That time I was crazy…

…there’s just the one time. And, I will NOT be accepting any comments from any exes, LOL. 

So, I’ve already confessed that the last major guy ended our psycho relationship-type thing. No surprises. No worries. It needed to end, and I was too blinded by love or something like it to pull the trigger. I appreciate him for setting us free. 

But…

But, it was done so shady and unexpected that I became absolutely crazy. Like broken hearted, and angry, crazy. It wasnt a good look. 

When he blocked me from Facebook. Yep, dude blocked me from Facebook even though I’d never posted on his page, linked anything to him, or even chose an emotion other than like on one of his posts. Really, dude?

 <insert profanity and name calling>

That’s cool. You think I’m that type of girl after all this time? Wow? Really?

Wait. Maybe I’m so vain, I just think this is about me. Maybe it’s not what I’m capable of. Maybe it’s what you’re capable of. Maybe you’re blasting me all over your FB. Maybe you’re finally able to post pictures of the girl you were running back and forth too. Maybe you did SOMETHING! 

I don’t know. Blind rage. Blind passion. Blind everything. 

And, it steered the ship right into insanity. I jumped on FB and created a profile with one of my other email addresses, using my old alter ego from ’99. I knew she would come in handy again. I accepted every friend request I got, and I sent him one after I’d built up a good following. I never friended any of my real friends because I was terrified they’d see right through me. I used the first and last name I’d given every bogus dude  from ’99 to motherhood, claimed one of my old jobs, and a combination of my brother and sister’s birthdays. It wasn’t perfect, but it was enough to hide behind. I was proud of how ridiculous I was being. 

And then, I topped off my wine glass for the third time. 

I kept that page for a few weeks. I checked it every couple of days, faithfully. I was just waiting for him to post something disrespectful. But, what was I gonna do??? Would I post, “Ah ha!”? Would I “like” it with the angry face? No. I couldn’t out myself as being as crazy as I was behaving. I had to let go. I had to stop. And, I met someone that third week that started to occupy all my stalking time. 

I closed the FB window. I let go of all the fake friends I’d accumulated, and I decided to never be that crazy again. Low levels of crazy are okay, though. 

Then, I was outed. 

Because, I LOVE my blog. I. LOVE. MY. BLOG. This is my truth. It’s therapy. It helps me process all the relationship things swimming around in my head. It typically keeps me from being THAT crazy.

And because my ego is attached to my viewership, I have my blog set to auto-post to my social media accounts. Genius, right? Only when you don’t have a secondary, and fake, FB account that it automatically picks up. My blog has been auto posting to my fake FB for months. And, I haven’t noticed until now. 

I wondered why it stopped auto posting. Was getting really upset about it. I’d even reached out to the team at WordPress. Then, people smarter than me realized it was auto posting, just as it was supposed too, to my other account. OMG! I could have died, but instead I killed over in laughter. That’s exactly what I deserved!

Every blog I had written posted to my fake account, but nothing else. I hadn’t even logged on in months. Nothing screams it’s me better than a profile full of only my blog links, LMAO!

After going through the remember my password options on FB, I found my fake self, laughed again, and put her to bed. Done. 

My ego isn’t totally intact, but who cares. That was hilarious!

What if I get everything I ever wanted?


I really like this guy, and I’m not sure I’m ready. I feel overwhelmed, because I might just be getting everything I wanted. 

Why is this so scary?

Maybe it’s because this is usually when it all falls apart. The moment that I let my guard down, they usually doop me.  And, I’m stuck with a broken heart and wounded ego. 

What if this time is different, though? What if this is the last time? What if I fall in love? 

Love let me down the last time. 

I don’t know. I’m trying, and he seems to be trying. 

It’s just that…I’m terrified. 

Sorry I went to the movies with your boyfriend, ma’am. 

Aren’t I too old to be questioned about whether or not I’m out with someone’s boyfriend?

Am I not? We’re still playing these games well into our 30s?

I was sure I’d grown out of this phase. 

Obviously not. 

Blaise and I agreed to go see Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. Wanted to have a double movie day last week when we saw Doctor Strange, but some ridiculousness at Chili’s halted those plans. So we were trying again. 

Last time I mentioned it to my friend, just friend because I’m not rushing anything, and he wanted to see Doctor Strange, too. He went with us, tagged along. He and Blaise had all the superhero conversations after the movie. I checked my email and Instagram feed. It worked. I didn’t have to fake understanding anything to be outed afterwards by Blaise. He had a pal who understood all the superhero stuff and was equally impressed by the technology.

We decided to go see the second movie this week. Made plans last week, and invited him again. Nothing romantic. Nothing heavy. It’s a movie. 

