I, the general, am calling my troops home now…. Retreat and regroup! After the massive failure of the attempt to cross the river (mr. 43), and the extreme amount of casualties defending the west river bank (Mr. Wrong), I need a cease-fire….

Frankly, I am exhausted. How can I be exhausted from only having dealings with two men, you might ask. Well, to find those two men took a lot, and I mean a LOT of weeding out, on the dating site…  And mr. 43 was a hopeless case, which was tiring. And I don’t mean he wasn’t a little this, or too much of that, he was a complete disaster, in every way… Nothing like he had painted himself out to be on the dating site…

There wasn’t much emotion with mr. 43, so it’s not that. But it really made me doubt my own perception and ability to truly weed out the “rotten seeds”…

Then Mr. Wrong, you already know a lot about him, and that story. Well what you don’t know is that we did have a brief exchange again, just a couple of messages on the dating site. I then casually joked that if he would get “withdrawal symtoms”, he could check out my new photos I had put up on my site.

Seems he got withdrawal symtoms pretty quickly, cause he wrote back the same day, something along the lines of: “Wow, soooo beautiful and sexy! God, I so do not like that we live this far away from each other… “.

This little exchange worked in two ways: First I was happy about his comment (of course I had made sure I looked smashing in the photos!) Then, reality fell down like a roof tile from a skyscraper, down onto my head: He-is-not-here-nor-will-he-ever-be-And-him-complimenting-you-means-SHIT.

Christ on a stick! How can I be this stupid? How can I basically become infatuated with someone like that? Why couldn’t I just resist it, when we started chatting initially? Perhaps because he was the first man I have been attracted to in such a long time. It was like… it was impossible to resist. Which makes me feel pretty weak, stupid and like I haven’t leard anything at all, in the last few years. I am supposed to make sensible choices, at this age! God, I could slap myself, I am so angry with myself right now.

Anyway, after that exchange, things felt so bad, that I thought: Wow, I have to put a stop to this. Press pause. I was quickly approaching the Abyss of Bitterness, so it had to be done.

I wrote my final message to him on the dating site, and it went something like:

“So, I just wanted to say that I will probably not be online for a while here on the dating site. It just doesn’t really make sense for me to be here, since I am anyway basically just thinking of you, (inserted something like a combo between hottie/sweetie, in my language).

AND, I got even more stupid! (If that is even possible)… So, I continued:

“But, in the unlikely event that you need to reach me, perhaps you still have my number, so..  bye”.

I KNOW. I am the silliest person to walk this Earth, and please don’t bash me, I am bashing myself enough here already…

Oh well, what’s done is done, etc. Even though I cringe every time I think of him thinking of how into him I must have seemed… it doesn’t really matter, cause in my mind this was our last contact.

Not every stupid thing you do is a complete waste, though. I meant what I wrote, I do need a break from the dating site, (after him).  And in some ways, I think it is a good thing he knows the reason, that I really did like him very much, and so I am taking some time for myself, to deal with that. (Ie, just wait it out…). And I like the idea of him knowing “where I went”, instead of just being gone, suddenly.

I don’t know how it affects him knowing I’ll be gone from the site for a while (“because of him”), if he cares at all, if he shrugs, if it stings his heart a little, if he regrets anything. And I will probably never know. The one thing I can feel a little proud of is that I was braver than him, I was going to meet up with him, I was willing to risk my heart once more.

Uhm, I had also been hoping to experience… la petite mort, you know, that sweet “little death”, which I haven’t had in… well, ages. And I know he and I would have created fireworks, in that department!

Instead, I am experiencing another kind of la petite mort:

The Little Dating Death.