Dating in 2018 for a kitten

First of all, I’m really happy being single. I’m happy. I’m… stable.

I’m stable.

Don’t laugh. It’s true. It’s been a long time coming. It’s been YEARS!!!

I don’t want to do anything that will upset this delicate balance. I enjoy my freedom. I like not answering to anyone about time or space or future.

I won’t be marrying again. I won’t share finances or home again. The most I’m willing to allocate to another person is “let’s hang out.”

Delving a bit deeper, as it stands now, I love big. My love is permanent. It may morph with time but once love is present, it just is. I love my friends, my family, my life. I currently do not have the capability or capacity to be in love. I just don’t. Every time I think of the vulnerability it takes to let someone in and the risk involved in understanding that eventually I’ll have to hurt and mend all over again, I just can’t.

The most I’m willing to risk at this point is time. There’s a Sam Hunt song in here somewhere.

I can spend time with someone. Companionship. Friendship. Intimacy. But I don’t want to be yours. I don’t want “mine” scribbled in blood across my skin. I don’t want to fluid bond or wear a collar or talk of a future. I don’t want you to come to Thanksgiving.

Isn’t that horribly selfish?

And so with all these limitations that make me comfortable, I’ve started dating.

This is my blog and I’m going to be honest with myself if I can…

Part of the reason I’m dating again is that Bug is dating again. We are incompatible on nearly every level. And yet a part of me waited “just in case”. Even after I signed papers, I waited. We would have made each other miserable, I know this. But a 20 year connection is hard to sever.

I need a kinky dating site that allows me to choose any gender or orientation because I’m attracted to people, not genitalia. I need to exist in the world and meet someone who is just into me.

I went on a date right after my breakup. The guy was fine, a bit of a cis but nothing too horrible. But I just… ehh. So I waited a while. Contacted my ex, and then blocked him, unblocked him and sent risqué photos. I know. I know.

So then I went on a date with The Matador. Please perk up for this bit of the story because oh my damn. We meet on POF, move over to KIK. We chat for a while and decide late one night to meet the next morning at Waffle House. I get up, take a shower, put cute clothes on, and put make up on to go to the fucking Waffle House. I get there with one minute to spare. Yes, folks. I was on time. I glance at my phone and he’s said good morning, and when I didn’t respond, said that he just wasn’t getting out of bed until I contacted him. … so I’m standing in the middle of the coffee shop saying hi where are you we agreed to meet wtf? He finally arrives and we chat. He asks me if I ever frequented a local tavern. No I don’t drink in bars, I don’t smoke, I have emphysema, don’t do drugs. So bars are really not my thing. “I guess when you phrase it that way, I’m a bit boring.” And his response was “The important question is do you swallow?”… yep. On a first date. At Waffle House. At 8:30 in the morning.

Sigh.

So we keep talking and I ask him why is Avatar/username is The Matador. Is he the patriarch of his family, of Spanish decent???

Guys, it’s his wraslin’ name.

I deactivated my POF.

So then I met a guy on Fet. He wasn’t looking to date me. He just wanted to ask about kittens and littles and kink in general. We had extensive discussions. Eventually the generalization discussions turned personal (for those taking notes, this is how you do it) and it was decided that we would meet. We both agreed this was unexpected but welcome. During our date he reached over and held my hand. I can’t remember the last time a man touched me with innocence and intention. It was soft and sweet. He was drawing circles in my palm with his fingertips when he casually mentioned his babygirl. I am not poly and untangled my fingers from his. We have had a couple of long conversations about poly and dating. If he is in town, we’d have dinner but as I’m only okay with hanging out and I’m not poly, he and I are friends with potential for intimacy but not emotion. Honestly that’s all I’m looking for so I’m looking forward to his next visit.

I activated my POF again.

This is why I hate dating. The bar is really low, guys. I have such minimal expectations. Just don’t be a dick, ya know? And yet, it’s completely unmanageable.

Exhibit A:

I mean…. I just. I am speechless. But I got this or a variation of this message over and over and over.

The first guy that actually said hi how are you I read your profile blah blah blah, we decided to meet for lunch. He’s completely vanilla and I attempted to explain my kitten from scratch. As in “This is BDSM. Let me tell you about spankings and pet play. ” He’s a nice guy, but …. I fear we are incompatible.

Sigh.

My daughter suggested I attempt to date women. Hahaha. Have you seen me flirt with women? It’s very elementary. Then we start talking about whatever the thing was that interested me and voila I have a coffee buddy/ great friend. 😕

I’m also going to point out that this is a lot to accept. I’m a single mom. They come first. Always and forever. You will be 4th in line. I do not need help or advice or constructive criticism for my parenting. I’m a cancer patient. I will always be a cancer patient. There is a constant stream of cancer, cancer jokes, dying and death, recovery and hope in my life. I am complex and complicated. I’m fat, I only have the one fabulous boob. I’m not sorry.

Sooooooooo

I really need a kinky person to just say “I’m going to take you out, we will hang, have conversation, maybe some hanky panky, don’t worry about your boob or your weight, then I’ll drop you back off at home and text you later this week to see if you’re busy again soon”.

Wouldn’t that just be great?

Because clearly my picker is broken.

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