We met at the theater. Stood in line. I paid for mine and B’s tickets before he offered. We got to the theater and sat where I could put my feet on the railing. We watched the movie with little chatter, held hands a couple times, and that was it. 

So after the movie, we said our goodbyes. It was casual no need for the long walk out, hand holding, and awkward stares. Goodbye consisted of a quick hug and a half wave. He had errands to run, and so did I. Nothing more.

We left the building separately. Blaise needed to tie his shoe, and I was digging my keys and phone out of my oversized bag. Blaise and I talked all the way to the car. He likes to go over the movie again. He’s really animated, and I typically just focus on him. I didn’t notice the car slowly pull into our lane. I didn’t immediately see that it stopped directly behind him in his parking space. Thank God we didn’t ride together. Someone jumped out and approached his car. It was too tight for me to pull out of my space, so I watched from my rearview mirror hoping they would wrap it up quickly. It was a woman. She seemed to be upset and proceeded to question him. Announced he was her boyfriend. Backed up enough to let him leave, and followed him out of the parking lot. Thank God we didn’t walk out together. Who knows what she was capable of and how long she had been there. 

He played defense almost immediately. He text me and called her a stalker. Claimed she was crazy. Swore that he had broken things off months ago. Ummm…okay. I hear you. That’s what you’re supposed to say, though. 

It wasn’t really a date. It was friendly. It was casual. Two separate cars. A movie outing. My son was with me. We were seeing a movie my kid had picked. This guy, her boyfriend, was on our outing. He was tagging along. 

And, now there’s another guy that I have to tell Blaise has died. 

Side note: I hate when I let my guard down enough to introduce someone to my son, and they turn out to be a jerk. 

Love v. Like

I was with Blaise the other day. We were out running errands and chatting. We have our most impactful conversations in the car. And, he asked about a guy I’d dated. Wondered how he was. I didn’t know. It’s been too long. The lines of communication are burned to the ground. That relationship is done. 

He asked, “don’t you love him?”

“Yes,” I said. “But, I don’t always like him very much.”

“Wait. Aren’t they the same things?” He asked. 

And, I spent the next 20 minutes answering his question. 

Paraphrased:

When you truly love someone, it’s unconditional. You will love them through anything. You will love them for the rest of your life. There’s nothing that will change that. 

But, “like” is a fickle beast. You can fall in and out of “like” multiple times in a moment for multiple different reasons. There’s no loyalty to “like.” Because it’s typically based on behavior. Maybe I liked or didn’t like something said or done. 

I love him. I loved him to dangerous levels, at times. My love never changed or faded, but I didn’t often like him. 

“Huh?” Blaise didn’t really get it. I’d gone too far into love’s regrets to capture the point for my 11 year old son.  

Again, another way. “I always love you. You are my whole heart.”

“Yep, I know mom.”

“But when you leave pee on the toilet seat, I don’t like you very much.”

“Oh. I get it. Sorry, mom.”

I just laid my heart out on the dash board of this car for a story better told with pee. 

Go figure. 

Disclaimer: Forgive me. I’ve probably written a similar post before, but this is my life. 

If you REALLY need me. 

“If you really need me…” is my new least favorite saying in the world. Congratulations! 

It’s kinda bogus. It’s full of the best intent, though…similar to the road to hell. 

It could be just what people say to justify not coming through for you when you needed them, but they determined you didn’t really need them. SMH

I have a list of emergency contacts a mile long. You can call my mom, dad, sister in Dallas, or brother in LA. You could call my grandma. She can’t come herself, but she has a hotline to the whole clan. You can all my Auntie or uncle, or other uncle, or other aunt, or other aunt, or other aunts on my mom or dad’s sides. You could call my cousins, local and long distance. They would come, if I really need them. That’s how we were raised. Maybe not all of them, but enough to handle the situation. You could call a host of friends and a handful of exes. You could randomly pick from my contact list, and they would probably be there for me, if I really need them. 

I have emergency contacts. I’m good on that. 

I’m looking for people I can reach out to, if I only kinda need them. I want to call you just because. I want people that are ready at the drop of a hat. People that will come out whether I need them, really need them, or want them. 

I want the person who will come over and watch weekly TV because it’s our thing. I want the person who I can call on because I found something hilariously funny, incredibly sad, or just worth sharing. I want the person who shows up because they wanted to show up, or because they wanted to see me, or because they need me, but not necessarily really need me. I want there to be no real reason. I want there to be no real intent. I want just because. 

Disclaimer: No shade to the man that I was exchanging these text messages with. I believe he meant those words with 100% sincerity. And despite the messages in between, I bet he would show up if I really need him. That’s just not the relationship I’m looking for.