Obsessed

It's not everyday you meet someone who could be your soul mate.  Someone who you instantly connect with and can tell all your dark secrets too without hesitation.  Someone who understands you, read you like a book, and in an instant know that you want him to stay forever more.  Someone who you can just melt into, drift away and also someone that can bring out the best and the worst in you.

It's only happened once or twice in my life and in recent weeks I met another possible soul mate of mine.  We talked and laughed and I could not believe how much we got along and connected, intellectually, physically, mentally, every bit of me, and us just connected.

When we both went back to our own homes after our first date, he sent me a text admitting how much he liked me, how much fun he had and I smiled.  Finally? I thought.  I was scared to fantasise but I couldn't help it.

We met up again, he came over, and we hung out in my room for a few hours.  He told me again how much he liked me and asked me what I thought of him.  I told him the truth, I said he was very young (28) but I did like him a lot also.

The next time we made plans to meet, I waited around in the city.  6pm went, no calls or texts, then 8pm then 9pm.  I sent him a text saying I was going home.  I called him when I was at home and he didn't answer.  I was devastated and hoped nothing was wrong but I was also so so confused.

The next morning he sent me a text saying how sorry he was.  And then he called and I forgave him, he promised it wouldn't happen again.  And we made plans to meet up that night.
When I finished work I texted and called again.  No answer.

I went out, got drunk, got wasted. And yet I still called him and texted. And he still didn't reply.

The next day, still intoxicated I called him again.  He said 'hi' like everything was ok and nothing happened.  He wanted to meet up later on.  I didn't believe him so I went to sleep off my hangover.  Later in the afternoon he did come over and we hung out again.  He asked me if I was mad he didn't call me.  I said I was pretty easy going.  And that was all was said about the matter.  It was a state of bliss.  I loved every bit of him being with me.

When he left that night he told me he would call me the next day to plan a date.  The same thing happened the next day.  Stood up again.  I then flipped.

I bought 3 bottles of wine, 2 pizzas and a pasta and got drunk again.  I started sending him psycho texts out of rage.  Ones that included lines such as 'I thought we had a mutual understanding that we liked each other', 'Are you just playing the field', 'Please can we talk about this', 'Why don't you come over and hang out', 'What did I do wrong?', 'I'm drunk, I like you too much', 'You're awesome fun to hang out with'.

It carried on for days until finally he responded with 'I have been wanting to see you, but your texts freaked me out a bit'.

All was forgiven.  And he wanted to see me again.

Then that night it happened again.  He blocked me from an online chat and I flipped once more.  'WTF did I do?', 'Can we sort this out?', 'What happened? Are you mad at me'.  The texts were needy, desperate, the 12am calls went unanswered.

I saw myself obsessed with this guy, confused, outraged at his behaviour.  How can someone treat me so bad, yet all I want is for him to want me and only me in his life.  Such desperation, panic that he probably thought I was crazy.

The next day, after an apologetic text and the reassurance that he still wanted to see me, all was forgiven again.

We made plans to meet up that Saturday night.

Friday night I was just chilling at home when he called wanting to come over.  Booty call.
Me in my drunken state agreed and he came over.  The next morning he said he would come back in the afternoon.  We made plans to have pizza and have a few drinks.

Later that evening, my calls and texts went unanswered and I was home alone again waiting for him.

The next day I received a text. 'Hey.'
I asked him what happened to him and he didn't reply.

The next few days, I would get random texts from him asking me how was I was, and it would always end with a standoffish 'I'm good', 'At basketball'.

I got back online, and started to look around again.  Keep myself occupied and try to forget.
And today I get another text, 'Hey how are you?'.
After a few more texts with no direction, I asked him if he was busy tonight and if he would like to grab a margarita.
No reply.

A few hours later, I noticed he checked my profile.

In the words of Johnny Cash 'And it burns, burns, burns'
My whole inside was burning up.  Rage, disappointment, anger, sadness.

I need to get him out of my head, out of my life.
It's so hard to let go when you think you meet someone who just gets you.  I didn't have to explain myself to him, nor him to me.  We just became.

Or so I thought.  He is obviously playing the field and nothing more.  I don't understand how his actions could be a big act.  He seemed so genuine to me.

All my friends tell me he's no good but yet how can I want him so so much.

I'm trying to just let go.  But half of my heart just keeps looking at my phone hoping to reconnect.
Deep down it won't happen but I wish so much my deep down instinct is wrong.

Let go. Let go.  He is only 28.  Just a boy. Not ready. Scared of my being so full on.

Just a player.

I need to chill the F out. Breath. Move on and let him go.

Bad Hair Night

It was hard to accept but I had one of those nights.

As I was preparing to meet up with Cuz for a bite and a few glasses of wine in Neutral Bay, I didn't think to do my hair, rather it was just tied up.  I did however go a little heavier on the eye liner giving myself a little taste of mod, printed knitted dress and high heeled suede boots.

Cuz then decides she would like to go out after dinner and I thought to do the same.  So we drove home to drop the car off and also perform a quick outfit change.

I found a black glittery dress in my wardrobe which I haven't worn for awhile. It was a shift dress that had a scoop neck.  I had imagined looking like Serena Van Der Woodsen from Gossip Girl.  I looked in my long mirror and topped with some high heeled ankle boots, hair up and black lined eyes I thought I looked quite chic, quite New York.

Cuz then came into my room, little shorts on, high heeled pumps finished with a furry vest, very cute and looking super hot.  We both left and as we walked out of our foyer, I caught myself in the mirror and knew straight away the dress was a bad choice.  I didn't look anywhere close to Serena Van Der Woodsen at all, rather I looked like a glittered version of Sponge Bob.

Over at Cherry whilst sipping on my usual Tommy's margarita, I didn't feel the vibe.  I felt frumpy next to Cuz, my legs where twice the size of hers, and I felt like an elephant next to the petite ball of hotness sitting next to me.  The guy that came up to her and interrupted our conversation by saying how pretty she was didn't even know I was there.  Usually a guy would talk to both girls if there's only two, acknowledge and introduce himself to both but nope, I didn't even exist to him.

The DJ played a track that I really loved.  I went up to him, smiled, and maybe even flirted a little.  Told him it was a top track, an awesome tune, and all I got was the cold shoulder.  A nod and a look that said 'you weirdo'.  I went back to the bar, a little uncomfortable, a lot fatter than I felt, and definitely a lot older.

I then started to feel ancient.  Like a cougar that forgot how to dress, an old lady trying to behave young but was just so out of place.  It was a horrid place to be.  I kept drinking but I couldn't even feel tipsy, feel the effects of anything other than disgust at my horrible choice in dress, and the way I have been acting.

That night I didnt have my mojo, I started to feel extremely uneasy, crappy, and really felt my age, and totally out of place.  There I was, an oldie in a place full of beautiful girls with hot bodies, flawless skin and gorgeous looks.  I then started feeling jealous of them all and wished so much I too could be ten years younger, and why didn't I live the way I am living now ten years ago.  I wasted so much of my life in the bedroom, a recluse. (That is a whole other story)

I was glad to call it a night, to just head home and go to bed and take that wretched dress off and dump it in a corner.

At the end of it all, the dress went into a clothing donation bag.

The power of clothing and make-up and actually putting in some effort.  Because if you feel good about yourself, you will give off the same energy and confidence.

Lesson learnt - the dress hung in my wardrobe for over a year without being worn for a reason.  Last time I wore it, I remember now.  I felt exactly the same way.