I am fairly predictable when it comes to men. If I think your hot and I’ve been drinking, I’ll probably do something sexual with you. However, if I actually like you I prefer to not give you the nookie. On the subject of dating, I don’t date often because well most of the men I meet I don’t think are worth my time, and when I do decided to date, I will only date a guy once. Well just like with most rules, I made an exception. Big mistake. I’ve only dated one guy twice, and it’s haunted me ever since.
Now lets back it up a step here and let me explain the background before we get too deep into the situation. The first time I dated Mr. Bear* he had just recently broken up with his girlfriend of four years. Now me, being no stranger to the situation, knew he was on a rebound. I knew what I should and should not expect. I am not a standard, irrationally behaved individual. Nevertheless, we began dating. Nothing that serious or anything. After about a month and a half of dating, he expressed to me that he was talking to his ex and he felt like he should give it another go with her. Since he told me this up front, I was ok with it. I understood that he was truly in love with her and I was not about the reason he had doubts later on. So, Mr. Bear dumped me and began dating her again. We were still friends. No big deal.
A few months went by and lo and behold, Mr. Bear dumped his ball and chain. And then I did the unspeakable in my book, I took him back after he broke up with her. I will say it now, and probably again later, I am an idiot, but digress. Mr. Bear and I went on in our happy-go-lucky world. I dropped the L-bomb, because I really did and do love him. May came, he graduated. Life was good. We planned a vacation to a far western state together where his parents owned a ranch. The vacation, by the way, was awesome. I loved every minute of it. Mr. Bear just being there was a plus. Once the week was over, I returned to Virginia. Mr. Bear stayed out west to work.
Over the next few weeks, our conversations became less and less frequent and 15 days after I left, he broke up with me out of the blue. Good thing he was not in Virginia because I lost my nugget that night. A few weeks later he came home for a weekend and we had “the talk”. You know, kiss and make up without the kiss and make up part. Closure for me. In a nut shell I told him that I was not got to sacrifice a four year friendship for a six month relationship. I also made it clear that I was not going to date him again. I should have include that I was not going to have sex with him as well, but that would have been a lie. So we continue as friends. Him with his new girlfriend, Ms. Granny, that he dumped me for when he was in that western state. Me with Mr. 8.5, as in 8.5 inches of a meat wall coming at my face. Score: Mr. Bear-zero; Me-one.
Eventually things between Mr. Bear and Ms. Granny did not work out as planned. We hooked up shortly after they broke up. Alcohol was not my friend that night and definitely impaired my judgement. About a month later, we see each other again on St. Patty’s (my third favorite holiday). We end up going home together, though not entirely by choice. What I thought was going to happen was a group of us were going back to his place. Plans changed at the last minute. So here we are in his room and he has his mojo going. Homegirl was no longer interested. I was sending off “No thanks mate” and “I’m not interested” vibes in the bed like it was my job. He didn’t get it. So I resorted to cuddling as a way to ward off his advances. Then he dropped the bomb. Picture it. It’s pitch black. It’s quiet. And bam…”I thought we had an understanding.” Awkward silence. “Righttttt.” Thank god he could not see the fucked up expression on my face. The conversation continued and I honestly began to reconsider who actually had the vagina in the room. Things progressed from that awkward conversation on St. Patty’s. Mr. Bear developed a relationship with a lovely young woman, Angel. I sincerely think that she was a keeper. But as it usually happens, he fucked it up, and he was back on my door step again.
So this brings us to the present day. I am going to be in his neck of the woods this weekend. He got wind of this and started to act like a doe in heat. He’s been barking up my tree for two weeks. My cousin, Sunshine, and I were discussing how Mr. Bear’s conversation with me this weekend would play out. It went a little something like this:
Me: “So I’m not really sure what you are looking for here. I mean, do you want a relationship or a fuck buddy? Because I’m not really interested in either option with you”
Mr. Bear: …silence…
Don’t get me wrong, I still love Mr. Bear, but I swear to you if he cockblocks me one more time we are going to brawl. There is a fine line between being a friend who looks out for you, and a friend that straight up cockblocks you. So, stay tuned for updates on my weekend adventure with Mr. Bear.
*I changed the names to protect myself and them.