I think I'm an agnostic. Warning: Religious views ahead that you may disagree with.
Do you believe in the death penalty? For the sake of argument, let's say you don't. So now let's think of all the murders and rapists and terrorists just sitting in cells all day. We've agreed not to kill them, so how do you feel about torturing them? Day in and day out. They've done something bad, so they don't deserve to have it easy and it's not like they're going to die. So what's a little torture? Maybe break a few fingers, let them heal up and then break them again. Or ripping off finger nails, those grow back right? Chinese water torture? Anything goes as long as they don't die. I'll assume most people would disagree with the torture.
Now what if a family member did something bad? Your mom or your dad. Maybe a sibling or possibly your own child. Heck, it could even be your dog or cat. Even if it was really really bad I would think most people wouldn't want them subjected to torture on a daily basis.
Which is why I'm questioning religion. We are all God's children, he created us in his image, gave us life and all that, you would think that means we a fairly dear to him. If we aren't willing to torture really bad people, people we may even hate, how can we think he would send us to hell for something like homosexuality, coveting thy neighbour's wife or working on a Sunday? And I say torture because hell is for eternity, there is no sweet relief of death.
I don't think it matters whether you think there is or there isn't a God. I think you should be a good person and be kind to others because it's the right thing to do and it makes society easier to live in. Life is hard all on it's own, we shouldn't be trying to make it harder for anyone. Whatever you do, I would think that God would love you anyway. And if there isn't a God, then you left behind a functional world for future generations and I thank you for not inducing a terrifying apocalyptic world while I'm still on this earth.
Also, I'm pretty sure I'm already screwed in the heaven department. According to wikipedia one of the commandments says "You shall not bow down to them or worship them; for I the Lord your God am a jealous God, punishing children for the iniquity of parents, to the third and the fourth generation of those who reject me". So I'm out since my mom doesn't believe in God and I don't think my dad does either. In fact I'm pretty sure my dad thinks that a bunch of aliens put us here as a game, each alien betting on a different racial group to see who would come out on top. It's like an unbearably long game of Monopoly. The apocalypse will be when one of them gets fed up and throws the board across the room.
Thursday, August 18, 2011
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Weird Dream
Last night I had a weird dream. There was a woman who had about 15 dogs and named them all after movie stars. One of them was Mickey Rooney. She was showing me and someone else (it might have been Nice Guy??) this house and there was a room that was kind of like a horse barn except there were beds and pillows and mattresses in all the stalls for her dogs to sleep on. After that room whoever I was with and I went exploring on our own and found a little study, very old fashioned with bookshelves and a writing desk and dark green high back leather chairs. A door to the study opened up to what I think was her bedroom, but it was a very old fashioned and manly looking bedroom. Didn't really have any feminine touches. We left and went to another room which is where my dream actually gets weird. I think it's the dining room. The room is mostly floor to ceiling windows and a stained wood vaulted ceiling. There's a fireplace in the corner and a big table with 8 or 10 chairs around it. Then the floor is like patio stone with a race track pattern in it. Like if you moved the table, little kids could take their cars and play for hours on this race track made of stone. And the thing is, I've dreamt about this room/house before. Except the last time I dreamt about it, the house was totally empty of any furniture.
I've never seen this house before, but this is the second time I've dreamt about it and I can remember very specific details about it. I just feel very funny about it.
I've never seen this house before, but this is the second time I've dreamt about it and I can remember very specific details about it. I just feel very funny about it.
Sunday, August 14, 2011
Staying On The Bridge
I feel really good about this staying on the bridge thing. I had another awesome Saturday with Nice Guy. We took the dogs with us to the lake and did some fishing and some reading. Then we went to his parent's house and had dinner and played games with his brothers and parents. They're a very close knit family and you can just tell that they all love each other very much. It's a very happy positive environment.
I think that because I was so sure that I would always be with my Ex, and that clearly didn't work out, that I was afraid of not being sure with the next guy or being sure and being wrong again. I'm still afraid to be sure, like that's going to jinx me or something. But then I read this article and felt a whole lot better:
I was in college the night I met him. And even after all these years, the thing I remember most is the unexpected, very physical shiver that immediately ran up my spine when he looked at me. He's It, that shiver said.
We talked, we flirted, we had our first date two days later. I fell hard. I loved that he was sweet, but not saccharine. I loved that he was Jewish, but not too Jewish. I loved that he was a fan of Hot Tamales, the candy I ate by the truckload back then. And (OK, call me shallow) I loved that he was an Ivy League graduate.
