After my psychotic episode things were really good between Harry and me for the next three months. We had fallen back into our normal routine and I did my best not to pester him about our “status” and to just go with the flow.
My best friend, Harry, is a sex addict. Or at least that was the story we were going with, up until a couple of months ago when he miraculously had a “come to Jesus” moment (or rather more like a “I think I’ll try to be a good boy for a little while, just to see how long I can stand it” moment) and decided to stop sleeping with anything with a vagina and a car. For a while there, his bedroom was a revolving door of women, sometimes too many for me to keep track of, all vying for Harry’s love and attention. There were times I wish I could have warned some of these poor ladies, since nobody knows what a futile task it is to try to win Harry’s heart more than I do, but being his “bestie” I could only listen, often laugh (sorry – terrible, I know), and attempt, unsuccessfully, to beat some sense into his thick head. The truth is, it wouldn’t have mattered what, if anything, I had said to any women in his life, because there is just something about Harry that can make even the most sensible woman lose her goddamn mind.
“There is something I need to tell you…..”
That was the text message that I got the day after Christmas, about 4 months after I “met” Kevin on Tinder, and a few months after he had a complete nervous breakdown.
“I have lied to you. I am married and not the person you’ve seen in my pictures. Please do not contact me again. I have blocked your number and will not see any response you might have to this message.”
Are. You. Fucking. Serious?????
Previously on Catfished – Part 1 Kevin had allegedly had a mental breakdown and had been taken to Connecticut to recover at his mother’s house.
The next morning I sat at work sick to my stomach, wondering what the fuck had just happened. Almost on cue I receive a text message. It was from Kevin’s phone, but it wasn’t Kevin. It was his sister, Jenny. She was texting to let me know that he had arrived safely at their mom’s house, and that she had taken his phone away from him because “he had been writing crazy things to his friends,” but that he had asked her to reach out to me to keep me posted and to thank me for being there for him. We had an uncomfortable brief exchange about how I knew him, and she said she that no offense, but the whole thing seemed a little weird to her. Awkward…
It’s the most wonderful time of the year…well for a lot of people at least. For some of us, not so much. As we are in the midst of the holiday season with Christmas soon approaching, most people are looking forward to spending time celebrating with their families, and perhaps reminiscing of holidays past. For me, however, this particular Christmas certainly has me reminiscing, but not about warm and fuzzy memories.
It was Christmas day last year, when the guy that I had been speaking to for the past 3 months called me up from his “mother’s” house and said a quick hello while his “nieces and nephews” were screaming in the background. I remember being really happy to have received that call considering how rough things had been the two months prior. Perhaps I should backtrack…
Two nights ago I was texting with a guy I had matched with on Tinder about a week earlier. We had been texting via the app for about 5 days and had just exchanged numbers so that we could bring our conversation offline. He seemed pretty normal so far, had a pretty good sense of humor, and had asked some general questions about my life and had checked in during the course of the week to see how my days had been going. We both mentioned that we were looking for something more serious at this point in our lives, so seemingly we were on the same page. But that night, inevitably the conversation turned sexual. Continue reading
I was 25 years old when I met the man I would eventually marry…and divorce 7 years later. I remember spending a lot of time in my late teens and early 20’s crying over random, loser guys and wondering if I would ever find the “one.” Truth be told, I would love to go back and punch that whiny girl in the face. If I knew then what I know now…let’s just say that heartache in early adulthood is a walk in the park compared to heartache at 35. I would give anything to go back to that time, that time before real life, real jobs, mortgages, and ex-husbands and just shake myself. I would love to tell my old self that the next 10 years were going to be quite trying and would test me in every way possible; that I would need to develop some thick skin and learn some better coping skills.
I haven’t had much luck when it comes to love (shocking, I know). Sure I’ve been in several long term relationships, and was even married for a little while, but I’ve never been able to make anything stick. Whether they left me, I left them, or we mutually agreed to split, the culminating result has always been the same – I always ended up being the last girl before they met THE girl. Continue reading
So, you’ve been single for awhile? Feeling a little down and out? Wondering why you keep finding yourself in one dead-end relationship after another; why every new guy who gets you a little excited and hopeful just ends up turning into another typical douchebag?
Well let me shoot it to you straight. It’s not you. You’re great (unless you’re not)! BUT, your game could definitely use some help. It’s possible that you are committing relationship sabotage and you don’t even know it. So with that in mind, here are some useful tips that may help prevent you from fucking up the next good thing that comes along:
There are two types of single women out there. Well ok, there are a lot more than two “types” of single women, but for the purpose of this blog I’m going to narrow it down to just two – single girl before 30 and single girl after 30, or B30 and A30. Both girls may be single at the exact same time, but they lead dramatically different lives.
I’ve spent some years being single both in my 20’s and in my 30’s, so I would consider myself to be an expert on this topic, and I can tell you that every time I hear a single girl in her 20’s complain about her singledom, I want to punch her in her throat.
These are the many ways that being single in your 20’s is a fucking cakewalk compared to being single in your 30’s: