Why would I want a friendship with my exes?

There is a sincere part of me that believes that if it didn’t end in absolute chaos, 911 calls, or extreme threats we should be friends. Seriously. If we spent that much time in each other’s lives, loving each other, building a friendship, shouldn’t we remain friendly?

So friendly, not necessarily friends. Is that too much to ask?

Yes. Yes, it definitely is. 

I had to have this conversation, lose this battle, and eat poorly seasoned crow on this one. 

I’m only speaking for myself. 

I have had this STRONG desire to maintain this “friendship” with an ex. It’s been ridiculous, at times. But, why? Why have I fought the new man, the ex, and myself for a friendship that’s not really worth it? Because I like to win, and I hate to lose. 

I like to win. 

I hate to lose. 

It’s that simple. 

I invested a lot in that relationship. I gave so much of myself, and I lost…technically. He and I didn’t work. It wasn’t a happily ever after situation. We didn’t sail off into the sunset, well not together. 

And, I was crushed. Not because we were a good fit. Nope. Not because we had both tried so hard. Nope. I was crushed, I am crushed, because I put forth so much energy and effort for nothing. 

I know. I know. It’s the journey and the lesson, but those aren’t tangible. 

I didn’t feel the love he spoke. I didn’t get the baby we wanted. I didn’t get anything but a handful of empty promises and some debilitating headaches. I lost. 

I know. I know. I dodged a major bullet. I avoided a life time of excuses, misunderstandings, and let downs. I know. I really do, but it’s hard to trade that for the tangible. 

So, I accepted “friendly”. I actually initiated it, and I even pushed for it. Because, it means I don’t walk away empty handed. 

I’m not proud of this. 

Am I still in love with this ex? Am I expecting us to work out?

No. Nah. Nope. Not even. 

It wasn’t a good relationship. He wasn’t good for me. I wasn’t right for him. It was toxic at points, and the high points are covered in sex. We weren’t good for each other. We weren’t in the same place. We don’t have the same set of values. Nothing worked. 

I don’t want to go back. I don’t think I could handle another run. I barely made it out the first time. 

I just don’t want to feel like it was all pointless. I don’t want to feel like a loser. I don’t want to have lost. 


What about the new guy? Am I willing to sacrifice the new hopeful situation for the old tragic guarantee?

No. Nah. Nope. Not even.

I guess not. But, I kinda do every time I hold out for the win, huh?

This is a classic reason, season, lifetime situation.  Was the relationship meant to last for a season or a lifetime? Or, was there just a reason to it? Am I going to sacrifice a reason relationship for a lifetime relationship? 

No. Nah. Nope. Not even. 

I have to force myself to take this loss. I have to let go of the ALL the different relationships I planned with this man before it cost me the real relationship I’m living with my man. Duh. 

That’s the real win. 

Cue DJ Khaled’s All I Do Is Win

What’s the plan?

What do you want? What are you looking for? What are you willing to do to get there?

Nothing else haphazard. 

Before I start any more relationship journeys, I need to know where this is headed. 

Point blank. Period. 

Everyone has a general plan. We all have an end game. It may not be easily satisfied or obtained, but it exists. 

Name it. 

Because I want forever. I want commitment and love, in natural progression. 

We are still figuring it out. 

How are we gonna survive in each other’s lives? How will we appreciate each other? How will we both win?

It’s more than just casual. We are figuring it out. 

My struggle is that just because I got a lot of things I didn’t know I wanted, doesn’t mean I have to ignore all the things that were important to me that I didn’t get. 

I have this man who supplies me with incredible attention. He’s considerate. He’s kind. He’s totally engaged in the success of our relationship. 

But, we still struggle with communication. We’re still figuring it out. I shut down when things are rough. I’m currently shut down. And, I know it isn’t productive. I know it breeds confusion. But, I don’t want to create chaos with a highly emotional response. 

This is a relationship. It’s all highly emotional, right?

He’s stuck trying to figure me out. He’s deciphering my mixed signals. I’m deciding if this is the other shoe. Should I just cut and run? Sheesh. We can be so exhausting. 

His struggle is probably that he was totally single before me, my kid, and our dog busted into his life. He isn’t used to being this considerate of this many extra people. He’s figuring out how to live amongst us. How to love me? How to befriend my son? How to win over the dog? How to not get lost in the madness he didn’t realize he was signing up for. 

“Ok get ya kids, but then they got their friends. I pulled up in the Benz. They all got up in.” – Kanye West

And, I knew what I wanted. I had a mental list. There are so many boxes left unchecked that weren’t as important as I’d thought. But, there are some serious boxes that must get checked for me to be happy…for us all to function. 

The honeymoon is over, and we are still going. We’re still working. We are still figuring this shit out. I didn’t run away. And, I didn’t run back to the past. I think this guy might be the one. 

Side note: I had to change the title of this. I wrote on it for weeks, and I couldn’t get the message right. Then I changed directions. It organically told the story I was trying to tell when I stopped beating my head against a brick wall. 

Instructions on dating. 

I’ve been seeing someone, but we hit some rocky patches this summer. We dialed it way back, and now we’re dating each other. Trying to fix what’s broken. And, I’m dating  a healthy handful of other people too. This is good for me. Commitment and love don’t really work in this phase of my life. I need to see and be seen for a while. 

I went on the driest date of all. Mini date, coffee and conversation. Nice first step. Let’s break the ice. Let’s try something. Cool. 

Not cool. 

When you invite someone for coffee and conversation, you should be prepared to pay for the coffee and participate in conversation. IJS. 

1. Be prepared to pay, if you invited me. 

Because, I expect the person who asked to pay. 

I have my own funds, because I see everyone didn’t learn that. But, it says a lot about a man who A. didn’t meet me online and already knows what he’s getting himself into, B. isn’t broke AF, and C. has some manners. In his defense he offered to pay, but he used the phrase, “do you want me to get that?” Really?! I responded, “nah bro, I got it.” I literally said “bro” or more like “brah” in an attempt to show him this date just died. Then I pulled out my frequent coffee card and started this madness.

2. Conversation!!! 

Why don’t you, grown man, know how to have a conversation? Why don’t grown people know how to carry on a conversation? Why is this hard? It’s a tennis match. I say something, and then you say something. Nope. Silence. 

Then I took out my phone, checked Instagram, sent a text, and faked an emergency situation I had to leave for. Snatched up my coffee and my bag, and I was out. He was still asking questions in the back ground. This was super dry! You asking questions about where I was going, what I just said, and to please hit you up later was more than you’d mustered in the 5-10 minutes we’d been sitting there. 

It was only 5-10 minutes? Geez, it felt longer…much longer. 

3. What do you want? The reason why I’m still playing the field is because the boys on the field aren’t sure what they are playing for. 

Huh? What do you want, sir? 

The first guy, had me. I was his. We were trying the committed thing. He was hinting at loving me. I was feeling all the feelings. We were good. Until he started letting his actions and his words do drastically different things. Then when he was questioned, he was too tough to just apologize and put things back on track. He was too hard to be vunerable. So I left. I packed up my emotions and fled the scene. And, he realized that wasn’t the outcome he wanted. He realized he wanted me. He wanted this. He wanted to live the life we were in route too. 

Because you always want what you can’t have…human nature. 

I’m not ready to take him back the way we were before. I can’t keep investing with no return. Nope. Not me. Not again. So, I’m playing the field. I know exactly what I want, but I’m not giving it away for compliments and dinners. Work for me. 

Long distant relationships. 

Why are these so complicated? 

Living in a small town, it can be hard to find love after your 20s. Most of the good guys have already dated me or my friends, have babies with an old high school nemesis, or have too much of their business out there to be worth the trouble. It’s not easy. 

So, I’ve done the online thing somewhat successfully. I’ve dated the former small town guy who moved away. I’ve held on to romances from my times living in other places. And, I’ve met great guys on my travels. 

But if they don’t live up the street and around the corner, it just doesn’t seem to work out. Ugh! Long distant relationships are hard, I know. But, they can be really rewarding. Right?

I’ve said it before, and it hasn’t changed much. I am busy. I have a lot on my plate. I’m juggling quite a few things most of the time. Quality time will always be more important than the quantity of time with me. Don’t get me wrong, I’d love to see my guy all of the time. It’s just not feasible. We both work. We both are busy. We both need friend time, family time, and alone time. 3-4 days out of 7 can be a tall order and overwhelming. 

This is the perfect gig for me right now. I can keep my space, you keep yours. I get to manage my chaos without trying to fit you in, you too. Then our time is our time. We focus on each other, and to hell with the outside world…except for our kids. And, we don’t have to figure anything else out unless we end up at the alter. 

I know this won’t work forever. I get that. I’m banking on that, too. I don’t know what forever looks like. I’m open to relocating. I’m open to new adventures. But right now, I’m working on my current plan. And, I want you to fit into it, but not drastically change it. If that’s possible…and fair. 