Our odds were good: I was 20, he was 23, and we added up to the perfect couple. Except that after three years, as I was busy trying to drop the subtle hint that my ring size was 6 3/4, he was busy cheating on me. I found out, we broke up, and let's just say the next six months weren't pretty.
I'm still not sure what got to me the most: the rejection or the fact that I had truly believed, in my gut, that my boyfriend was The One. So if that first shiver, followed by a fabulous three-year relationship, wasn't the telltale sign, how does anyone ever know who's right for them in the long run?
Apparently, I'm not the only person who has struggled with this question. It came up again last summer, at my client Amy's wedding. I was seated at the "singles table," since brides often like to treat their unattached friends to my dating advice.
The woman next to me leaned over and whispered, "When Amy met Kurt, she told me she just knew it was right. When will I ever feel that way?"
I knew the answer she wanted to hear. By now I've coached thousands of singles on how to find love, and watched hundreds of clients and friends trot down the aisle. But what I wanted to tell her was, "Maybe never."
It wasn't that I didn't believe this woman would ever find the right guy. It was more that I feared she might never know he was the right guy. An hour earlier, sitting in the church, it struck me that what I was really witnessing was a crapshoot. Here was this couple at the altar, pledging their lives to each other.
And as happy as I was for them, I knew the truth: When you get married, all you can really do is roll the dice and hope for the best.
But everywhere I go, I meet smug married couples who love to relate the moment they "just knew" they'd found their life partners. As far as I'm concerned, it's revisionist history; if the marriage in question has worked out so far, they say they acted on their rock solid gut. But if it ended in divorce, they confess to earlier doubts.
To be frank, I don't believe anyone can really know this kind of information for sure—and I speak not just from my college relationship, or from all my years as a dating coach, but from reflecting back on my own 1992 wedding.
My jitters were epic, the kind that had my friends speculating on how long my marriage would last and the caterer reminding my mother that the deposit was strictly non-refundable.
An hour before my ceremony, I nearly collapsed. As the photographer snapped pictures, my smile was strained; I was terrified. My fiancé, Brad, and I had dated for two years and been engaged for one. We knew each other well. But did we know what the future would hold for us? Of course not.
"So let me get this straight," my brain was saying. "I'm supposed to decide today to be with one person for the rest of my life because, up until now, things have been great? Because, so far, I still love him?" This made no sense. I was tormented by what everyone had told me for years about marriage in general, and my fiancé in particular—the old "you'll just know" or "trust your gut."
Well, this time, I didn't know, and my gut had a bad stomachache.
So naturally, I took the path of any good drama queen: I dropped my bouquet, slumped into a nearby chair, and burst into tears.
Brad rushed over and shooed away the photographer. While he was aware that I'd had many doubts during the past year, he had none. My own hesitations, on the other hand, were quite serious; I'd even harbored a crush on another man during my engagement year. I'd confessed everything to Brad—I did love him, after all, and wanted our relationship to be honest.
But we were so different—opposites in too many ways. (More than one friend had observed that we were a lot like that Green Acres couple from the '70s: I was "Gimme Park Avenue" and he was "Farm Livin' Is the Life for Me.") How could it work, I wondered, when reality would inevitably come knocking? We loved each other—a lot, as it turned out. But what sane person could believe that love alone would pass the test of time, particularly when 50 percent of today's marriages end in divorce?
So there I was: big white dress, mascara running. "How can I say 'forever'?" I sobbed. "It's too long to commit to!" Brad took my hand. "How about this," he said gently, not even remotely offended. "Can you commit to being with me for one year?"
"Of course," I said, sniffling. "That's easy, but—" He interrupted me.
"Then let's take it one year at a time. Publicly, we'll say our vows, 'until death do us part.' But privately, we'll have our own little arrangement. Each year on our anniversary, I'll ask you if you want to renew. We'll do this a year at a time. Can you do that?" Overwhelmed by the generosity of his answer, I said that I could. And I did.
These days, my job is to help single men and women find the right mate—and it's never simple. No one is perfect. Everyone has baggage. And when they're in that last stage of dating, trying to decide whether or not to make it permanent, my clients usually ask for my opinion. Do I think they should marry this one? Sometimes I say yes, sometimes no. But the truth is, I have no idea.
