Sure, we all have those friends who are going to tell us how amazing we are, how stupid the entire single world is for not beating our door down, we’re beautiful/handsome, a total catch. This is awesome and everyone needs and deserves the support, believe me, there will be times when your ego is going to take major, undeserved hits. Those people need to be on standby for just such occasions.

The problem comes from believing all of the hype, all of the time. Yes, maybe you are beautiful, but then again, maybe your beauty is only skin deep. I’m sure you are amazing, but you probably have some flaws, too.

When I sat down recently to genuinely evaluate who I am and what I have to offer, I found that I like myself quite a bit. I also found myself disappointed in Me in several areas. (hey, I warned y’all I started seeing a psychologist after the first breakup with mi Colombiano, this shit is what we do)

The point wasn’t by any means to beat myself up, or to build myself up. It was to ground myself. Arm myself from unfair assessments by others, give me the ability to acknowledge the fair ones with grace, and the chance to work on areas I choose to change.

One of my best features is my unwavering support of those I care for, be it emotionally, physically, or other, I will do anything for someone I care about, putting myself aside to be there for them. One of my worst is I am judgemental…..yes, I am judging you: your hair, your shoes, those earrings, your inability to spell, etc…I am judgy.

Obviously, I dug much deeper than these issues, but hey, some stuff you people just don’t need to know. 😉

Have you ever done an honest character evaluation of yourself? Did you find it uplifting? Depressing? Do you think I should stop seeing this psychologist immediately?? LOL




Playa, Playa….


I did NOT create this picture, if I had, it would say “YOU’RE a player” not “your a player”….just sayin’

Let’s not fool ourselves. Every time anyone enters the dating arena, they will encounter the inevitable Playa’s. (I’m over all that, babe. I’m looking for the real thing now.) The two questions anyone who accepts a Playa as a potential date must ask themselves are simple. Do I have the self-confidence to deal with this man/woman? Do I feel like I will be able to sort through the canned lines and the real person, assuming there is one, beneath them?

I don’t fear the Playa’s of the world. Some people probably think, because I am honest about dating people with no commitment to anyone right now, I am a Playa. I would argue against that sort of assumption though. On the basis I am very upfront to potential dates, I don’t pretend my intentions are any different than they really are, and I am not hooking up with every guy who takes me out.

Of course, people have varying definitions of Playa’s, too. I mean, one girl’s Playa is another girl’s guy with a past. There is a difference, right? Or is there?

When I view them, I just see varying levels of Playa’s. I see the active Playa, one who is trying to score with a different person every night they go out, or more than one a night. I see the Pursuit Playa, chasing with vigor and then losing interest once the conquest is established. The Emotional Playa, wanting to gain the emotional dependence of their targets, before moving on. The Stealth Playa, the most dangerous, but also extremely rare. This is the Playa no one realizes is a Playa. No reputation precedes them, no canned or cheesy lines ever fall from their lips. They just blind side you.

The thing about me is, I don’t hate the Playa’s, or their game. I simply am bored by it. They don’t seem to realize, after hearing these things over and over, it just becomes tiresome. There is a place and time for every type of person. I can, and am, currently entertaining the notion of a Playa in the mix. I have no fear of them. I simply must be honest, though. The Playa is the least likely person for me to ever open myself up to. He would have to step up his game to a level most simply aren’t capable of managing.

We shall see. What type of Playa’s did I miss? Do all of us Think we can handle a Playa until we get caught up in one? Is there a little bit of Playa in everyone on the dating scene these days?


Is Romance Simply a Dead Art?

Dead Flowers


There is no shortage of available men in my life right now. There is no shortage of available men in the world. There are sweet text messages sent randomly, dinners, ………ummm, yeah, that’s about it.

When did we stop encouraging, or at least hoping for real romance? Is a Facebook “Like” the new flower delivery? How does Edible Arrangements stay in business? Party planners. That is my assumption, anyway. I’ve been back on the dating scene for a while now. Dated guys who would consider themselves old-fashioned, new school, players, and everything in between. What do they not realize? There is little to no difference in any of them.

Yes, I am saying this with a very certain tone. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying I am giving up on romance. We have already established I am not settling. I am not trying to let the general lack of inspiration by the men I have met so far, deter me from our eventual Knight in Shining Armor.

