A Little Left of Lost

If you are looking for my sweet side today, you will need to just go look in my archives. Just go over there ----------->.
I am just DONE. Like, DONE. I'm over the stress, over the bullshit, over the LIVING LIFE ON HOLD.  I'm done putting myself out there.
It's easy to get prettied up and go out. Easy to smile, laugh, chit-chat about meaningless things. (Fairly) easy to allow a man to buy me a drink. (Fairly) easy to do a little bit of flirty touching on his arm. But from that point on, it gets hard. And that's the shit I'm done with. Because it never ends well. It ends one of two ways: either he gets hurt, or I do.
Take this past weekend:

I'm somewhere with a bunch of people I don't know, and a few I have hung out with a couple of times. Apparently it is a known thing with this group that I am single, and these stupid men think it's funny to make it a game. So three men are wanting to buy me drinks. Yes, yes, I know someone is saying "Holy shit! Why are you complaining about that??" to which I respond: BAH. Because honestly, I can't help but have this internal conversation with myself:

"Man #1 is a total player. Hot, but omg, how the hell could I ever trust a man like that??"

"You do not need to trust him, dumbass. Just have fun!"

"Oh, ha. We are talking about ME here. I DO need to trust him. I'm not here just to have drinks and play. Ultimately, I want something long-term. I am NOT the player type. You know this."

"Oh, and Man #2 is f-ing annoying. Not attractive. Why are you so nice? Get some damn balls and stand up for yourself."

"Dude. Shut it. Man #3...."

"Um, no. Just, no. THAT MAN is the heartbreaker.Run."

I exhaust myself.

Anyway, so Man #2 will NOT take no for an answer when I say he does not need to buy me drinks. And he's a smoker, so as the night continues, he's leaning into my face and I just can't handle it. At the end of the night, he's trying to kiss my neck and tells me that if I'm interested I should meet him outside the bar. Um, NO. (I'm getting the chills just typing this. Ick ick ick!!!)

So why the fuck should I bother at all with Man #2? I mean, he probably expects something after buying me drinks, and I'm a nice woman, so I talked to him, but there was NO SPARK there AT ALL for me.

Man #1 dances his ass off, playfully flirts, but I already shut him down last time we were out. I don't want the man who knows he is hot shit, and hits on every gorgeous woman he meets. Would he be fun to play with?? Oh yes, I'm sure of it. The way he moves on the dance floor....mmmm. ANYWAY.

It's Man #3 that had me in tears driving home. Motherfucker. He's the one I want to run to and away from. Haven't known him long, but we seemed to be on the same page about so many things. Went on a few dates. Awesome conversations, drunk and sober. A shit-ton of similar interests. And then he smacks me in the face after 4 dates with a motherfucking text (DUDE) that he isn't ready for anything serious and thinks I'm nice and a great person (Fuck you) and JUST WANTS TO BE FRIENDS. To which I say: BAH.

Because see, that would be totally fine if not for:

- We had the 'serious' conversation. We both allegedly felt the same:Not looking for serious but don't want to play, need a healthy balance; and don't need to waste time on people who really wouldn't be right in the long-run.

-It was HE who asked ME out on the 4 dates. It was HE who made comments about doing things together this summer. It was HE who approached me.

-And lastly, if he really wanted to be friends, the above text would not have been the last text from him. I didn't hear another motherfucking thing. Nada.

And then he's there this weekend. And he says maybe 25 words to me all night. And is within feet of me all night, and says not a word. AND, this is the icing that takes the cake: He lets his friend talk shitty to me. I stood up for myself, but he just watched it go down.

Motherfucker.

So. I'm done. I'm out. I'm over it all. I don't want to put myself out there, put my guard down, get interested, get hurt. 2010 was one of the worst damn years of my life, and it hurt, over and over and over. And in the wee hours of the morning after the shittiest night out in a really long time, I sat in tears, and I will be DAMNED if I'm doing that anymore.

Nope.

And I want to gut-punch myself for even bothering. For even thinking that I'm being rational about this. For thinking that I really can't be that person who plays with no real feelings. I need to become that person. I need to be the woman who can flirt, play, date, etc., without getting emotionally involved. And while I cringe about becoming that person, I think about my emotions being tangled and trampled, and I ache.

I can't ache anymore.