Making that decision is like skydiving: It's a crazy thing to do if you think about it logically, but you pray that the ride down will be exhilarating and that you'll land on your feet. And in my experience, people take that leap of faith with naïve confidence.
Of course, some factors do seem to improve the odds—especially age. I see fewer unhappy couples among those who get married later in life, specifically after 35. This is largely because they're making the decision to marry with more life experience under their belts.
They're also committing to a fully formed person. Next comes personality. I've observed that opposites who complement each other often do very well. If you marry someone who's too similar—especially emotionally—you may wind up bored or in conflict.
Finally, try not to be judgmental right out of the gate. I often find that my clients have checklists founded on external, and not internal, traits. Why eliminate a potentially terrific guy because he's a few inches shorter than you'd ideally prefer? As a general rule, rigidity never pays.
But—and wouldn't love be easier if this weren't the case?—it's different for everyone. Back at that singles' table, I was immersed, as usual, in conversation about dating and marriage.
Everyone wanted to be a Knower. I lost track of the times I heard the words "The One," "Soul Mate," and "Mr. Right." I realized that the vocabulary these women used assumed that there was one right answer, and that the answer would be obvious when it arrived. I wanted to tell them—but didn't—that it's OK if they don't "just know," or if "Mr. Right" is "Mr. Probably."
Sometimes a marriage can be stronger if you have reservations. If your bond seems a little fragile, you take better care to preserve it.
The irony is not lost on me that my greatest fear—committing to someone forever—became the focus of my profession.
But I like to think I was meant to spread the word that it's OK to have doubts—even profound doubts—before saying "I do." And, as my own 14th wedding anniversary approaches, I know Brad's question will come once again.
Which brings me to the lovely part of this story: So far, things have worked out beautifully. Don't ask me how. He's really flexible; I'm really not.
I'm perceptive. Him? Not so much. But in a few weeks, when he asks me if I want to renew my vows for another year, I just know what my answer will be.
I think that because I was so sure that I would always be with my Ex, and that clearly didn't work out, that I was afraid of not being sure with the next guy or being sure and being wrong again. I'm still afraid to be sure, like that's going to jinx me or something. But then I read this article and felt a whole lot better:
How To Know If He's "The One"
I was in college the night I met him. And even after all these years, the thing I remember most is the unexpected, very physical shiver that immediately ran up my spine when he looked at me. He's It, that shiver said.
We talked, we flirted, we had our first date two days later. I fell hard. I loved that he was sweet, but not saccharine. I loved that he was Jewish, but not too Jewish. I loved that he was a fan of Hot Tamales, the candy I ate by the truckload back then. And (OK, call me shallow) I loved that he was an Ivy League graduate.
Our odds were good: I was 20, he was 23, and we added up to the perfect couple. Except that after three years, as I was busy trying to drop the subtle hint that my ring size was 6 3/4, he was busy cheating on me. I found out, we broke up, and let's just say the next six months weren't pretty.
I'm still not sure what got to me the most: the rejection or the fact that I had truly believed, in my gut, that my boyfriend was The One. So if that first shiver, followed by a fabulous three-year relationship, wasn't the telltale sign, how does anyone ever know who's right for them in the long run?
Apparently, I'm not the only person who has struggled with this question. It came up again last summer, at my client Amy's wedding. I was seated at the "singles table," since brides often like to treat their unattached friends to my dating advice.
The woman next to me leaned over and whispered, "When Amy met Kurt, she told me she just knew it was right. When will I ever feel that way?"
I knew the answer she wanted to hear. By now I've coached thousands of singles on how to find love, and watched hundreds of clients and friends trot down the aisle. But what I wanted to tell her was, "Maybe never."
It wasn't that I didn't believe this woman would ever find the right guy. It was more that I feared she might never know he was the right guy. An hour earlier, sitting in the church, it struck me that what I was really witnessing was a crapshoot. Here was this couple at the altar, pledging their lives to each other.
And as happy as I was for them, I knew the truth: When you get married, all you can really do is roll the dice and hope for the best.
But everywhere I go, I meet smug married couples who love to relate the moment they "just knew" they'd found their life partners. As far as I'm concerned, it's revisionist history; if the marriage in question has worked out so far, they say they acted on their rock solid gut. But if it ended in divorce, they confess to earlier doubts.
To be frank, I don't believe anyone can really know this kind of information for sure—and I speak not just from my college relationship, or from all my years as a dating coach, but from reflecting back on my own 1992 wedding.