I will find the one who surprises me. The one who wants me enough to work for it a little. The one who puts some thought into it. I’m a unique person, I will find the one who sees it, appreciates it, responds to it.

The thing is, romance is subjective. What one of us finds romantic, another finds unimaginative. If a man is going to romance me, or you, or his wife, or anyone, it should be tailored to her. One problem this presents us with  is, we, as the ones who wish to be romanced, have to open ourselves enough for a man/woman to feel confident in his knowledge and place with us.

We also should be proactive. Give to receive, etc. There is no social standard any more which says all of the romance should be initiated by one sex. We are capable of romancing, too. I happen to have set a standard for myself, but in today’s dating world, everyone gets to create their own version of normal.

What do you find to be romantic? When is the last time someone you dated made a romantic gesture? When is the last time you made a romantic move? How did it go?

The Rules of Romantic Roulette



Granted, it’s not as cut and dry as some list of qualities I am seeking. I think, I hope, we can all agree, the days of  “must make $400K a year, have at least two homes, no more than one ex-wife, and 2.3 kids” are long gone. I’m seeking a person, flesh and blood, and hopefully just as flawed as I know myself to be. Of course, he must recognize some of his flaws, present them unabashedly, and know he deserves love anyway, just as I do.

“Maybe I’m just too demanding…” The sweet-smelling strands of Prince cloud my keyboard, as I am writing this.

I do have some hard and fast rules, both for my expectations of men, and for myself. (like Prince said….demanding….)

So, for anyone wondering, let me lay them out there. When you read these, you are going to laugh and say, “Come on, this stuff is common sense, no one would ever…..”, to which I say, “In a relationship for a pretty long time, huh? Never tried online dating, right? Or, damnable option, you’re the person I am trying to avoid, or avoid becoming.”

Rules for Myself:

If he seems truly interesting, make the first move. There is no set of rules anywhere, saying men are solely responsible for striking up conversation or asking about lunch sometime. Better to step up, than miss out. (this rule applies online, as well. If I’m interested, I send a short email, usually a little bit of wit and a little explanation of what caught my interest.)

Don’t begin to justify other people’s actions, or romanticize out of boredom or loneliness.

If you want to sleep with him, sleep with him. There is no magic number, no set time, no mythical song will play when it is time. We are all adults and sex is one of life’s pleasures. Truth be told, I am not going to long term date someone who the sex is atrocious with anyway. If he thinks you’re a whore for sleeping with him so soon, then he’s a whore too, so you’re still on equal footing.

Speak up! If he’s tanking a date because he can’t stop talking about his ‘mom, kids, ex, job, hobby’, etc. make three gentle attempts to ease him out of it. He could just be super nervous. I am fucking amazing and men get nervous in my presence. LOL If you try to ease him out of it, but it continues, do him the favor of telling him. Be honest, a simple, “I’m trying to keep up, but wow! We have been talking about your ex for 30 minutes straight now.” If this doesn’t end the diatribe, it is now acceptable to smile, get your purse, stand, leave.

Do not spend extended periods of time on any of the previously mentioned subjects when with anyone you have not been on numerous dates with and they are asking questions about the topic. Lots of questions. These are not date topics. (okay, hobbies are great date topics, but moderation is key)

Be honest with them. If the spark just wasn’t there, but they are still blowing up your phone……no stringing along!

Rules for Men I Date:

Disrespect of my time is not acceptable. I deserve to know if you tell me you are going to be somewhere, I can count on you to be there, or tell me, in advance, you will not.

Infringement of my personal space is not to be forced. I’m not shy, if I want you to hold my hand, you will know. If you just had to reach a full arms length and take a step sideways to grasp my hand, I didn’t want you to have it. Don’t act all shell-shocked when I withdraw it (from your grubby little claws).

I identify myself as a grammar nazi, self-promoting writer……why are you surprised I didn’t respond to your email reading, “hey girl i like you’re stile” I don’t care if you look like Ryan Gosling, WE are not going to work. And…you should be glad I deleted my initial response.

If you are Ryan Gosling, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE spell correctly and use proper punctuation. I would hate to miss out on you!

