the actual love of my life

I'm not really sure how my Sultry Singer hasn't yet come up in this blog. He has, afterall, been in my life now for... 8 years?

The really quick background: (this is going to be incredible difficult because similar to Ryan, our relationship has been incredibly frustrating and complicated) When I was a sophomore in high school and a measily 15 years old I began dating Jon. He was in a local band, I fell into the local band scene, hung out with all the local band guys, was around a lot of older guys, doing things that were way beyond my maturity level, seeing things I shouldn't be seeing but totally being accepted by the coolest (or so I thought) people in my city. It was great. I went on tours with the bands (a few were picked up by Universal). I was always backstage at the hottest concerts (my friends were very jealous). I snuck out on school nights to smoke and drink and sit on porches and play acoustic sing a longs for hours. I lied to my parents during the summers about where I was going for 3 days, 5 days, 10 days. I'd go camping with them, I'd go to different states for shows. It was my own version of Almost Famous.

So Jon was just Jon and he was my boyfriend but we were on and off for the 2nd year of our relationship and I started seeing the guitarist of the HOTTEST and most popular of the local bands (one that was picked up by Universal). I think I fell for the guitarist because I knew he was into me and I knew I could get even more in with their crowd (I was already really close to them) but truth was and I've since come to accept this, I feel for Jake because I was head over heels in love with the lead singer... he shall be called my Sultry Singer.

He's incredible. Always has been, always will be. I had heard things here and there about him having an innocent crush on me, but come on when I'm 15 and he's 21 and I'm in high school pretending to be a rocker band girlfriend and he actually IS a badass rock guy... innocent crushes won't get you too far.

So my love for him went fairly unrecognized (except by Jon, of course... he picked up on that right away and has yet to forgive me).

On one of our camping trips I made out with SS... it was out of a fucking movie. I had gone along on the trip with Jake's but as usual he was drunk and passed out in the tent by like 8pm (later fixed that problem in rehab). SS and I drifted away from the camp site after far too many joints and a lot of alcohol and sat on the most beautiful beach looking over a perfectly still lake that was of course, like a movie, lit up by a full moon and we talked... for hours and hours and hours. I should have figured out that night that he actually cared about me more than I thought, but I didn't figure that out until last year. On our walk back from the beach we were high and drunk and spinning around in this little clearing, I kid you not, literally spinning around laughing like stoned hippies and we came together and made out under a full moon. I then crawled into the tent with Jake and have still never stopped dreaming about SS.

That was 7 years ago probably. Since then a lot has happend. I've beaten an eating disorder, experienced the death of my brother, encountered endless family problems, a pretty serious drug habit and the list goes on. One person who has always inexplicably been there for me? SS. No one really knew how close we stayed over the years. He moved around the country with the band. I went to college. But we always came home for holidays, summers, random weekends here and there, and occasionally we saw each other. But even when we didn't see each other for months, we always were in touch.

I know this is a silly, cliche thing to say, but SS understands me more than any other guy I've met. More than Zach or Todd or any of my serious boyfriends. He's called me out on all the random things that I thought I kept hidden pretty well - how I feel about relationships and what I need - little things that I've finally figured out about myself, he'll bring up and I just think "how did you know that?" He nails everything about me right on the head.

And every time we are together, we have the most intense and just perfect days. THe last time I saw him was Christmas '08. We had breakfast a tiny harbor on the coast and walked along the beach for over an hour. We walked out onto a 1/4 mile long breakwater and just sat and talked about everything. Christmas '08 was when he came out and told me that he's basically felt the exact same things that I have... for the past 8 fucking years.

When we were younger he told me I reminded him of his first girlfriend. And the way he always said that I took it as such an insult like oh great, you hate her now so you'll nevercare about me. For 8 years I had held on to that one kiss of ours, and thought that would be my only memory of SS. A lot has happened since then.

To hear him say those things to me over Christmas, literally broke my heart.

It was like, for 8 years I've wanted ot hear these things, and now you tell me this? NOW when you live on the other fucking side of the country? NOW when you have a fucking girlfriend. WHY in the world would he tlel me these things when he has a girlfriend?



Anyways, we still talk every once in awhile. Normally saying ridiculous things about how I can't get him out of my mind or he'll say something like "you looked stunning last night, just thought you should know."



Today he texted me the following, I was responding the whole time but here are some of the good ones:

I had the longest and most vivid dream last night, about you

It's hard to explain, it was just a day. But I can't shake it

It was like our day in the harbor, but more.

This dream was so real, I feel like I was just with you.

It was so fun, I want another one.

Goodness, I want to see you

Will we ever be in the same city?

