Hot mess

Date two was great. He cooked me dinner, if I remember correctly it was the most amazing pork loin. We had some drinks and I quickly realized that making the 40 minute drive home would not be a good idea. I asked what he was expecting me to do, he said that he would sleep on the couch – which I informed him would not be necessary. We took a selfie in our hoodies to share on Facebook.

I asked him what he was thinking. And when he told me that he “didn’t want to say” I took that as meaning he wanted to get laid. Later I found out that he was thinking he “may have found the one”.

I put out. Why not. It was alright, not extraordinary but not bad.

Here is where things started to go wrong…

The third or fourth time we hung out – I drive 40 minutes in a fucking blizzard. As I am pulling into his neighborhood he informs me that one of his friends is over. I’m sorry, we just met and I was anticipating getting to spend some time with you, don’t drop some fucking bombshell that you have company over. I am not a social butterfly, I hate surprises. Anyway, I walk into the house to see each of these guys sitting at the kitchen table halfway through a 6 pack. I didn’t bother to sit down, I stood off to the side and barely made small talk. I called my mother as a distraction and sat in the living room on the phone until this random guy left. I could tell Justin was pissed, I refused to talk about the situation.

A couple nights later – I once again drive to his house in shit weather. As I am sitting down at the dinner table, before I can take my first bite, he says “hurry up and eat there are some people I want you to meet”. Fucking. Amazing. We eat, we get in the car and I start driving. He gets a phone call from some girl, apparently she is stuck in a ditch and is begging him to come save her. He tells her he is with his girlfriend, she calls him a douche. We finally arrive at this weird couple’s house. The wife is sitting at the table feeding her child while the husband is locked in the bathroom puking. The wife proceeds to repeatedly tell the child that “daddy is stupid”. I am so glad I rushed through dinner for this amazing experience.

To make this whole situation even better earlier in the day Justin asked what I was doing – working – and when I asked what he was doing he informed me that he was “sitting on the couch”. I don’t think 5 minutes passed and he was getting tagged in a photo of mixed drinks in a bar. And apparently the drunk husband had been on an all day bender after Justin left him there. Just fucking classy.

This friend of his that I just had to meet, the one with the 6 pack. Grade A fucking douche bag. About 2 months into my relationship Justin invited me to stay at his house after class. He said that the douche was over but he would be gone by the time I got there. As I am pulling into the driveway I can here the most racist, bigoted fucking song I have ever heard in my life. Every other word was the N-word or derogatory names for homosexuals, I cannot even bring myself to actually spell those words out.  When I finally walked in the house I found him passed out in his bed. It took everything I had to actually stay in that house that night.

For the life of me I don’t know what possessed me to take this relationship any farther. I really liked the guy, already knew I wanted to be with him for a substantial amount of time and hell, I needed this distraction from my past. One night he made us dinner, like usual. We sat at the table in silence. I was so fucking frustrated I couldn’t even eat. I just stared at him. We ended up having our first fight. I think he cried, and I was emotional too. I told him all the things that had pissed me off up to that point and he agreed he would make some changes.

Little did I know those changes would end with him completely alienating himself from all of his friends. To this day I think he still blames this all on me, I know that he is miserable and isn’t the person he wants to be. All I asked for was some decent people to hang out with. But all he introduced me to was trash.

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Camo hoodies

So that brings us to my current relationship. If you read my intro you should know that getting married was never in my plans.

When Dave and I ended it was more complicated than just losing a boyfriend. I jumped into a relationship with Dave to distract me from losing Dan. With Dave gone I had no distraction any more, I was forced to face things that I wasn’t ready to.

After a couple weeks of feeling sorry for myself I decided I was ready for the next distraction. I remembered having an account with plentyoffish.com years ago, within a few minutes I figured out my old password and was in. I updated my profile slightly and added some new photos. It didn’t take long to have a date lined up.

