I Dine Alone

Friday nights spent half-watching reruns of The Office while half-texting until my fingers hurt. Instead tonight I drove my old white Mitsubishi to the Thai restaurant in town. Had to ease my craving for drunken noodle, calm my sour mood.

Immediately, I ordered a Thai Iced Tea. I never even knew what that was until my ex-boyfriend introduced me back in 2013. I traveled to Stony Brook to buy the special tea leaves from an Asian market once, purchased condensed milk then made it for him at home, used way too much condensed milk. He told me so. But I didn’t listen.

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Wanting a Boy to Like You

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We finally got to The Cape Cod House at 1:30 in the morning. Exhausted, excited and delirious we walked through the large front yard to the door.

He greeted us with a beer in hand.

“Hey guys! How was the trip up!? Welcome to the house. Everyone is in the kitchen. Go get a drink!”

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Putting Yourself First

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People tell me I have a knack for writing about dating and relationships. I am always doling out my share of love advice. I am fascinated by the way people interact with one another. Because of that, most of my blog posts are based around dating and relationships. I’ve enjoyed sharing my stories and experiences but after turning another year older on Saturday I have finally learned some important things.

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I Want Pain: A Dark Piece

Screenshot_2016-03-31-17-44-43-2.pngI can’t shake the feeling of wanting to wrap something around my own neck. To feel pain around my throat; to feel my air supply slowly being cut off. Feeling pain is all I crave right now and I can’t explain why. I want the pain to be so unbearable that it forces hot tears out of my eyes, I want to feel them as they run down my cheeks, smearing my mascara. My nose runs. I’m sniveling all over myself. I’m panicked. I’m alone.

I don’t really want to die but that cord hanging from the ceiling was taunting me. So many bodies. So many people are crowded around me I just want to push them all out of my way. A man walks by and runs over my foot with his rolling luggage. I toss him a dirty look. It makes me so angry. As hundreds of bodies fight against each other to the escalator I slowly growl under my breath. Growling softly is all I can do at the end of the day. Then I see that wire hanging from the top of the station platform. As I make my way down the escalator I wonder if I could leap up and slip my head through the loop hanging above me. I wonder how painful it would be, if I would die instantly or if it would be slow. I wondered if anyone would even notice the young girl in the leather jacket with the blue backpack hanging above them as they race for their rush hour train.

I wonder if my life would even mean something if I left it right now. I have no man who cares for me. My family would miss me. My friends would miss me. I feel like  I am nothing, I have nothing.  I’m just another flesh vehicle trying to survive a place with no clearly defined purpose.

If you or someone close to you is contemplating suicide, please know that help is available to you. Call 1-800-SUICIDE or visit http://www.hopeline.com.

Disclaimer: I would never want to harm myself. This is merely a piece written during an unhappy period that should be read as a character from a book rather than a true reflection of the blogger behind it.

The Tinder Chronicles – Why Do I Bother?

tinderella1-e1445200982961The people you swipe on Tinder are as random as people you see when you walk through the streets of New York. There are so many profiles to choose from that you really don’t matter to these people. You’re purely disposable. Truly, no one cares. Not only that, if you are an online dater you may already know that online chemistry in no way relates to real life chemistry. It may seem like you have much to talk about via text but in real life it usually doesn’t translate. As you may know there are different levels of attraction aside from just the physical  – voice, mannerisms, dress, smell, touch, little things like that. Here are two real life profiles of men who I have met thanks to Tinder:

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A Halfhearted Cure for Loneliness

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Seven hundred and thirty days with no cuddling and no intimacy. I would hold hands with a man and it would lead to nothing. We would kiss and there would be no “afterwards.” I would go on a date with someone from 2-4 times and then I would stop talking to them. There wasn’t a strong, genuine enough connection with any of the people that I met online that would make me comfortable enough to be intimate with them or even be in a relationship with them.

But the truth is I probably could have dated any of those men. It was my past that was holding me back from being with someone again. After being single for so long, I craved a man to love me. I craved giving my heart to a man. To feel a man’s touch. To be taken care of. And the way I was going about finding a suitable one just wasn’t working out for me.

Two years without meaningful intimacy will do crazy things to a woman. Until I started to think outside of the box.

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