Don’t ask me, while in the first 15 minutes of our first date, if I’m feeling the connection, too. If you ask, I will be forced to tell you the asking of the question just left me feeling a little frightened and concerned about your future stalking potential.

Don’t be angry. Angry, bitter, unhappy…it may be masked initially, at times, but the minute I pick up on it, I’m out. I am seeking someone to enjoy life’s moments with, not to listen to how the world just keeps beating you down.

Don’t think you have me all figured out, and for fuck’s sake, don’t tell me you do. I don’t even know all the many wonderful facets of myself at this point in life. You definitely do not either. On the flip side, please seek them out with me, and try to appreciate them for what they are…….tiny pieces of me.

Do be exuberant about something. I don’t care what it is, have some passion for something in your life!

Do have interests in more than NASCAR and baseball. 🙂 (it’s okay, she’s out there somewhere. I’m just not her.)

Do understand that just because I don’t think you are right for me, doesn’t mean I am judging you as unfit. We just aren’t suitable for one another.



Whew! I’m sure the list will grow, the longer we do this. I don’t feel like I’m being all crazed with expectations. I had a situation with a guy who I went out with twice, then he just didn’t show for our third date. I sent him one text, when it was clear he wasn’t going to show.

“Not waiting here any longer, going on home. Hope you’re okay.”

We had actually really hit it off. Great chemistry, great times when we had gotten together. Then that. It seemed strange. No matter who you are, something like that makes you question your judgement.

The next day, I received a text from him.

“I’m so sorry baby girl! I totally forgot and went out with a few friends after I dropped the kids off.”

I’m sorry, did I read that wrong? He “totally forgot” he had a date with me?!?! I’m so much better than that. I replied;

“Well, I hate to hear that. I’m sure we would have had a good time. Good luck on your search for someone ______. It was a pleasure meeting you.”

Within 5 seconds, he was responding to the brush off.

“Whoa! You’re seriously overreacting. Calm down. I missed one date, not like I skipped out on your birthday.”

This made me pause, and truly evaluate my reaction, verses my possible reactions. I know people who would have instantly forgiven him, then complained down the road because he repeats the behavior. I know people who would have blown up his phone the night he didn’t show up and made a huge fight of it. I know people who would have just blocked him from their phone and all social media and pretended it never happened.

I sent one last message to him:

“_______, There were many ways I could have reacted to being stood up. My reaction is the one I am comfortable with right now. I place a higher value on myself than to date someone who forgets our plans. I’m not angry, just know my own worth.”

He has randomly called, texted and even suggested we try getting together again since then. I’m not saying I will never go out with him again, the attraction to him was strong. What I can say is, I felt good about my decision. Still do.

Deciding what is acceptable to you is a valuable dating tool. Know your lines, limits, and personal limitations. Don’t start out the process compromising.






Mi Colombiano Part Two of Two



We will pick up where we left off yesterday. I just assured you jealousy should be your dress color at what took place when we decided we were a couple. 😉 Here ya’ go, the rest of the story……..


Three nights later he asked me, point-blank, if I had sex with Sunday Morning after he and I met. I was honest with him. He was angry, but also understood he had no real ground to stand on. We were in a bad place, and we had never had any clear definition to our relationship. We had a very serious conversation the following weekend about all of the reasons I didn’t trust him before, he seemed stunned.

It was also the first time I told him I loved him. We spent the next two months in a pretty blissful place. We decided to look for an apartment together. We were moving into a serious potential future together. Then, everything fell apart because some asshole soldier decided to text me a Tatum Channing style pic, my response being “Wow, really?!” meaning ….why the fuck would you send that to me??….turns out this translation is not universal. The soldier then added to it by suggesting we should go out sometime. Through an insane course of events, mi Colombiano saw these. He wasn’t snooping, I wasn’t hiding them, becaause I had nothing to hide, I wasn’t interested in anyone but him. To say he lost it would be an understatement of epic proportions. He went fucking nuts! There were a lot of ugly things said that night, he was done, I was crushed.

Three nights later, in an effort to be civil, we had dinner. The man I was in love with looked at me from across the table and told me I would be easily replaced. That is not something you ever forget. I still can’t write it without crying. I wish I could defend him, say it came from a place of anger, but that isn’t who he is. He just meant it, believed it.