My relationships don’t have to be long distant,  but I’m okay if they are. I’m fine trying the distance thing with schedule planning, long weekends, and open communication. 

So, I started this with a question. Why are long distance relationships so complicated? And, I don’t see ALL the struggles. So, I went to some of the guys from my past and asked, and the results were kinda expected. 

1. Sex. 

How can a sexual appetite be satisfied miles and hours away? Especially when the expectation is to stay faithful. I get that. I’m not talking about being away at war or states and states apart. I’m talking about a day’s drive. One guy was from here to Houston. That was hard. Not impossible, but it wasn’t ultimately worth it for either of us. I’m really talking about 3 hours maximum, one way. That may not get you any quickies, but it’s definitely a day trip with benefits. 

2. I wanted to see you more. 

I understand, but our time spent together was amazing. And, we intentionally did that because our time was so precious. That has to count for something. 

3. It didn’t seem like you were making real plans to ever fix the distance. 

That’s true. I’m not, right now. But if this progresses to something solid, we can figure it out. I’m open to making sacrifices for love. 

Because I moved my whole life a few years ago, and it blew up. It was hard on all involved, and I about broke in half because of it. I can’t do that again. I have to be sure that the moves I make are the right moves. I’m dragging my kid along. We have to be sure. 

I don’t feel like I’ve accomplished anything more than pled my case. I don’t like the distance, but I don’t mind it. I’m still at a point in my life where I’m open to an adventure. 

I don’t like anyone. 

I don’t think I genuinely like the new guy. I don’t think that my feelings match his. I’m not ready. I’m not really into this. I said I wanted more than I actually want. Don’t be mad. 

I’m totally disappointed in the old guy. He hurt me for sport. 

I’m ready for commitment, but I’m not great at it. 


When I try, I get shit on. When I don’t try, I shit on someone else. 

It’s a no win situation. 

I slept on this post. Tried to figure out how to own all the emotion that goes with it. 

Here goes, and it’s the best I’ve got. 

Nothing hurts me worse than trying and failing. It’s devastating. Especially in relationships. Especially. In. Relationships. 

I’m typically so absent from my feelings. I’m rational and logical. I don’t lead with emotion. It’s not my thing. I’ve built emotional walls all around me like a fortress…none come in and none go out. It’s defensive, and it usually works. But sometimes, I slip up. And, I try. And, I love someone. And when I love someone, I’m all in. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for that person. And, I’m forgiving. And, I’m understanding. I try incredibly hard to make things work. I want the best for them. I want to be the best to them. Their happiness is important to me. 

I try not to sacrifice myself for them, but I typically do. I bend for them. I work towards our success. I work towards our future. 

I love them the best way I know how. 

So when that’s manipulated, disregarded, or trashed, it’s hard. 

It probably took me a lot to get there in the first place. It probably required a lot of prayer and soul searching for me to love them. I probably had to make sacrifices. I probably second guessed that love. I probably did a million behind the scenes things to get myself to a point that I could express that love. 

And, it didn’t work. 

And, I don’t know what to do. Because, I wouldn’t have driven all this way to be disappointed. 

I don’t know if I can do it again. The silence is peaceful and alone isn’t always lonely. 

I don’t want to like anyone that’s not guaranteed. 

I’m not the best choice 

I’m not your best choice. If I’m not your only option, the only choice you can envision making, the girl of your damn dreams, then I’m not in the running at all. If you have to make a choice, don’t choose me. Seriously.

So there’s this guy. We’ve know each other for a while now, gone on a zillion date-like things, kissed, even passionately under the influence, but that’s it.

He has a habit of chasing down the girl that needs to be saved, standing in the rain with her, and professing his love. His type needs him in her world and can’t function without his guidance. I’m not that girl.

We’ve always viewed each other as friends. Just friends. A consistent plus one. Nothing more. I’m not his type, and his controlling personality hadn’t really turned me on either. So, when he named me the most logical choice for him, I was shocked. I’m not flattered, and I’m definitely not interested.

Logical, and probably reasonable. Your choice? The winner, or the consolation prize?

Nah. Outside of the fact that I’m not looking to change our relationship in that direction, I’m insulted.

If you ever need to choose me, I’m not a choice.

I want the man who can’t live without me. The man who is moving mountains for me. The man who is fighting for me. The man who can’t imagine being with anyone other than me. The man who made a damn decision, not a choice.

I want passion, intention, and commitment. I’m closer to  40 than 30, and I’m not playing any games. I’m also not a pick one from a conveyor belt. This is real life, pal.

I know I’m your best choice, but I’m not an option.