And All That

All there is to balance.

All there is to do.

All the fun to be had.

All the flirting.

I love flirting.

It is just so much fun.

I also like taking it a little further, so here’s to trying again and another date for tomorrow night.

Yes.

I am busy.

But fuck it, I also have been told so many times to lighten up and go have fun and all work and graduate school are not going to be allowed to suck the fun out of my life.

And there’s room for it.

I do have room for it.

I am busy, yes, but not so busy that a little lightness, a cup of tea, a conversation, can’t be made.

I can and have made the time.

So here’s to another round of trying and also knowing that I don’t have to make the same mistakes, and also that, yes, there’s probably other mistakes that I will make and overall and all and all, it’s all for the good.

No matter what.

Ah dating.

So much fun.

So many places to get humility.

But really, what I have been responding to is when I am being sparkled at.

That seems a really good way for me to know that there is something true there.

Is the person shining at me?

Is the man across from me engaged.

I mean chemistry.

So.

I’ll be climbing back into the saddle and having very much learned my lesson, be a better date as well.

And if there’s no chemistry, so be it, I tried.

Just keep showing up.

And just leave it alone.

I did some inventory tonight with my person after work and it was just so good.

I shared and when asked what I should have done instead, it was so simple, “walked away and left him alone.”

Or as my dearest girlfriend said today, and has said before, “go where it’s warm.”

And believe them when they say they are not available or if they don’t call back or text back that’s the same as I’m not available and it doesn’t even matter if they’re interested.

“Honey, they’re all interested, they’re just not all available.”

Exactly.

So believe them when they say I’m not available and save yourself the fucking heart ache.

Because they, the guys, the men, anyone, could be a friend too, are giving you all the information you need right up front, right away, and I can hear it with honesty and integrity and believe it.

Which means living in reality.

Not fantasy.

Because even though fantasy is nice it sure as shit ain’t real.

And the “safety” it offers is not really safe, it’s just another way to self-sabotage my way to unhappiness.

I’m also lightly holding all the things in my heart around this.

It has been an ever deepening awareness of myself that I have been sticking my hand into for years, this I want to date, be involved romantically, try, and then not wanting to try, feeling unworthy, unlovable, not good enough.

You know what’s crazy?

Every single swipe on Tinder that is a positive for me, every guy that I have said, sure, I’d go on a date, has been a match.

100%

I haven’t not matched at all.

And.

I realized it was freaking me the fuck out.

Whoa.

I am attractive.

Shit, fuck, what?

Um.

Hello.

And there’s this nasty little voice in me, oh, that’s just a good picture, you’re more photogenic, you’re body’s not good enough, etc, etc, etc.

Shut up.

I am perfect.

The body is perfect.

Well.

Imperfectly perfect, perfect for me, soft in spots, curvy in others, a grey hair there, a wrinkle here, but this is it, this is me and me is pretty and sweet and sexy and nice and stupid sometimes, but I try and my heart is big and I’m a great cook.

Not that I’m trying to get you to ask me out or anything.

Heh.

I’m must appreciating my assets and knowing, really, firmly, in good stead realizing, that I am worthy.

Worthy of love.

Worthy of respect.

Which all has to do with how I treat myself and the behavior I accept or do not accept from those I engage with.

Which means knowing what I need and want and sticking to my guns.

Anywho.

That’s what’s upstairs in my thoughts tonight.

That and weather and being a bit bummed to not be on my scooter, I thought I was going ot get in one more day of being on it, but it started to rain as I was doing some reading for school before I headed into work, so I grabbed a car and it looks like that’s how it’s going to be for the rest of the week.

I’m not going to ride my bike, I’m not going to waste time on MUNI, my time is a precious resource, so I’m also not going to be upset about spending a few extra dollars getting to and from work and to and from school.

Tomorrow, more reading, get the final edits done on my papers, work, my commitment, and a tea date.

Then.

I get ready for the school weekend and I’ll see you on the other side.

Well.

I’ll still be showing up here.

I haven’t failed to blog yet since I started graduate school.

Kind of amazing that, now that I am thinking about it, but I love it so, I do, my little blog.

My troublesome outlet, I do love it, I do.

The writing is my balm.

The words clicking out of the keyboard onto the screen, then out into the world, to land, well, who knows where.

Just that I sent them out.

Just that I show up.

That’s all.

Try.

Fall down.

Get the fuck back up.

Laugh at myself.

And love myself.

And oh yeah, let me not forget this one, remember.

Always.

That I am worthy.

I am enough.

Yes.

Oh yes.

I am.

So.

Fucking.

Worthy.

Tags: back in the saddle, balance, blogging, commute, dating, emotional sobriety, flirting, getting up, graduate school, inventory, make out, rain, rainy day, recovery, scooter, self-care, self-love, shine, sparkle, Tinder, trying again, walk away, weather, work, worth, worthiness