We ended the dinner re-introducing ourselves to one another, shaking hands and exchanging names. A fresh start, we would just see where it took us. Two days later, we were back together. It was wonderful and easy and seemed right.

Two weeks after, he sent me a text from a hotel room in Tennessee, drunk and talking to his brother, he decided he couldn’t do it. Couldn’t move past it. Couldn’t deploy and wonder what I was doing back here. I was visiting my parents when the messages began to come in, with a rapid-fire quickness. I sat at the table, my dad sitting a foot from me, trying not to seem upset. Leaving soon afterwards, resolving right then, this time was different. I wouldn’t let him do it again.

When he received mail at my house the following week, I sent him a text and told him to have one of his guys meet me to pick it up. I bagged all of the stuff he had given me along with the mail. I needed to clear him out of my life.

I started going to therapy after the first break up, it was a saving grace during the second one. I wrote him one last email. Simple, to the point, closure.

Then I waited to feel whole again. Then, his deployment day came, then it went, and I never saw him or heard from him. The amount of tears I expelled that day is ridiculous. Then, he received mail again. I knew it was important. I emailed, to let him know. He sent his APO. I broke, bought some of his favorite cookies, printed the weather report for the region of Afghanistan he is in and scribbled a lot of nonsensical comments. Sent it all to him.

He emailed a thank you, only added some additional stuff in there.

Then he received more mail. We went through the process again, and this time I included some of his favorite candy bars. I keep telling myself it’s just because I have a soft spot for our men and women in harm’s way, which I definitely do, but in truth, it is because I don’t trust his family to take the time to send him anything and I can’t bear the thought of him being there and receiving nothing. Not him.

Three days ago, while I was busy scrubbing my new house, he tried to talk to me on GoogleChat. When I saw, twenty minutes too late, the messages, I just sat and cried, again.

I learned a lot from this relationship. Things like, communication really is essential to anything. If we had communicated with one another about our feelings, suspicions, fears, and expectations, each and every time we felt them, we would be in a very different place now.

I need to stop expecting people to disappoint me. I allowed myself to become conditioned to disappointment, now I expect it to be part of every package. It doesn’t have to be, I’m allowed to set the bar. I don’t have to settle.

I can’t receive love, if I’m busy defending myself from it.

I am capable of giving myself to someone, completely. Or at least, I was, I hope to be again someday. After all, this whole blog is based on my search for romance, love, the final One. I have no idea when or if I will find him. Maybe I already have and we just don’t know it, but we will take the journey, all of you and I.

To Elly, I did it! I made it through the whole thing, with honesty, tears and a lot of snotty, nasty tissues piled beside me!

Mi Colombiano Part One of Two


I have started this post over a dozen times. Each one ending in deletion. I keep remembering something my friend Elly wrote a while back about honesty in writing. I keep asking myself, “Are you really ready to just lay it out there? Say it all? Because if not, you are doing your readers and yourself a disservice.”

This is the reason we are here. Him. Us. The absence of us. The end of what we both treasured, but neither of us maintained. The reason I am seeking romance on the open internet. The reason I have set new standards of what I can and cannot accept. The reason I evaluated my fault and accepted the things in myself needing to change in order to maintain a healthy, happy relationship.

He is also a member of The Cast, as even from thousands of miles away, he keeps popping in and out. I would love to tell you I am over him. I would love to tell you I don’t cry with every new email. I would love to tell you…..but fucking Elly keeps popping up in my brain…so I will tell you, as briefly as I can, why. If I am able to convey it, at least a portion of the Us there used to be, then you will understand.

I don’t prescribe to the “love at first sight” theory, and it wasn’t. It was attraction. Pure, exhilarating, heart-stopping attraction. He came looking for a phone charger and left two hours later with a new phone, complete with my number programmed in it. Two hours later, we were having a glass of wine and laughing together at a local eatery. I still have the pictures I taught him to send, after he insisted he wanted the first pictures he took on his new phone to be of the two of us.

He had been sent to Fort Knox by mistake and would be leaving three days later for Georgia. We spent as much time as my work schedule would allow until he left. His last words to me before he left were, “We Will see each other again. I will make sure of it.” (for added sexiness, he has a very thick Colombian accent, I’m talking , holy hotness accent!!)