My jitters were epic, the kind that had my friends speculating on how long my marriage would last and the caterer reminding my mother that the deposit was strictly non-refundable.
An hour before my ceremony, I nearly collapsed. As the photographer snapped pictures, my smile was strained; I was terrified. My fiancé, Brad, and I had dated for two years and been engaged for one. We knew each other well. But did we know what the future would hold for us? Of course not.
"So let me get this straight," my brain was saying. "I'm supposed to decide today to be with one person for the rest of my life because, up until now, things have been great? Because, so far, I still love him?" This made no sense. I was tormented by what everyone had told me for years about marriage in general, and my fiancé in particular—the old "you'll just know" or "trust your gut."
Well, this time, I didn't know, and my gut had a bad stomachache.
So naturally, I took the path of any good drama queen: I dropped my bouquet, slumped into a nearby chair, and burst into tears.
Brad rushed over and shooed away the photographer. While he was aware that I'd had many doubts during the past year, he had none. My own hesitations, on the other hand, were quite serious; I'd even harbored a crush on another man during my engagement year. I'd confessed everything to Brad—I did love him, after all, and wanted our relationship to be honest.
But we were so different—opposites in too many ways. (More than one friend had observed that we were a lot like that Green Acres couple from the '70s: I was "Gimme Park Avenue" and he was "Farm Livin' Is the Life for Me.") How could it work, I wondered, when reality would inevitably come knocking? We loved each other—a lot, as it turned out. But what sane person could believe that love alone would pass the test of time, particularly when 50 percent of today's marriages end in divorce?
So there I was: big white dress, mascara running. "How can I say 'forever'?" I sobbed. "It's too long to commit to!" Brad took my hand. "How about this," he said gently, not even remotely offended. "Can you commit to being with me for one year?"
"Of course," I said, sniffling. "That's easy, but—" He interrupted me.
"Then let's take it one year at a time. Publicly, we'll say our vows, 'until death do us part.' But privately, we'll have our own little arrangement. Each year on our anniversary, I'll ask you if you want to renew. We'll do this a year at a time. Can you do that?" Overwhelmed by the generosity of his answer, I said that I could. And I did.
These days, my job is to help single men and women find the right mate—and it's never simple. No one is perfect. Everyone has baggage. And when they're in that last stage of dating, trying to decide whether or not to make it permanent, my clients usually ask for my opinion. Do I think they should marry this one? Sometimes I say yes, sometimes no. But the truth is, I have no idea.
Making that decision is like skydiving: It's a crazy thing to do if you think about it logically, but you pray that the ride down will be exhilarating and that you'll land on your feet. And in my experience, people take that leap of faith with naïve confidence.
Of course, some factors do seem to improve the odds—especially age. I see fewer unhappy couples among those who get married later in life, specifically after 35. This is largely because they're making the decision to marry with more life experience under their belts.
They're also committing to a fully formed person. Next comes personality. I've observed that opposites who complement each other often do very well. If you marry someone who's too similar—especially emotionally—you may wind up bored or in conflict.
Finally, try not to be judgmental right out of the gate. I often find that my clients have checklists founded on external, and not internal, traits. Why eliminate a potentially terrific guy because he's a few inches shorter than you'd ideally prefer? As a general rule, rigidity never pays.
But—and wouldn't love be easier if this weren't the case?—it's different for everyone. Back at that singles' table, I was immersed, as usual, in conversation about dating and marriage.
Everyone wanted to be a Knower. I lost track of the times I heard the words "The One," "Soul Mate," and "Mr. Right." I realized that the vocabulary these women used assumed that there was one right answer, and that the answer would be obvious when it arrived. I wanted to tell them—but didn't—that it's OK if they don't "just know," or if "Mr. Right" is "Mr. Probably."
Sometimes a marriage can be stronger if you have reservations. If your bond seems a little fragile, you take better care to preserve it.
The irony is not lost on me that my greatest fear—committing to someone forever—became the focus of my profession.
But I like to think I was meant to spread the word that it's OK to have doubts—even profound doubts—before saying "I do." And, as my own 14th wedding anniversary approaches, I know Brad's question will come once again.
Which brings me to the lovely part of this story: So far, things have worked out beautifully. Don't ask me how. He's really flexible; I'm really not.
I'm perceptive. Him? Not so much. But in a few weeks, when he asks me if I want to renew my vows for another year, I just know what my answer will be.
