I showed Mika my dating profile recently and she confirmed my concern that it was a little confusing. I am so unsure of what I want to find, and my profile reflected that. The photos are attractive (and I am still a little uncomfortable that all the pictures were all either taken by or for The Toolman) but in the bio I manage to say I want casual, a part time boyfriend, and love.
Not super clear. And men are easily confused, so I figured I should rewrite it.
But what am I looking for?
Part of me wonders if I should just go back to fucking thirty year old guys for sport and adrenaline rushes. That was fun. The ones my age were usually the worst lovers and worst humans.
The thirty year olds were hit and miss. Most were great fun in the sack, with the odd almost-virgin popping up for a brief appearance once in a while. But I also encountered a few in their late thirties and early forties who could have done with some extra experience.
I think my days of training virgins is over. I need mad skills and surprises.
The kink and swinger activities still interest me, but in the next relationship I would like that to be something that developed over time and with trust. Part of the undoing of The Toolman and I, was that we were running into that craziness before we learned how to walk in our relationship.
Do I want to get on the swinger sites and be a unicorn? Hook up with couples for some bi-action every once in a while. Make an occasion of it and enjoy being the femme fatale fantasy, get all dressed up and swoop in for the big guest appearance before leaving mysteriously into the night.
I don’t want an older man, although some of my nearest and dearest suggest this is what I might need. Someone to guide the relationship. It seems my doubts about my ability to handle love in a grown up fashion may be noticeable to those around me.
But older men are icky and wrinkly, right? Boring and set in their ways, misogynistic, boys-club types. Blah.
What about five years younger? That might work. A younger man, but one who is past wanting kids and still knows how to have fun, but is a bit more grown up. That is what I thought The Toolman was, until he dropped his “maybe I still want kids” bombshell.
I wonder if he has knocked someone up yet? *shakes that thought out of her head*
When I close my eyes and imagine my ideal relationship, there are some things I see.
Sensuality, long slow kisses building to uncontrollable passion (God I miss kissing The Toolman), affection, attention, someone who wants to talk and laugh with me, someone who wants to take trips and explore the world with me. A man who will be protective and supportive, someone who will call me on my nonsense and not be afraid to talk problems out. Someone dependable who sees all I have to offer and wants it.
Someone who doesn’t care about my crazy bed hair and adorable lady-snoring, someone who will pull me close under the sheets, sleepily stroke my skin, inflaming my desire and wordlessly waking me up with fucking awesome sex.
Someone I can’t stop thinking about. Someone whose stories I want to hear, and he wants to hear mine. He asks questions and lets me know he remembers what I tell him. Someone I want to get dressed up for, just so he can slide his hands under the clothes, letting me know I am as beautiful to him naked as I am in makeup and finery.
I want to see the desire in his eyes, I want to have little jokes and sayings just between us. A wink or smirk across a crowded room to let him know I want him immediately.
A man who will look after me when I am sick or sad, and who will allow me to comfort him when he feels bad too.
I want to let down my guard and give myself without fear.
I edited my bio and took out the conflicting messages, so lets see what happens.
Meanwhile, I got a couple of snapchats this week. The Mystery Man tried for a late night hook up again last night, but I wanted to finish The Walking Dead so I ignored him. And I haven’t shaved my legs (or anything else) for ages and I couldn’t be bothered going to any effort for him. That sort of shows I am not really in the right headspace yet, right?
I do wonder if some weed and silly sex with him might be just what the doctor ordered. Loosen me up a little. But…meh.
Wednesday night I got a Superlike notification. I opened the app hoping desperately and pathetically that it was The Toolman again, only to find it was The Shy Boy. His profile hadn’t changed; same picture and only a “Hi” in the bio. The Shy Boy has been on my snapchat list for ages and he often looks at my snaps, but we only ever had the one awkward encounter over a year ago and haven’t spoken since.
I ignored his Superlike and sent him a snap.
“LOL – was that an accident?”
The Shy Boy responded immediately, “Oh I forgot you are on my Snapchat.”
”But it wasn’t an accident.”
Did he seriously want to hook up again? He lived even further away than The Toolman and that was a long drive for him to just give me head then jerk himself off.
Ugh. I ignored him and he is yet to muster the courage to ask me for whatever it is he was hoping to achieve with the Superlike.
So frustrated with the apps, I sat on the sofa this morning reporting guys with blank profiles (no pics, no words) as spam. As well as a few fake military guys coincidentally stationed in Nigeria. Maybe that should be my mission in life; clean up Tinder. A one-woman, dickhead-detecting, profile policer. If only they would pay me to do that. The task would be endless and I would be a hero to all of woman-kind.
The Chef has been popping into my head a lot. He appears as someone I may know on FB all the time and a few people have said to me “Whatever happened to The Chef? Why don’t you message him, he was nice.”
Still too young for me to keep him but I would be very, very happy to have a little catch up with him.
So I just sent him a text.