Delete

Not sure how to figure this one out.

I met him at a singles event. The minute I met him, I was interested. He was tall. He was handsome. Then he talked to me and told me he was a cop. Oh, I LOVE cops! I’ve been dating a cop. He enthralls me and my friends with his cop stories. I think I must have been visibly panting over this guy.

When the event is over, he leaves and sends me a txt message asking me to meet him at a nearby bar. So I go.

As I’m on my way, he txts asking what I want to drink and suggests my FAVORITE beer. It’s an uncommon one, so I am wowed and he says he’ll have it waiting for me when I get there.

I get lost in the parking garage and ask him for directions on how to get to the bar. He says, “Do I need to pull some cop shit and come rescue you?” Yes, as a matter of fact, I’d love a hot man to come rescue me. He does. Turns out I was in a part of the garage that is mostly used by the offices and not the bar and restaurant patrons. He’s a regular and even he had trouble finding me.

We sit down and there’s my beer. We start talking. He tells me the story of why he’s here.

He was at a Halloween party this year. He sees a woman who takes his breath away. He wants to talk to her, but can’t. She gets away. He regrets it.

I jokingly ask, “Was it me?” He says, “Yes, but let me finish.” OMG!!!! I was kidding. Really, it was me?

He says his friends encouraged him to join this singles group. So when he went for his interview, the club owner is showing him pictures of things they have done…and there is my picture. He asks, who is this woman? She says that’s one of our club members. Realizing this is his dream woman that he let get away, he joins the club on the spot.

When he met me, I mentioned that I had been dating a cop. He says he thought I was taken and he say s he almost left that minute.

So the night continues with lots of talking and connecting. He is so nervous and excited. As soon as I realize there is a connection, I lean over and kiss him…just to let him know his interest is welcome. We talk more. He smells soooo good. Smell is a huge thing for me. I believe it’s how we primally connect. We are snuggling in this bar. I say I hope I can live up to his dream of who I am. He says it’s all good. But he is a little concerned. Apparently, he is not totally free, and there is some woman here that knows him and it’s not a comfortable situation for him. So I agree to leave.

He walks me back to my car. We kiss more. A lot of HOT kissing. I really feel a connection to this guy and think the way we met is really special. It ends with him stopping and saying, “Girl, we need to stop, or I’m gonna end up pushing you in this car and getting crazy ,” or something like that. He says he’ll call me and we’ll get together soon.

Soon hasn’t happened. After several days, I txt’d him saying I hoped I hadn’t scared him off with my drunken forwardness. He laughed it off and said no way and he’s just been busy. A week later, I asked if I needed to delete his number from my phone. He laughed and said no, he’d been traveling and would be back soon.

Every time he txt’d me, I responded immediately, then get no response for a day or so. He was the WORST at txt communication. A few weeks after our meeting, I sent him a message that said “delete”.

I never heard from him again. So promising, yet it died so quickly without him telling me it was over. He wanted to meet me so bad, then he let It go so easily. I don’t get it.

The Toad Pool

People often ask me about the origin of The Toad Pool. I’ve also been asked why I number the guys I date. One has even gone so far as to call me insensitive to treat men like numbers and like they don’t matter.

Here’s the story.

#1 and #3 were both named Bill. Both ended poorly. When I would speak of them, my best friend couldn’t keep them straight. She kept asking if this was the Bill who I actually met or the other one. She suggested I use the Seinfeld naming reference…first name plus occupation. So that would be Bill Cop and Bill Tractor Sales. In my frustration, I said they didn’t really deserve to be given names. I decided I would just number them. I would start a betting pool for my friends. My goal was to find a boyfriend. They got to place bets on which number would actually be a winner. I liked my friends who had low numbers because that meant I would find a boyfriend quickly.

So I would refer to them by number from that point. It worked well. #6 was actually a boyfriend who lasted more than a few months. Calling him by number had a side benefit of keeping our relationship anonymous until we were ready to “come out” to our mutual friends.

After that relationship ended, I continued to date and number the men. But something happened. The numbers got into double digits. It stopped being cute referring to them as numbers. It started to make me sound slutty. It’s not that I was sleeping with all of these men. Heck, one of them I never even met. And some of them I never even kissed. So what qualified as a number? I decided #1 deserved a number even though we never met because he had such huge significance in my single life. After that, I stopped giving numbers to the guys who I’d planned to meet that never materialized. There are several of those in the online dating world. So pretty much if we actually go out and meet, you get a number.

I have noticed an odd phenomenon. EVERY odd number has ended badly. Many of the even ones ended badly too, but not every one of them.

Somewhere around 15, I stopped using the numbers publicly. I still keep track. They are still numbered. There is still a Toad Pool in place.

NUMBER ONE

When people hear me refer to #1, they think I mean he was the best. Actually he was probably the worst. I just call him that because he was the first guy I was going to date after having my heart broken.