Thursday, August 11, 2011
Heart Necklace
Here's some advice for the single folks: If a girl is wearing a heart shaped necklace, it was given to her by a guy and she is either with that person or isn't over whoever gave it to her.
Try it out yourself. Tell your friend or some stranger that you like her necklace. Then ask if her boyfriend/husband gave it to her. So far, every time I've tried this it's been yes. Which makes sense because I don't see why any girl would buy herself a heart shaped necklace. It's even been true for me.
For a variety of reasons, even though I knew things weren't going to work out with my Ex, we lived together for a few months and still pretended that things were okay. Except I wasn't terribly good at pretending. I wore my heart shaped necklace for a little while and then I stopped wearing it altogether. One day he asked me why I don't wear it anymore and I told him it didn't mean what it used to, and it made me sad to wear it. When he gave it to me he told me it was so I would know I'd always have a piece of his heart with me. Which I doubt still applies. However my mother always told me to never put it in writing and always keep the jewellery. So if I ever come upon hard times I plan on pawning it for cash.
So there's your lesson for today, if you're trying to pick up stay away from the heart necklaces.
Try it out yourself. Tell your friend or some stranger that you like her necklace. Then ask if her boyfriend/husband gave it to her. So far, every time I've tried this it's been yes. Which makes sense because I don't see why any girl would buy herself a heart shaped necklace. It's even been true for me.
For a variety of reasons, even though I knew things weren't going to work out with my Ex, we lived together for a few months and still pretended that things were okay. Except I wasn't terribly good at pretending. I wore my heart shaped necklace for a little while and then I stopped wearing it altogether. One day he asked me why I don't wear it anymore and I told him it didn't mean what it used to, and it made me sad to wear it. When he gave it to me he told me it was so I would know I'd always have a piece of his heart with me. Which I doubt still applies. However my mother always told me to never put it in writing and always keep the jewellery. So if I ever come upon hard times I plan on pawning it for cash.
So there's your lesson for today, if you're trying to pick up stay away from the heart necklaces.
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
Fiction vs Reality
Love is passion, obsession, someone you can't live without. If you don't start with that, what are you going to end up with? Fall head over heels. I say find someone you can love like crazy and who'll love you the same way back. And how do you find him? Forget your head and listen to your heart.
~Meet Joe Black
I am nothing special; just a common man with common thoughts, and I've led a common life. There are no monuments dedicated to me and my name will soon be forgotten. But in one respect I have succeeded as gloriously as anyone who's ever lived: I've loved another with all my heart and soul; and to me, this has always been enough.
~The Notebook
I'd ask you about love, you'd probably quote me a sonnet. But you've never looked at a woman and been totally vulnerable. Known someone that could level you with her eyes, feeling like God put an angel on earth just for you. Who could rescue you from the depths of hell. And you wouldn't know what it's like to be her angel, to have that love for her, be there forever, through anything, through cancer. And you wouldn't know about sleeping sitting up in the hospital room for two months, holding her hand, because the doctors could see in your eyes, that the terms "visiting hours" don't apply to you. You don't know about real loss, 'cause it only occurs when you've loved something more than you love yourself. And I doubt you've ever dared to love anybody that much.
~Good Will Hunting
Me? I'm scared of everything. I'm scared of what I saw, I'm scared of what I did, of who I am, and most of all I'm scared of walking out of this room and never feeling the rest of my whole life the way I feel when I'm with you.
~Dirty Dancing
These are my favourite movie quotes. These are what I thought I had with my Ex. But it just didn't work out, and it's nobody's fault. Now I'm missing the passion and intensity that I once had. I talked to my sister tonight about my doubts about Nice Guy and she told me I deserved butterflies and goosebumps. That if I wasn't feeling it then it was as simple as that. She thinks I should just stand still for a while, keep the relationship where it is. I shouldn't cross the bridge but I shouldn't burn it either. So I guess I'll leave it at that. The only thing is I really hate hurting people, and I know Nice Guy has fallen hard for me so if this doesn't work out I'm going to feel terrible.
Monday, August 8, 2011
Awesome Day
I'm feeling better about the doubts I had before. Every time I'm with Nice Guy I'm so peacefully happy. Yesterday, he made me blueberry crepes from scratch for breakfast and then we went to this old church that only has a service once a month. It doesn't have electricity or running water so they heat it with a wood stove and bring buckets of water in when they have a service for coffee and tea afterwards. It was really cute.