I hate that I've never been able to get over him. I feel like I never will. He talks about writing songs about me, and how he can't get my blue eyes out of his mind and how I always look beautiful when he sees me. He has the most contagious smile and the most incredible voice.

I don't even know anymore if he's my type. Like in an ideal world if he were single and in the same city as me, would I be able to date him? He always says that we would, but I don't know. Maybe after so many years of wanting to be with him, I've just grown to love the idea of him.

I don't think so though. I think he really is the love of my life, and will always be that damned bastard who got away.

At least there are a few songs out there that you may or may not hear, that welp, are about me.

i swear i would never

The new Executive Director / CEO / President, whaaatever his official title may be, is gorgeous.

Oh boy, oh no.

they all come crawling back

Okay, so this isn't exactly men crawling back to me, begging for me to take them back but, fuck it, it made me feel special (and secretly, drunkenly wanted by ex-boyfriends).

Zach, the high school into college boyfriend of 3 years, texted me Friday night and said:

You're pretty.

That was all. Nothing huge, nothing drastic. But because I know him oh so well and for years he has begged (literally, in the form of an 8 page handwritten love letter, begged) to get back together, I know that when he calls, or texts, or IMs, or facebooks, it's all bad news in the world of Zach. Poor kid really has never gotten over me. And I'm not just saying this. He's told me, many times. He's told me year after year that he's tried to get over me, and tried to date other people but alas, no one compares to yours truly.

It makes me feel terrible, poor kid. Secretly I love it. Hahaha, of course I do. I'm evil and love knowing that people are still hung up on me.

Okay so that's that. I asked him the next day if he knew he sent that, and he did the whole "uh, yea, I think" aka he was wasted but you know what they always say:
A drunk man's words are a sober man's thoughts.
Or at least I think that's how it goes, I don't know.

Also on Friday night, or Saturday morning however you'd like to see it, Ryan P sent me a(n) (obviously drunk) IM at 4:35am.

Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaake uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuup.

Oh really? So we can have the same lovely conversation that we had Tuesday night over drunk text messages where I (or you) say totally embarrassing completely insincere things? Oh I don't think so. See I wasn't drunk Friday night and I would never think of telling him those things when I'm sober. Partially to save my face, but more importantly because I really don't mean those things.

I don't really like Ryan P. But since he is unavailable, of course I occasionally dream. Again, I like the attention. Kill me. I like feeling desired. And truth is, sometimes you feel most desired when the attention is from another woman's man. Again, sue me... I'm a horrible person.

mistake number one through five thousand

Okay here goes... so last night, no Tuesday night - the "after work get together turned black out" night - I fucked up. I get it, I'm flawed, but even worse than that is the fact that I just don't learn from my mistakes! I'm a terrible drunk dialer. More often it's drunk texting, oh what has our generation become, but Tuesday night was a combination of the two.

And I cried. At the bar... to a stranger. What is wrong with me? I honestly think this is a sign of something worse than my drunkenness... like a sign that I need to see a therapist. STAT! I'll get to the crying later.

First, the drunk texts. Not only did I text the boy who I saw Saturday who had promised me he'd call later this week - hello? When a guy says he'll call later in the week it is FAR too early to accuse him of not calling on TUESDAY! Tuesday is not later this week. Whoops. I did. Poor Pete. And this isn't German lover boy, this is a few years older used to go to college good friends with my older sister and her friends Pete. This is blonde Pete. I never date blondes. This is sweet, kind, actually a good human being, likes to volunteer and is going to law school Pete. AND HE'S SINGLE! Finally, I'm not throwing myself into the arms (or towards the groin) of an unavailable man! Precious Pete!

So Saturday we hang out (not by ourselves, this was by pure chance) and get to talking and catching up a little, considering it's been two years since I've seen him.

UGH pause... my co-workers just asked me to join them in a "company lunch." Since when do we have lunch together? HELLO! I have more important things to do.. like blog about Pete, and Ryan, and fjdlkajfd be back in 30.

Ah surprisingly fun lunch.. okay, so Pete... we're drunk on Saturday, he seems excited that I'm living back in this city, asks for my number and promises he'll call later this week so we can get together! Fast forward to Tuesday night, I'm drunk again and fucking text the kid... I did so using a hint of sarcasm, I believe my text said: "Tuesday night and no call? Just kidding, but seriously you ought to call me this weekend so we can meet up!"

Idiot.

Luckily he doesn't seem too annoyed by my impatience and responds happily with "Aah you beat me to the punch. What are you doing Thursday? Should we get a drink? I'll call you tomorrow."

Wooohoooo so my drunk texting doesn't get me in too much trouble, just makes me look like a desperate (I am), impatient (I am), Tuesday night drunk... (I was).

Next idiot move... I scroll through my phonebook and land on Ryan P. Ryan P. (not asshole, drunk sex, ruined friendship Ryan) has expressed his legitimate love for me since 6th grade. I, being the kind of girl who really, truly, only wants what I can't have (which makes me worried about Pete, does this mean secretly I know I'll never have a chance?), strongly disliked little immature, annoying Ryan P. until... Christmas of last year. Naturally, although this man is no joke, the most beautiful man I have ever seen (think Tom Brady meets Rob Kardashian... he's a looker) I didn't necessarily take to him and his good looks until, well, he was unavailable. Christmas time came around and one of my girlfriends told us all that she and Ryan P. had been "talking a lot, like all semester" HELLO HE WAS IN AUSTRALIA!! (oh god, I'm such a hypocrite, this is exactly what I'm doing with German lover boy!!!!) Anyways, I knew better. Ryan P. talked, online, to anyone who would listen while he was in Australia... anyone. I ignored him for a solid 3 months... he's the kind of kid who will IM you and say "Hey" - you respond - he says "What's up?" and then there is silence... it's pointless.

So I know that this budding relationship with Ryan P. and my girlfriend is shit. She is just over excited and the first night we run into him at the bars he immediately dismisses her and informs her "ugh... it wasn't like that, I guess we weren't on the same page." She was slightly frustrated, but not heartbroken, and suddenly... I realize that Ryan P. may actually be desirable. Only now that I see there is competition, of course.

We chat occasionally during the spring, summer rolls around and I try, I mean... I really tryyyyy to like the kid. When we're out I engage (or attempt to) in conversation and there is just nothing. Nothing. The kid is like a brick wall. A really, really, nice looking brick wall. Okay so, the more and more I try, the more and more I think maybe if I just give in and make out with him you know, mayyyybe I’ll feel something.

The night that I finally go home with him just happened to be the night a kid from work was hanging all over me at the bar so maybe Ryan only likes what he can’t have too? Anywho… I go home with him and have a fucking BLAST! Like, a blast. We were literally rolling around in bed all night making out… like high school kids. We didn’t have sex. We didn’t (that I can remember) do anything, except make out. WHAT A RELIEF! What a great feeling. To wake up smiling next to an incredibly cute, and apparently kind, sweet in bed man. And I didn’t have to regret having unprotected, drunk sex, with a kid I didn’t even like talking to… like normal.

Then I find out he has a girlfriend.

Okay, honestly I found out like 2 days before we hooked up – I’m telling you, I really only like what I can’t have, damn it… But he completely denied they were “official.” What are you, actually still in 6^th grade? Your best friend calls her your girlfriend, your little sister calls her your girlfriend, your entire posse of best and closest lady friends call this girl your girlfriend. You’re official… you just don’t care enough right now to pass up a hook up with the girl you’ve loved since 6^th grade.

I liked the attention. I took it, kill me. Playing the home wrecker is not new to me. At least I didn’t sleep with him, right?

Then we hook up again. He is all of a sudden fun. We can talk freely and openly about everything, as if we’ve known each other forever… I guess we have, makes sense. And he is just fun! We laugh, we go out to breakfast the next day and sit on the outdoor patio of an adorable restaurant downtown and aaaaaah my heart is aching.

He’s another woman’s man. I’m the fling. Like always. Fuck.

He drove back to college (oh yea… he’s younger than me, eeeeeeeek) that same day and we have hardly talked since. He lives next door to his girlfriend, he obviously is with her and has far too many things to think about (girlfriend, girlfriend, girlfriend) to continue talking to me so he is suddenly out of my love life as quickly as he came into it.

Tuesday night? I text him: “Ryaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan.”

Hello drunky, mcdrunkster. As if that text isn't screaaaming I'm drunk and wish you were here to hook up with me. Welp, ladies and gents, that's pretty much what I explicitly state in the next texts. If my roommates weren't so nosy (and also my best friends who love to creep) and hadn't forced me to erase my inbox and outbox the following morning I would share with you the entire conversation that continued for about 2 hours...

It had a lot of me wiiiishing oh so much that I had told him my feelings long ago, and lots of me begging for him to come visit (whaaat?!!!) and pleaaading that we should try the "us" thing.

Who the hell am I and what was I thinking?! This is Ryan P... remember the brick wall? The kid who I couldn't even hold a 2 minute conversation with until I decided to make him my summer fling?

Embarrassing.

I apologized the next morning (via one very miserable text) and haven't heard from him. So! There's another one out the door.

What else did I do Tuesday night?

Oh yeah! ... I CRIED.

In the bar. To a stranger. In my defense, he was a doctor so was pretty damn good at playing the life coach therapist role... but I can't remove all fault from myself... I brought up the sob stories and the oh life is so tough talk...