I had several dates lined up actually. To be honest, I can’t even recall their names. Dinner, movies, drinks, etc. They were nice guys, but I knew it wasn’t going anywhere. One night I was scrolling through the “people who want to meet you” list. I came across this guy, he was good looking and he was wearing camo….pretty much all I needed to see to click the “mutual interest” option on the screen.

He messaged me the next day. Told me his name was Justin. We went back and forth for a couple of days, it seemed like he was always working and took forever to reply to my messages. We exchanged numbers and I told him to call me later that night.

He spent a majority of our time on the phone singing songs, rapping nonsense. He was funny, kind of weird, but I like it. I was on my way to a meeting at work, I can’t recall where he was going but we agreed to talk more about a possible date and got off the phone.

That was a Sunday. We set a date for Wednesday. I always ask what kind of attire would be appropriate for a date, is this super casual or are you expecting me to dress up? Thank god he said casual. For some reason B-dubs is a popular place for first dates. We met there before I had class. It was your typical first date, getting to know each other. I asked if we could hang out again. He asked if I would come to his house, he would cook me dinner. He asked if our second date could be a “camo hoodie date”, I knew I then that I was probably going to marry this guy.

4 months

4 months went by before Dave and I decided to be a couple. Dave is a great guy, he’s hilarious. And also a cocky fucker. Always making jokes, sometimes at other’s expense. He had his fair share of jabs at me. So, when we finally decided to make love for the first time I waited until he was done to drop a bomb shell. He was quiet, and I said “we need to talk”. I let a minute or so pass by before I finally said…..”I have herpes”. He almost shit himself while simultaneously falling off the bed. By the time I finally told him I was joking I was just about ready to call an ambulance, he may have had a minor heart attack. Hilarious.

Things were great for almost a year. My parents loved him, my sister loved him. We traveled home all the time, I think one of my favorite memories is when we went to the dunes and spent the day on quads. His kids were awesome, they seemed to like me alright. We had plenty of great times, we tossed around the idea of moving in together. He even offered to let me quit my job so I could focus solely on finishing my degree.

One night after dinner at his mother’s house we were sitting around watching a movie. His sister was there with her son. Hunter, the nephew, was being so mean to her. I finally had to say something, simply told him to be nice with his mom. I forget what was said next but within a few moments he and Dave were practically in a fist fight. They exchanged some heated words, the argument ended with hunter making a bombshell announcement. Dave was still married.

I calmly grabbed my things and left the house. Days went by without any contact. Finally Dave asked me if we could talk. We met at my apartment, I asked what the fuck was going on. Initially Dave said he wasn’t still married. When I said I didn’t believe him he admitted that the divorce was never finalized. While he did tell me when he first met he was going through a divorce, my slightly inebriated state helped me to forget all about that. And after 6 months and several appointments with a lawyer I just assumed everything had been taken care of. I was wrong.

I’m stubborn. After a few days of debating, I decided I couldn’t accept this situation and told him it was over. That was it. We didn’t speak again.

Looking back, I shouldn’t have assumed the divorce was final. Honestly, I had forgotten that we was even in the middle of one when we first started seeing each other. I didn’t plan to date the guy, or love the guy. I was just looking for something fun to do at the time.

Big game hunting

So you may be curious how Dave and I met. Funny story.

When I first moved across the state I was so lonely, I didn’t know anyone outside of work. Coincidentally around that time my bff had started sharing with me some absolutely insane craigslist posts. Holy fuck are people into some weird shit.

Almost every night I passed the time on Craigslist, reading about people’s sick fantasies. One night I decided to post an ad, nothing sick, just an ad looking for someone to hang out with. The title of my ad was “big game hunting”, a poor choice in retrospect because I almost immediately received 100 emails, most of them thinking that I was a prostitute haha.

And then came a message, from a normal looking guy that seemed pretty legit. Definitely older than me, but that was ok. We agreed to meet at B-dubs for some drinks. It was nice, we jokes around a lot and both got a little tipsy. He told me he had 2 kids, was going through a divorce (this comes in to play later). I asked him if we could do this again, he seemed shocked but said we might be able to.