Then we went fishing in a river and I got some amazing pictures, there was even a little waterfall/spring thing. We had a picnic there and he had made fried chicken from scratch the night before with garden salad and cherries and even brought wine glasses for bubbly juice. He makes a really cute face when he's fishing, like he's thinking hard about catching the fish, which is harder in rivers because you aren't allowed to use bait.
Then we went to a little lake to fish since it was a stocked lake and you're allowed to use bait. So he let me cast a couple times and I mostly laid on the blanket and read a book and he would come sit with me and talk as he waited for the bell on his line to ring. It was just a really good day.
When I got home last night I get a text from him saying "Just wanted you to know... you really are my "sunny day". So glad your mine :) Thanks for today". We both sing along to country songs in the car. And he really likes holding my hand. So for now I'm really happy. We'll see if my doubts come back after my high wears off...
Then we went fishing in a river and I got some amazing pictures, there was even a little waterfall/spring thing. We had a picnic there and he had made fried chicken from scratch the night before with garden salad and cherries and even brought wine glasses for bubbly juice. He makes a really cute face when he's fishing, like he's thinking hard about catching the fish, which is harder in rivers because you aren't allowed to use bait.
Then we went to a little lake to fish since it was a stocked lake and you're allowed to use bait. So he let me cast a couple times and I mostly laid on the blanket and read a book and he would come sit with me and talk as he waited for the bell on his line to ring. It was just a really good day.
When I got home last night I get a text from him saying "Just wanted you to know... you really are my "sunny day". So glad your mine :) Thanks for today". We both sing along to country songs in the car. And he really likes holding my hand. So for now I'm really happy. We'll see if my doubts come back after my high wears off...
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
Jaded Butterflies
I don't know what's wrong with me. I'm not sure if I'm not really over my ex, or I've just grown up and become more cynical or if it's him but I just don't feel any butterflies. Let's start with the past...
I was absolutely positively sure that I loved my ex, he loved me and we were going to take on the world together. That thinking was what got me through tough times during school, because even if I failed, someone would have my back and we would work something out. Just knowing that it was going to be okay even if I did fail, let me get really good grades and a degree since I didn't psych myself out and choke during the important parts. I like having a safety net and sort of a worse case scenario go through my head before I attempt something hard. It's just the way I am. So I through myself into that relationship. I realize now that I lost or hid some parts of myself in order to make things fit but in all honesty, I remember being totally and completely happy. Fully content and peaceful and secure and everything good. I was totally in love. And then we broke up and everything I believed in pretty much blew up in my face. And as of right now, I don't know if I can put that level of trust in someone again, and if I can't trust them, how can I love them?
So let's talk about now and the Nice Guy.
~He likes it when I sing along to the radio (no one likes it when I do this, especially not repeatedly; I'm not very good).
~His friends keep telling me how lucky I am because he's such a nice guy and everybody really likes him, but he tells me he thinks he's the lucky one because I gave him a second chance and he's never been this happy. He also says he felt like something was missing in his life and now he doesn't feel that way anymore.
~He's affectionate, which I love. My ex was pretty much all against PDA but the Nice Guy will hold my hand and kiss me in public.
~He has a dog that gets along with my dog, and he likes my dog a lot (Bonus Points!). And he has other animals on his farm, and I always thought I'd be a farm girl. Plus he named a chicken for me. I also named his ducks.
~His family likes me and is nice to me, my ex's mom never liked me. She thought I was stuck up because the first time I met her I didn't say much. But she's not very friendly and I was really intimidated and shy and it was in high school. So since I couldn't think of anything to say, I chose to say nothing. But that's water under the bridge.
~His financially mature, doesn't waste his money on stupid things nor is he in really bad debt. He pays his credit card off on time.
~He has a job that he loves, so while a couple people at work are a little annoying he's not really a complainer.
~He has a nice body and he's attentive in bed. This next part I'm not going to like saying though. He's not as good as my ex but I'm hoping he'll get there. My ex could tell just from the way I was breathing whether I really liked something or not. I'm hoping that's just a "how well you know the person" thing. Plus Nice Guy was a virgin when we started dating and he can still get me off, it's just not with fireworks. I'll say this though, he won't go unless I've gone first. Which is pretty impressive for a virgin.
~He wants to go places with me. I don't have to beg him to dance with me. He's a "Yes" guy and I tend to be a "Yes" girl. Which could be a little troublesome because this whole month we've been dating has felt like a whirlwind since we're always going places and seeing people. I don't think we've had one day where it's just been us. Probably need to work on that because I've been tired lately.
