Let me start from the beginning.

A couple of week ago, my roommate told me she expected me to at least make out with someone at our big housewarming party.  After all, there would be a few guys I could pick from, including her best friend from back home, who she was convinced I would think is cute.

Cue to Saturday afternoon when I walked downstairs to see what I can only describe as a rugged mountain man.  Scruffy beard, messy long brunette hair.  Not my normal nerdy, clean cut lawyer type.

Mountain man and I talked for a bit before the party but then I got drunk and spent time with my friends.  I really don’t know how we ended up together at the end of the night but we did.  We fooled around a bit but didn’t sleep together.  I was a bit too drunk for my comfort level and for whatever reason, felt like 12 hours wasn’t long enough to know someone before having sex with them.

But 17 hours was plenty.

He started kissing me to wake me up and we ending up doing it.

For more than 45 minutes.

He was very sweet and attentive.  He didn’t make me feel cheap or gross and afterwards he held me and kissed my forehead.  I was a bit embarrassed because I haven’t had a bikini wax down there in about a month and a half but he brushed off my worries.

I mean, he was seeing me naked.

We went out and got breakfast which helped ward off our hangovers, then crawled back into bed where we did it again.

For more than 45 minutes.

He asked me what I wanted and I told him to pull my hair; which he made sure to do on multiple occasions.  He complimented me on various body parts and after I had my 6th orgasm, we lulled into a deep sleep for about an hour.  I had to drag myself out of bed for a baby shower but I gave him a kiss on the cheek and hurried back as soon as I could.

After my roommate and her boyfriend went upstairs for the night, Mountain Man snuggled me on the couch as I introduced him to the amazingness that is Portlandia.  Soon after we went up to my room, kissed a bit and feel asleep as I warmed up with his arms around me.

Around 6:45 in the morning, I woke up to him started kissing my neck and had the best sex of the three times.  I didn’t have to be at work until mid-morning, so we drove to a coffee shop and sat and talked for a bit before I dropped him off at the train station.

My roommate talks about Mountain Man all the time and he told me she talks to him about me a lot, so it’s not like we were complete strangers but it was still a very much out of character for me.

Do I regret it? Absolutely not.

This sounds extremely strange but our “mini-fling,” for lack of a better term, felt grown up and gave me a more healthy view of sex.  It was never awkward between us.  We never lacked for things to talk about in and out of bed and he never made me feel cheap or gross.  We are two people who enjoy sex, and each other’s company, and it worked.

I know I’ll see him and talk to him again.  But our time together was unexpected.  And as I navigate through dating, I’m finding I enjoy the unexpected more and more.  I like feeling pleasantly surprised.   Because when it happens, I figure out what I actually want is completely different from what I thought I wanted.

And it’s always better.

I’ve been holding something inside for a long time.  And I’ve only realized this week how much it’s been affecting me.   I haven’t written about it because I’m afraid the person it’s about will read it and the strong front I’ve been projecting will be gone.

It’s getting dark and it’s all too quiet and I can’t trust anything now. And it’s coming over you like it’s all a big mistake. 

I miss the Justice.   I have missed him every day since the day I had to stop having him in my life.  I miss talking to him, I miss telling him things, and I miss him telling me how much he believes in me.

I’m holding my breath.  Won’t lose you again.  Something made your eyes grow cold.

I finally broke down and told this to Office Husband, and later, Flamingo.   Office hubs told me this is completely normal, that he and I had something good but the Justice is with someone else now and I’ve moved on with other boys and what I need is time.   But it’s been six months.  I should be completely moved on but I’m not.

Don’t leave me like this.  I thought I had you figured out.  Something’s gone terribly wrong.  You’re all I wanted. 

It makes me feel pathetic and weak and I don’t like this one bit.  But no matter how good of a job I’m doing controlling my feelings, I can’t escape them.   I care as much about the Justice now as when I did when he was in my life.   I am unsure if that will ever go away.

Stood there and watched you walk away from everything we had.  But I still mean every word I said to you.

