It's been a while since I've posted and a TON has happened. This of course left me overwhelmed on where to begin with my fabulously awesome life. So, like any story, I'll pick up where I left off, even though that is extremely difficult to do because I have some great stories from my trip to NASHVILLE...but I will refrain.
The last time I posted a story I mentioned that I hadn't really been dating because I was enjoying spending time with JD, the guy I gave a second chance. Things were going well and I was glad I had given him a another shot but of course, this blew up in my face. I learned my lesson and I should have trusted my gut to begin with.
I realized that while I was having a good time with JD, something was off. He was fun to be around but conversations with him seemed more like an interview than a normal conversation. Chocking it up to the fact that he's a litigator, I spent date after date being interrogated by him before realizing I had given the man my entire life story without learning much in return (and not for want of trying).
Even though we had the "I'm only dating you" conversation, I became wary when JD had his son for 3 weekends in a row. He claimed that there was a mix up in his parenting schedule, but I'm no moron. I don't know who he has dated before, but barely texting, browsing Plenty of Fish and keeping me as a Sunday night date just didn't add up. We finally had plans for a Friday night until the last minute when he "realized he had his son". Either he has the most fickle co-parenting arrangement on Earth or he was full of crap. In my last text to him I surrendered. I told him that he was too difficult to try to make plans and to text me if he wanted to see me again. Crickets.
I wasn't broken hearted but I was annoyed that he had wasted my time...and calories, as we had some pretty greasy food together. Maybe I felt the "douche" vibe on our first date and ignored it at the prospect of him proving me wrong. From now I'll work harder at trusting my gut, which told me that JD was a bad idea. I need a real man, you know, one who will call or text me, make weekend plans and not use baby wipes to clean his ass at the age of 38 (true story!).