Friday, June 8, 2018 – I texted you that it was such a fun night to let you know you were right about how to do fun nights when someone is a grandma like me. You didn’t respond to that text because you didn’t like the idea of me going to a bar scene without you and the potential for me to go all crazy party girl for one late night or meeting some other guy who’s a lot more funnier and charming than you. Don’t even front with that. What didn’t make sense to me is you and I weren’t even an item back then. (Not that we are now either.) Yet it hurt not to get a text back from you. It was as if you were already forcing your standards of how a perfect girlfriend should behave on me before we were anything to be labeled. I don’t even know what to label us now, but I do know now that we aren’t even an “us.” What I’m questioning is if we ever were an “us.” Especially since the beginning we have ever known each other you have treated me like I’m already “yours,” even though we have never talked about it. Wednesday Tuesday Friday. You would neither confirm nor deny any of this. I know you well enough now that your best would be to just leave me guessing because you’re not man enough to face your insecurities and move the F on and grow the F up.
That night I learned I didn’t belong amongst a group of unsober girls, I can put myself in situations where I know nobody and still have a fantastic time, I can be flexible and change my mind about a specific drink I want to try so I can try one drink collectively with a few girls who want to try the same drink, and while every other girl was talking about leaving her man at home to go out with the girls, I wanted to be one of those girls who could say stuff like that. Well, after getting to know the limited you that you ended up allowing me to know, I can say I no longer want the same things I did that night. Except I do, with someone else. Someone else who I know is worthy of my time and affection. A man who is actually a man, not a boy inside a man’s body. A man who is a leader and not afraid to take charge. A man who is confident, but not cocky. A man who communicates well, especially who is not afraid to be vulnerable with me and will let me baby him from time to time. A man who calls me “babe” and actually means it. A man who actually puts God first in all aspects of his life, not just says he does, and leads me to do the same. Who that is will be for me to know and you to not find out.
In the words of Ariana Grande: thank u, next.
At The Outset 