Two days after he left, my phone rang while I was at work, it was him. Despite myself, I was excited to answer the call. “Hey sexy, guess what? I’m not supposed to be in Georgia. They have my orders all screwed up. I will be back at Knox permanently in two days.”

I don’t remember my response, but I remember being genuinely happy. I wanted to see him again. I wanted to see him a lot. And see him a lot, I did. We had dinner the night he returned……..and the next night, and the night after.

We got into a routine, dinner a few weeknights, then spend all weekend together. We laughed, talked, explored, experienced…….we were both very happy. We were also in a strange place. Neither of us ever mentioning where we were on the relationship scale. Were we? Weren’t we?

Over the next three months, this odd balance of perfection in moments, and suspicion and doubt in others, became our normal cycle. I was falling in love with him, but didn’t trust him. Worst of all, we didn’t talk about any of it. We just spent our time together enjoying each other’s company. That was something we were good at, enjoying each other. We spent countless hours talking……..subject matter wasn’t important, we just enjoyed talking to one another.

The intimacy between us was remarkable, not just on a physical level (which I promise, was fucking phenomenal) but also on a true, emotional level. Yet, nothing was ever uttered about us, as a couple. We were the definition of limbo.

He was leaving for 20 days in mid-December to go home to Colombia, spend Christmas with his daughter and see his mother, sister, etc.

The night before he left went all sideways and he left for the trip with us not even saying goodbye. The entire week leading up to the trip had gone very poorly. I really wasn’t sure we would continue to see one another when he returned. I was shocked by how incredibly sad this made me, but had the holiday to focus on and keep from going all crazy about it.

Then Christmas came and our family had some rough times hit. I made bad choices. I ran from my feelings for him, in his absence, and leaned on Sunday Morning for the support role. It was as much to prove to myself I didn’t need him as it was about anything else.

Then he returned, things were strained, but good when he first returned. Then there was a horrendously awkward moment where I was in the middle of telling Sunday Morning that mi Colombiano and I were seeing one another and he walked in, bringing me Starbucks. (because he did sweet little things like that, as an excuse to see me and a way to make my work days seem more bearable) There was an immediate tension between the two of them I didn’t understand, but it was palpable.

When he walked away, Sunday Morning shook his head, told me I was making a mistake, and walked away. The minute I got in the car after work, mi Colombiano asked me how I knew Sunday Morning. I told him part of the truth, we had been friends for a long time. “I know him.” was all he said in response.

That night, while we were lying in bed, he asked me to tell him something he didn’t know about himself. I thought for a moment and said, “You give me butterflies every single time you kiss me, still, after all of these months.”  He pulled me closer to him and told me he was glad. We were both very quiet for a few minutes, then he quietly said, “I want you to be just mine, can we do that? Do you want that?”  I kissed him and nodded, “Very much, I want that very much.” I’m not going to tell you what happened next, but you should be seriously fucking envious. 😉

Part one of two, Part two to be published tomorrow

Majorus Interruptus








As promised, we will catch up on the new Cast Members and their respective entrances, exits, idiosyncracies, etc.

Majorus Interruptus will be a fun place to start. Flirtatious guy, older than me (we all know, in my book, that is a strike against him), raising 3 kids(one of whom should be raised by now!!!), moderately attractive, very clever….we will consider him a persistent contender.

He showed up “on scene”, not through the dating website. Got my phone number through a mutual acquaintance, then called to suggest lunch. He had been funny when I met him, was amusing on the phone when he asked, but I was unavailable for lunch at the proposed time, so he jumped right to the “clearly, we are destined to have dinner then” line. I acquiesced, and the plan was simple, just cruise around and sight see until we got hungry, then play the restaurant by ear.

He was smart to go with this plan, and to choose a casual jeans sort of dress code. It had been a physically and emotionally draining week for me and the laid back feel of the evening appealed to me.

He arrived on time, had completely acceptable jeans and pullover shirt on. Away we went for an evening cruise in a reasonable, but sporty muscle car. I was comfortable.

Conversation was smooth and easy. He and I were laughing a lot and it was very relaxing to just ride and not feel the need to worry about anything. We could be wherever we wanted to be, when we wanted to be there.

Until……..while showing me his old neighborhood, he asks if I would mind terribly if he ran in to check on his grandmother, since we were so close to her house. I could stay in the car and he would only be a moment. I didn’t see it as a huge deal, I would do the same, honestly.

When he went to her door, though, there was no answer. He got back in the car and called, also no answer. He was becoming concerned, when a white SUV jam-packed full of women pulled in behind us.

“Oh my hell!” being his response, I guessed immediately I was in for a treat. I was right. Grandmother, two Aunties, one cousin and a great cousin all come rolling out. So excited to see him, AND, of course, the lady friend(no joke, I was referred to as ‘the lady friend’). After an extremely warm and only mildly inquisitive visit with all of them, we beat a hasty retreat back to the car.

He was terribly apologetic and the whole thing really had just amused me. The women, while clearly judging me…..my appearance, my demeanor, my education and my family status….were incredibly warm, friendly and funny as hell.

We had been back on the road for about five minutes when he received a call. It was his mother, making it clear she expected him to stop in, what with every other woman in her family already calling and texting her about the lovely ‘lady friend’ Majorus Interruptus had with him at grandmother’s house.

I couldn’t help but laugh out loud, which ‘Mom’ heard over the bluetooth. If there is one thing I learned a long time ago, it is you don’t mess with Southern mommas. If I end up actually dating this guy, this is a necessary stop. He was in the process of arguing his way out of it when I stopped him. “We might as well go, it will keep us both out of trouble”, I chided. He pointed out to his mom I had said we should, and only then, was it acceptable for him to get off of the phone.

He was giving me pre-game instructions on all of his mom’s behavior, prepping me like we were about to head into battle. We arrived at a lovely little suburban home, like any other, except with X’s drawn on paper, placed on several windows of the front of the house.

“What the hell?!” was his response to seeing this, I was amused. As we entered the house of this perfectly coiffed, overly manicured woman, wearing something that reminded me of the clothes my friends and I wore while in New Orleans, he immediately asked of the X’s……..and we were off. I believe I said three words during the visit, I did get the full pictorial review of her trip to Paris, (paid for by the younger brother of my date) her trip to Disney, (paid for by his next to oldest brother) her trip to Germany to see his youngest brother, which, was only fair since she was going to see him, she pointed out). She only ‘suggested’ to Majorus Interruptus twice he should pay for her LightLift Facelift while we were there. Oh, and her computer is feeling a bit old, what with that new Windows system being out for so long now.

Somewhere in this onslaught, a text had come through to his phone from the daughter who should be raised by now. Did we want to join them for pizza at one of my favorite(unbeknownst to him) pizza places in Louisville? That was a Hell Yeah!

Not that I wasn’t having a fabulous time…………

So, we were hauling ass to extract ourselves from the tornado repellent(remember those X’s??) house. Almost making it out the door before ‘Mom’ asked what is apparently THE only thing she needed to know about me.

“What sign are you?” Seriously…….this was the Only question she asked me the entire time. I told her……….she was excited. Very well. I passed all kinds of tests I didn’t, as of this moment, care to even be taking.

When we were safely in the car, he looked at me and said, “As you can imagine, I’m used to high maintenance women. If anything, that is a big plus for women in my life.”

That is one way to look at it. The daughter, her boyfriend, and friends were a nice change of pace. Relaxed, out for some fun on a Friday night. It was enjoyable joining them.

After dinner we strolled down the streets of the city, to the Belvedere. It was quite lovely. After a bit of just looking out and talking about the madness of the evening, we decided it was time to head back home.

We did stop for a drink at a local bar, once we returned to our little town. Then, he dropped me off at home, apologized for the massive interruption to our plans, and kissed me on the cheek. His daughter had teased him at dinner about pretty much ensuring there would be no second date, to which I responded with a genuine laugh.

He asked me if I would text him the next morning and I said of course. Which I did……

So, now you’ve met Majorus Interruptus. What do you think?

Do we sink the Major’s ship because of some clear and present mommy danger?

Do we give him another go round and see if he can manage a family-less date?

Do we even care, since he was already barely passing means testing?

I know what I think, but I want to know what you think………..