~He's nice to his mom and grandma. Which everyone says is a good sign he'll be good to a girlfriend/wife.
~He wants a couple kids. Part of the reason I broke up with my ex was because he was absolutely positive he never wanted kids. So this is a pretty key feature. Plus we like the same name (I know it's really early to be talking about kids but it just kind of came up while we were watching a movie and I said I liked that name and he said he really did too and was hoping to name one of the kids that...)
So all of those are good things and I'm sure there are more. And I really really like him. I think he's fantastic. But I have no butterflies. If I don't see him for a few days, I'm totally fine. I don't "miss" him while he's gone. I don't know if I'm just more independent now or I've become more confident in myself. Maybe this is good and it means I can be with someone because I choose to be with them and not because I'm afraid to be without them. Still... I miss the butterflies.
I was absolutely positively sure that I loved my ex, he loved me and we were going to take on the world together. That thinking was what got me through tough times during school, because even if I failed, someone would have my back and we would work something out. Just knowing that it was going to be okay even if I did fail, let me get really good grades and a degree since I didn't psych myself out and choke during the important parts. I like having a safety net and sort of a worse case scenario go through my head before I attempt something hard. It's just the way I am. So I through myself into that relationship. I realize now that I lost or hid some parts of myself in order to make things fit but in all honesty, I remember being totally and completely happy. Fully content and peaceful and secure and everything good. I was totally in love. And then we broke up and everything I believed in pretty much blew up in my face. And as of right now, I don't know if I can put that level of trust in someone again, and if I can't trust them, how can I love them?
So let's talk about now and the Nice Guy.
~He likes it when I sing along to the radio (no one likes it when I do this, especially not repeatedly; I'm not very good).
~His friends keep telling me how lucky I am because he's such a nice guy and everybody really likes him, but he tells me he thinks he's the lucky one because I gave him a second chance and he's never been this happy. He also says he felt like something was missing in his life and now he doesn't feel that way anymore.
~He's affectionate, which I love. My ex was pretty much all against PDA but the Nice Guy will hold my hand and kiss me in public.
~He has a dog that gets along with my dog, and he likes my dog a lot (Bonus Points!). And he has other animals on his farm, and I always thought I'd be a farm girl. Plus he named a chicken for me. I also named his ducks.
~His family likes me and is nice to me, my ex's mom never liked me. She thought I was stuck up because the first time I met her I didn't say much. But she's not very friendly and I was really intimidated and shy and it was in high school. So since I couldn't think of anything to say, I chose to say nothing. But that's water under the bridge.
~His financially mature, doesn't waste his money on stupid things nor is he in really bad debt. He pays his credit card off on time.
~He has a job that he loves, so while a couple people at work are a little annoying he's not really a complainer.
~He has a nice body and he's attentive in bed. This next part I'm not going to like saying though. He's not as good as my ex but I'm hoping he'll get there. My ex could tell just from the way I was breathing whether I really liked something or not. I'm hoping that's just a "how well you know the person" thing. Plus Nice Guy was a virgin when we started dating and he can still get me off, it's just not with fireworks. I'll say this though, he won't go unless I've gone first. Which is pretty impressive for a virgin.
~He wants to go places with me. I don't have to beg him to dance with me. He's a "Yes" guy and I tend to be a "Yes" girl. Which could be a little troublesome because this whole month we've been dating has felt like a whirlwind since we're always going places and seeing people. I don't think we've had one day where it's just been us. Probably need to work on that because I've been tired lately.
~He's nice to his mom and grandma. Which everyone says is a good sign he'll be good to a girlfriend/wife.
~He wants a couple kids. Part of the reason I broke up with my ex was because he was absolutely positive he never wanted kids. So this is a pretty key feature. Plus we like the same name (I know it's really early to be talking about kids but it just kind of came up while we were watching a movie and I said I liked that name and he said he really did too and was hoping to name one of the kids that...)
So all of those are good things and I'm sure there are more. And I really really like him. I think he's fantastic. But I have no butterflies. If I don't see him for a few days, I'm totally fine. I don't "miss" him while he's gone. I don't know if I'm just more independent now or I've become more confident in myself. Maybe this is good and it means I can be with someone because I choose to be with them and not because I'm afraid to be without them. Still... I miss the butterflies.
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