I’ve dated different men, slept with a couple, and have gone through the motions I’m supposed to go through.  I’ve met Mr. E, a man I could still have a future with.  I flirted dangerously close to being with J.B.  I should have been able to shake any memory of the Justice off months ago.  But I can’t.

He will try to take away my pain and he just might make me smile but the whole time I’m wishing he was you instead.

My heart wants me to have the Justice back in my life but my head knows better.  While it’s hard to cut off someone incredibly important to me, I know it will be harder for me to let him back in.  And I’d rather than the lesser of the two hurts.

I’m holding my breath.  Won’t see you again.  Something keeps me holding on to nothing. 

I don’t know if the Justice still reads the blog and I don’t know if he’ll ever read this and think how much better he’s doing than me and how he’s ahead in the competition of “who will die alone and miserable.”  But I can’t let that small possibility stop me from writing.

Something’s gone terribly wrong.  Won’t finish what you started

Maybe I need more time than most normal people.  Maybe I have more emotional depth than I try to give off.  Maybe I’m the very opposite of cold-hearted, which is why disappointment or heartbreak seems to take forever to leave my body.   Maybe that’s more of a flaw than I thought before.

Can’t breathe whenever you’re gone.  Can’t go back, I’m haunted. 

I’ve never been a big fan of New Year’s Eve.  So much build-up and too much let-down.  I try to just give it as much thought as I do any night I go out but the one thing I absolutely love about NYE is the fresh start we all get when the clock strikes midnight.  I’ve previously written about how I don’t like resolutions but I like the idea of starting each year looking forward and forgetting last year’s mistakes.  Let go of the hurt, the grudges, the anger.  All that can be wiped away with one simple phrase:  Happy new year.

Not that last year was completely terrible but I’m ready for good things to happen to me in 2012.  I’m ready to say yes.

Yes to the the things I deserve.

Yes to the type of person I deserve.

Yes to everything I’ve been scared of saying yes to in the past.

I was talking with Office Hubs a few weeks ago about how I don’t understand how someone like the Justice, who has very little to offer to another person can find someone but someone like me, who has more than enough to offer someone, has more trouble.   He said that for some reason he believes 2012 is the year I’ll meet someone life-changing.  That I’m a catch and he can’t shake the feeling this year is the year some truly fantastic guy will think so too and hold on.

The cynical, unbelieving part of me wants to roll my eyes but the Stiletto who is ready to say yes is willing to believe that too.

In fact, I started my year of yes by letting a very tall man kiss me not too long after midnight.  Will he call me?  I don’t know but if he does, I know what my answer will be.

“I’ve made mistakes, I’ve felt alone, I had to get rid of dreams that I didn’t know I had. I can’t do 2011 anymore.”

Good thing we don’t have to, Robyn.

Maybe it just a tiny but but not enough for me to stop.

There is a boy.  A boy who really likes me.  A boy who I am lukewarm on.

But it doesn’t stop me from accepting his advances.

Said boy is very sweet and very nice.   But there is no spark because I’m just not very attracted to him.  He’s a boy, not a man and I need a man.  He isn’t very direct and doesn’t take charge.  I know he wants me and if he would grow a pair and grab me and kiss me or even just tell me “I want you,” I might be more inclined but he doesn’t.  And after dating so many weak boys, I want someone who takes charge.  Who tells me “be here at 8pm and wear that little dress,” or someone who scoops up me and kisses me like he means it.   But I haven’t found someone strong enough to do that.  Yet.  I know I will.

In the mean time, there is a sweet and nice boy who tells me I’m pretty, who doesn’t want to be too forward out of respect for me.  Maybe that’s what I need right now but I don’t want to become someone who seeks out validation by having a boy tell her she’s pretty.

I should rebuke his advances but I don’t.

I’ve been a bad, bad girl.  I’ve been careless with a delicate man.

Hunger hurts, and I want him so bad, oh it kills
‘Cause I know I’m a mess he don’t wanna clean up
I got to fold ’cause these hands are too shaky to hold
Hunger hurts, but starving works, when it costs too much to love

And I went crazy again today, looking for a strand to climb
Looking for a little hope
Baby said he couldn’t stay, wouldn’t put his lips to mine,
And a fail to kiss is a fail to cope
I said, ‘Honey, I don’t feel so good, don’t feel justified
Come on put a little love here in my void,’ he said
‘It’s all in your head,’ and I said, ‘So’s everything’
But he didn’t get it I thought he was a man
But he was just a little boy

It’s time for me to stop playing it so safe. 