That wasn't about guys at least. My brother died 4 years ago and it's still a hugely, unresolved issue but come on... keep it in private? I cried in a mother fucking bar... again.

I'm always that girl, for one reason or another.

Luckily this little sob fest happened with a stranger and I think my guy friends were all too drunk to notice.

Ich bin verliebt

I Googled that.

I don't know a single word of German. Do you blame me? It's not exactly the prettiest looking, or sounding language. Anyways, it's not like Pete knows any German either. And this is Pete, who claims he is actually good at picking up languages, who has lived in Germany for 9 months now. He doesn't know a thing. He certainly doesn't know Ich bin verliebt which I just learned means I'm in love.

And I know, I know, I'm not actually in love - I'm not pretending to be, or even trying to convince myself I am. Awww, he shall be called German Lover Boy.

This is lust at its best. Like the giddy, can't stop smiling when he sends me a message kind of lust. And sending messages is all we can do, after all, he is in Germany. BUT lucky me, this beautiful, tall, athletic, dark hair, big smile, Italian hunk is moving home TO AMERICA in 2 weeks. And his best friends just happen to live down the road from my new apartment. Oh isn't it wonderful how some things work themselves out?

So this brings me to a very important (must try and think about this one before I get myself all worked up over something that's just destined to crash and burn) point. I have a eh hem... tendency... long history, bad habit, of...

only wanting what I can't have.

Spare me the gasps and the rolling of the eyes. I get it, this is nothing new. It's actually so cliche that I'm a bit disappointed in myself. I should have come up with something new. Some bad habit that's all my own.

Well I didn't. I like the chase. I like the flirting and the lust and all the good stuff that comes before well, before I get whatever it is I thought I wanted. Play Train song in background: "In a world that what we want is only what we want until it's ours." Yea, yea, yea.

So I'm a little afraid that as soon as German lover boy over there across the pond comes home, and we hang out... well, I'll get over him. How presumptuous of me! Isn't it? I mean, that's assuming that this hunk of a man enjoys my company, wants to spend time with me, even likes me just a little bit. Whatever, I also have a tendency of thinking all these things will come true. I try and avoid calling this cocky or overconfident - because I'm far from either... and I don't like saying that I'm just being an optimist - because, well I'm most cynical.

I think it's best to give myself the least amount of credit here and say I'm just damn desperate, and obsessed with men. Since they are all I think about, boyfriend, dating, hooking up, husband - well I have to assume he's going to like me when he gets home. Otherwise that puts a quick end to my daydreaming...

And I still have 2 weeks to daydream about how perfect we could be :)

I will certainly keep you updated. We have a big date planned for when he arrives! Yes, I said it... a DATE. Like he asked me out on a date. Kind of, I mean we both talked about hanging out and agreed on it, but nooow the way he talks about it, it's like a date.

So go with me here, I never get asked out on dates. Again, I'm sure (I hope, I tell myself) it has nothing to do with me or my crazy basketcase-ness... it's just that no one goes on legit dates anymore. Not at my college and not at my age. Maybe later in my twenties the dating world will resurface. I hope?

meeting of the minds best friends' ex boyfriends?

On the eh... mode of public transportation unique to my city... this morning I ran into not one but TWO of my best friends' ex boyfriends. And these aren't just like oh the awkward blind date ex boyfriends or the raunchy one night stand kind of people. We're talking sigh, first loves. And first loves they were! Elena and Nick are ridiculously complicated, dated for like five or six years? And still have managed to sustain a high level of "it's complicated" even though they no longer speak let alone see each other. Well folks, I saw AND spoke to good old Nicky baby this morning and I have to admit, for probably the first time in my 10 years of knowing him... he looked good, real good. Then there's Jake. Lindsay's first love (from over 6 years ago) and still the man who makes guest appearances in her dreams, oh I don't know, multiple times a week. Scratch the 'guest appearance' comment - he legitimately stars in her dreams. She melts at the sound of his name. I don't blame her. Ivy League grad now attending Ivy League med school? Not bad.

Too bad both of these men have new girlfriends. Serious girlfriends at that. Which brings me to an impending conversation I must have with this trusted, honest blog: the man with the girlfriend, the unavailable man, the man who ALWAYS seems to be more attractive once he's taken.

Unfortunately for me, when this conversation does happen, I'll only have one word to describe myself: homewrecker. I can't help it. Well, of course I could help it if I wanted to help it. I could make the decision not to hook up with people with significant others. Alas my morals aren't that flawless and I have a long string of hook ups (and flings and lusts and afjdklasfjdaskl GOD I always fall hard) with the ones I can't have.

Much more about this later. I'm about to being a 4 hour training on web design. Funny.