We parted ways. I sent him an email, telling him I had fun. We exchanged phone numbers. It wasn’t too long before we hung out again. We spent quite a bit of time hitting up bars and clubs in downtown Grand Rapids.

One night he got me so trashed. I don’t recall exactly what happened when we got to the truck but when I woke up in his bed, completely dressed, my head hurt so fucking bad I could hardly function. He informed me that when we got to be truck I climbed in, immediately decided I needed to puke and instead of casually leaning out I dove head first into the nerf bar before bouncing my head off the concrete curb. Classy.

We had dinner a couple of times and one day he asked if I’d like to go out on his boat. I agreed. During the drive down to the lake the thought occurred to me, I don’t really know this guy….what if he kills me and dumps my body in the lake…he didn’t.

The end

From the moment I woke up until I fell asleep I was on my phone, texting him non-stop. It was a struggle sometimes at work, I think I spent more time hiding down aisles than actually getting work done. How he kept getting away with it was beyond me.

He continued coming to visit. And when I went home he didn’t mind spending time with my friends. We would go to one of the bars that we used to frequent when we first started our adventure, sometimes my friends would join us. He even had lunch with my sister and I and went to my grandparents for our annual Mother’s Day dinner. It was crazy. I told him I wanted to marry him, have a kid with him.

He would call me every night on his ride home from work. One evening we talked for what seemed like forever. I was wondering what was taking him so long to get home, and there it was…a knock on the door. He drove all that way, to get to me after midnight. We spent hours fucking. And just when it felt like things couldn’t get any better, he let me fall asleep on his chest.

I had found ways to occupy myself while he was away. It wasn’t fair that he was able to go home to her and I had no one. I met a guy, Dave, great guy. We would spend our nights in the city getting drunk and laughing. He was always a gentleman, never made a move on me. A couple of months went by, seeing Dan from time to time for some amazing sex and casual conversation and seeing Dave when I could for some fun out on the town.

And then things changed.

It’s not that I gave Dan an ultimatum, I just wanted to know. Would he ever leave her? Would he ever want just me? They travelled to Maine for a wedding. Pictures were posted on Facebook, it tore me apart. I needed a distraction. Dave and I went downtown, I got too drunk to stand. Dan kept trying to text me, and I kept trying to hide it. I went home with Dave that night, and he was a complete gentleman as always. Dave told me the following morning that I drunkenly told him about Dan, it didn’t bother him since we weren’t being intimate. Hell, we weren’t a couple, we just spent time together.

When Dan came back from Maine something changed. He wasn’t the same. He was cold and withdrawn. It was obvious that this was the beginning of the end. Shortly after I made a trip home, I stopped by my old work and his mom told me that he had signed on a house with his girlfriend, confirming my belief that the choice wasn’t me. And I don’t think it was ever going to be me.

I took to Facebook. I blew it all wide open. Let the world know that I had been sleeping with Dan, for close to a year and a half at this point. I let everyone know that if they wanted his girlfriend’s contact info to send me a personal message. Upwards of 20 people messaged me, although I am not sure how many messaged her I do know that a few did. I also sent a message to her, detailing what had been happening. Needless to say, it didn’t phase her. Idiot.

I broke into a million pieces. I didn’t know what else to do. I jumped into a relationship with Dave. It only made sense. He was a great guy, the chemistry was there and we had a lot of fun together. I needed to find a way to get over Dan. Dave offered a distraction when we were together.

2 weeks

2 weeks later I was on the move. Packing up everything I own and heading to my new apartment. For the first time in my life I would be living alone.

For awhile I made weekly trips back home, I had some classes to finish. Less and less I stayed with the boyfriend, I made excuses to stay with my parents or I would stay in a hotel with Dan, rarely did I even tell anyone that I was in town. When classes were over he began making trips down to see me. We would alternate, he would come to see me for a night then I would drive home to see him. Where the hell did his girlfriend possibly think he was going?