It’s time for me to jump off the cliff because I know I’ll always land on my feet, no matter what happens.

I’ve started doing this with Mr. E.

He called  to ask if I had a chance to smoke the cigars he sent  a while ago; only two and I need a reason to finish the rest.

He assured me one will come. 

I suggested visiting could be my reason, which he thought was a great idea.

“Pick a weekend and I’ll plan the activities.”

Sometimes I don’t give myself enough credit that I know what I’m doing because my efforts to be a combination of subtle, sexy, and mysterious only work on the older, more established and experienced crowd, not the insecure and awkward boys of my age.

Will Mr. E visit? I don’t know but as I told Flamingo last night, I will never know until I try.  And I’d rather regret the things I’ve done then the things I didn’t do.

If he does come visit, and a weekend with him is anything like the Sunday morning we spent together, I better be prepared to manage expectations.  Because it will be hard for someone else to top it. 

“Being a woman is powerful business when done correctly.”  – Mad Men

No seriously.

I get drunk, say dumb shit, and usually end up saying that dumb shit to someone I care about.

This makes me an asshole.

This is also why I do not like to get drunk.

The last time I got completely shitfaced was my birthday. 

Hopped on bottles and bottles of champagne and very little food, I continued to pester the Justice about why he doesn’t love me.  To the point where he actually left the after party bar because I was making him so uncomfortable.  Also because his dumb ass introverted self (why am I attracted to those types?) can’t handle being social for more than an hour so he was probably practically hyperventilating at having to be around people for an entire afternoon.   

This time was on Thanksgiving Day.  I spent it with friends before heading to see my family up north.   Quarterback decided to make an apple cider that was basically an 80 proof alcoholic beverage.  It was delicious but after 2 glasses and 3 glasses of wine, I was essentially black out drunk.  It was terrible.

I have a good friend.  We talk almost every day.  But he’s secretly (but not so secretly) been pining away for me, for years.  It’s completely obvious. 

I decided to make him the target of my asshole-ness.

In my drunken state, I sent me a text telling him to just “tell me he loves me and call it a day.”

He replied “Of course I do.  Now stop drinking.”

Did I let it end there?

Of course not.  I had to reply with a “but you loooooooooooove me”

Is said friend talking to me?

Not very much.

I told JB (!) this and he laughed, told me it’ll be awkward for a couple of days but he’ll get over it.  But this coming from someone who can’t admit his feelings for me sober, I’m not sure how much I can believe him. 

Oh Stiletto, it might be time to lay off the sauce.

I also apparently told Mr. Preppy “riiiiiiiiight” when he messaged me happy thanksgiving to one of the most amazing women he knows.  Now THAT is fucking hilarious.   

But seriously.

I am an asshole sometimes.

But as 2011 is slowly coming to a close, I’ve decided I’m calling this year a wash.  It was hard for me, no doubt.  And it doesn’t look to get another better.  I’m trying to figure out how I’ll look back on  this year and what I can learn from it (besides boys actually don’t like sassy girls, no matter what they tell you, they like girls who read and watch Twilight – again can I scream ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?) and I’m  not sure there is anything. 

I guess that’s life – sometimes the years are good and sometimes the years thrust you in the lowest of the low but every once in a while years can just be forgettable.  And I think that is what 2011 will be for me:  forgettable. 

2011 is the year I lost two people very important to me; one out of absolute necessity for my health and well-being and another for a reason yet to be determined.   And in both cases, I was the one who was hurt the most.  I was, again¸ left dealing with the aftermath while the other was able to continue to coast on in life, not worried that they just hurt someone they claim to care so deeply for. 

How many times can one person go through that without something inside shutting down?  I’m really trying very hard not to but my resistance is getting weaker and weaker.