I knew it would do me no good to sit home and feel sorry for myself. The best way to get over my sadness was to get myself back out in the dating world. So I signed up for two online dating sites. I created what I thought was a nice profile and added some current pictures. I used my real age because I am truthful. Once the profile was posted, I started receiving Winks from men who were interested in me. I’ll admit, at first it was kind of fun. I read every profile and looked at lots of pictures of lonely old men taking their photos in the bathroom mirror. Ugh. I clicked the polite “Thanks, but not interested” link. Delete, delete, delete.

I used the search feature to find men that I was interested. My membership required me to contact 5 members each month anyway. So I started writing to a few men. I really put effort in these messages. I wrote letters describing what I liked about their profiles and ways that I would fit into their lives. I was witty. I was clever. I was pretty. I was available. I hit send and anxiously awaited their responses. Who wouldn’t want to go out with me? And then I waited more. I could see they read my messages…but no response. Really? That’s when I realized it wasn’t enough that *I* liked them. They had to like me too. Maybe I needed to look at those bathroom mirror pictures again.

Eventually, a guy contacted me and he was acceptable. Not hot, not perfect, but he seemed nice. We corresponded back and forth over about a week. Eventually we decided we should meet. He suggested coffee and we decided on a time and location. We exchanged phone numbers…just in case. A few hours before our meeting, he txt’d me saying he was running late at the uniform store (he was a cop and just starting a new job). I told him I would be available after 4 when my kids go back to their dad. He said, “it’s our first date!”

Then nothing. I kept waiting for him to let me know what time he finished and would be available. After awhile, I worried that maybe he misunderstood my txt and thought we were actually meeting at 4. So I txt’d him. I also called and left a message. Nothing. I sent an email from the dating site.

Nothing. Wow. I had never been stood up in my entire life. Here is the first date I’ve had. I’m nervous and excited. And I got stood up.

Several months later, I received an email from him on the dating site. No explanations. Just popped in saying hi and asking how things are going. I responded and told him he had some nerve contacting me after what he did to me and asked him to never contact me again.

He’s a dick. He still sends me messages every few months. I just delete them and remember how my single life began.

Ground Zero

It’s probably best to start my blog with an explanation of how I got here. Before I joined the dating ranks. Before I started The Toad Pool. Before there was a numbering system. There was just Ground Zero.

He was going to be my first post-divorce fling. I fell in love with him the minute I laid eyes on him. I was still married…unhappily. There was this beautiful man in my friend’s pool. Before I knew it, he was in my bedroom, doing repairs on a faulty water line. I was tongue tied. Over the next two years, he would return occasionally and do more work. He was our handyman…and my fantasy.

Over time, I learned that he lived out of state, but visited his brother (my friend’s husband) occasionally. He didn’t drink. He loved country music. Oh, and he had a girlfriend in CA. Really, we had nothing in common. Yet I lusted. So did all the married women in our neighborhood. We used to compare notes about whether he took his shirt off while painting our houses, etc.

So when I left my ex-husband, I figured he’d be the first guy I wanted to go out with, but knew it wouldn’t amount to anything. Which was perfect. I really just wanted to be alone and enjoy the freedom of being single. I had felt trapped for so long.

I was mistaken. He came back from CA and was single. We started dating. He was perfect for me. We fell deeply in love. After a few months, he moved in with me. I was never happier. We did so much together, and he was great with my kids. Our life was good and we felt like a family. Except that he only lived with me about 80% of the time. The other times, he was in CA staying at his parent’s house and doing work there. I was faithful and missed him terribly when he was gone. Sometimes he’d surprise me by coming home early. That was the best present ever.

We talked about how we could be together full-time. He hated AZ and I would have loved to live in San Diego, but I had my kids and couldn’t legally move them across state lines.

His mom had amputation surgery and he was needed in CA. He spent more and more time there. By the end, it was more like 50% of the time. Finally after almost 2 years together, he gave me an ultimatum: he was lonely and the only way we were going to last was if I moved there. I said yes. We started making plans…where we were going to live and where I would work and what I would do about the kids. He went back to CA and I started making arrangements with my ex regarding how to give up custody of my kids. Did I mention how much I loved this man? I would have done anything to be with him and I was doing it. There were more reasons to give up custody, but I won’t go into them here. But it made sense to me at the time. I was happy and excited. Finally we were building the life we had wanted and were going to be together.

Then I got the email. He didn’t want to be with me anymore. He wasn’t comfortable with the sacrifices I was making. We talked it out and got back together and he broke up with me again via email. He came to town and we worked it out again. When he left town again, I said I better not get another email from him. I didn’t. I got a txt message.

Luckily the ink wasn’t dry on the custody agreement. I suffered the worst heartbreak I’ve ever known. I later discovered that he had a new girlfriend in CA that he had started seeing while we were together. When he gave the ultimatum, he probably figured I would say no and we would end it. I guess I called his bluff.

So the man I loved didn’t really exist. I loved a man who was good hearted and faithful and loved me as much as I loved him. Not the cheater I ended up with. But I did love him fully and with all of my heart and soul. At first I missed him terribly. Now I realize that I miss the life we had together and I would love to have that again. Is it possible to love that fully again? I certainly hope so. Without that hope, what’s the point?

Did I mention I loved him?