After the first few visits to my apartment it was obvious I needed to upgrade some furniture. I went and bought a new bed which was long over due. Within 5 hours of having the damn thing he was at my apartment to test it out. Almost immediately we snapped the font legs off the fucking frame. Talk about an awkward trip to the store to return it…

After awhile I stopped driving up. He would come down and stay the night once or twice a week. He even made a point to come down for several days at a time as much as he could. Again, where the hell did she think he was at??? Honestly, I didn’t care what she thought. I lived for the times I could see him, it wasn’t just the amazing sex….it was something more.

We used to frequent this bar in Comstock Park called Vitales. It seemed like we were there every Wednesday, the bartender was great. She always took care of us, strong drinks and great food, she even let us steal glasses from time to time. Having dinner, some drinks and shooting pool became part of the routine and it was a blast.

Months went by. After a night of drinking he climbed on top of me and begged for me to tell him what I was thinking, what I was feeling. Other than him being pressed up against me I was feeling a range of emotions. I knew I was in over my head but I couldn’t find the words to tell him. And then, all of a sudden, there it was. He said he loved me.

Words cannot explain how this made me feel. I loved him too. But what did this mean for our relationship? Could it even be called a relationship? A fucklationship?

Time and time again

We met at the gym quite a bit. Eventually we figured out how to make it work, and although I was still nervous as fuck every time, it got better and better.

Rest stops and parking lots. Anywhere we could meet, we fucked. It was ridiculous and I loved it. Several times I had him come to my work and we snuck outside to the stockade area and had sex between pallets of wood pellets.

This is exactly the kind of stuff fairly tales are made of.

For months this went on. Eventually his mom asked me if I had anything to do with his son coming in on an almost daily basis. The smile on my face gave it away. Eventually I stopped being shy about letting people know how badly I wanted to mount Dan like fucking Sea Biscuit. Everyone thought it was hilarious, no one knew it was already happening.

We got cocky in our ability to be sneaky. Occasionally the girls from work would want to hit up the bar together. And from time to time Al would want to join us. We always went to the same bar, the Nite Cap – the epitome of shit hole dive bars. I would always ask Dan to come. He would come in nonchalantly, see us all at a table and ask to join. I remember one night sitting at one end of the table, Dan on one side of me and Al on the other. It was a weird feeling. The girls from work knew how I felt about Dan, the next day it was all they could talk about.

I stopped for lunch at the Nite Cap one day, it was just Al and I. I got us a table while he went to the bathroom. Because I was there so often with Dan the bartenders knew what we wanted to drink before we even sat down. One of the waitresses brought over the usual to the table and when Al came back from the bathroom you could tell he was confused, the beverage that was delivered was not something he would ever order.

Things got kicked up a notch. My boyfriend was out of town for work. I knew it was wrong but I asked Dan to come to my house. So bad but it was so hot. The risk involved made it that much better.

It wasn’t long before he invited me to his house. I don’t know if it had the same effect on him as it did on me. Walking into their house made me feel…jealous and at the same time it gave me this overwhelming feeling of accomplishment. Laying on their bed for the first time gave me an almost inexpiable feeling, I imagine it could be compared to being the first person to climb Mount Everest and mark your territory with a flag.

After about a year of this constant sneaking around something had to change. I interviewed for a job I never thought I would get. When I was offered a job, 2,5 hours from home, I knew I had to take it. I needed an excuse to break off my relationship. I loved my boyfriend, but I knew what I was doing was wrong. I couldn’t torture Al any longer.

I am not a fan of confrontation. A new job meant no awkward conversation about being unfaithful. It also meant a better life for myself. When I told my boyfriend I needed to take this job we both cried and held each other. He agreed that it was a good opportunity. And I think secretly we both agreed that “we can make it work” was a lie.