I haven’t talked to JB in over a week and I haven’t seen him in over a month.  And for someone who called me their best friend, who told me how important I was to him, who said he cared very deeply for me, this is tough.   But as I learned with the Justice, it doesn’t matter what the words are, it’s the actions that count and JB’s actions are matching up with his words. 

SOMEONE please throw something good my way in 2012?

Yet this weekend as I crossed the finish line to complete those 13.1 miles, tears of happiness streamed down my face.   The past 12 weeks had been brutal on my body; I pushed it past limits I didn’t think I could.  My body got stronger, my thighs slimmer and my mind received more free therapy from spending hours outside than any shrink could provide.

While it’s no small feat, I am not the first person to run a half-marathon and I won’t be the last.  But this weekend was an especially satisfying time to help close out an otherwise mediocre year.   I wanted to feel like I accomplished something this year; I wanted to find emotional fulfillment in something other than relationships and career.  I wanted to do something where I could guarantee all the time, effort and hard work would pay off in the end.

Most importantly, I wanted to find something that would let me to prove to myself that I am so much more than the boxes people may put me in.  In those 13.1 miles, I felt the baggage of my relationship with Mr. Selfish fall off, the emotional crash of my relationship with the Justice fade away and the dead weight of both men I carried the last few years disappear.   It was exhilarating.

The past 12 weeks taught me more about myself than this entire year.  Whatever the next challenge life throws at me, physically or emotionally, I know my mind and body are strong enough to handle it.

“Do or do not.  There is no ‘try’”

Maybe it’s me.  Maybe my whole “I just want you to be nice to me, don’t lie to me and be there when I need it and in exchange I’ll be laid back, relaxed and promise all wonderful things” approach is wrong.  Maybe if I was high maintenance, had no opinion and wasn’t interesting it would be easier for me.

But the thing is, even men I’m only friends are turning out to be just as undependable as the men I’ve dated.

JB has fallen off the planet; which I understand happens when you get into a new relationship but it’s different with this girl.   During this last two relationships, we still talked regularly, we still saw each other at least once a week and he was still someone I could depend on.  But with this new girlfriend, it appears things have changed drastically and I’m not sure I can stand for it much longer.

I haven’t seen him in two weeks.  Text messages go unanswered.  I have no idea what is going on in his life.

Maybe he knows that he can’t control himself when he’s around me and he needs some distance to make this new relationship work.  That’s fine but it’s unfair to me and I’m not going to stand for it.  Just because he can’t get his feelings for me under control shouldn’t mean that we can’t be close still.   But if he thinks that we can’t and it doesn’t work out with this one, I won’t be around.   I will not ever again be treating like the rag doll that was tossed aside when someone else comes along a la the Justice.

JB knows that I can be unforgiving after a break-up; I will spend the rest of my life proving the Justice right when he told me he doesn’t believe we will never speak or see each other ever again.  When Mr. Selfish told me he hoped one day we could be good friends and I promised we never would, I’m still holding on to that promise two and half years later.  And we almost married.   If I only wanted to be friends with them, I would have never dated them.  And since I’m not dating either of them, why would I ever want to be friends with them?

It’s sort of the same thing with JB.  If he thinks that we have a friendship where I’ll just be around when he feels like having me in his life, he’s wrong.   And if or when it doesn’t work out with this girl, he can’t just pick up the phone and tell me “let’s be close again.”  It doesn’t work that way.   And he’s going to know that very soon.

Maybe being this ruthless is harsh but it’s the only way I know how to protect myself.  I’ve been through too many hurt to let myself keep falling down the same trap.

I care very deeply for you.  You’re one of the most important people in my life and I would do anything for you.

Three men have told me that in my life.   But when it came down to it, the actions of two of them didn’t match up with those words.  I never thought I would have to include JB in that list and it almost breaks my heart that I may.

What is it about that makes men feel like I’m disposable?  I don’t do things that would suggest that so why has every man I’ve deeply cared about feel like they can treat me as much?

I’m getting to the point where I think it may be better to shut men out emotionally.   I don’t feel anything every time Kansas and I sleep together so obviously I’m capable of removing feelings entirely.

The ice queen cometh.