When I write a post in real time versus years later with the keen eye of hind sight, it’s a whole other like out of body experience, dude. Just saying. Because I’m telling you as it happens and really? Who can make this fucking shit up? #notmeman
So. This is my rumination about the approximate 80% return rate of men I’ve spent any amount of time with as well as the final installation of my Danny 3.0 tryptic. Oh, how apropos.
Here’s the deal: when I wrote about my bounce back ratio with men I’d said no thank you to after the first date to no fucking avail, I didn’t really think about its corollary – the men I’d said yes please to once upon a time and how often they reappear. I’m not sure why. Maybe it just hadn’t really sunk in but now it’s clear that, like the tag line for the latest Avengers sequel, they pretty much all return #what
It was when I was both waiting for Danny to completely leave my consciousness and at the same time to hear from him. I just had a feeling it wasn’t over over. Then I realized exactly why I was being so fucking weird: because THEY COME BACK. Maybe not fully. Maybe not all of them. But.
My first and wtf example? BMfuckingX. If you’ve read any of my posts about him, you’re like WHAT. I’m like I KNOW! Six months after we first met/ four months after I finally accepted that he was GWTW, I get this text in the middle of the night:
“Hey, weirdo.” That was my nickname for him. Oc.
Well, you’ve fucking GOTTA know how gutted that made me feel. Like arrrggghhh. But you know what? I just looked at it and looked at it then I left it. I never replied because why? And honestly, it’s one of my shining POF moments to this day, dude #notkidding
Then there was Daniel who messaged me six weeks after he pulled his disappearing act, saying he missed me. Spanky also messaged me again. More than once. From the "future" post wise, Fable kept trying to boomerang back and Climbing Boy also had his regrets: "I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately. You were the best thing about POF. How are you?"
Which then segued into a brief reconnection. Oc.
I have NOT and WILL not hear from Christopher because, well he’s Christopher - Mr. Damaged/ Serial Monogamous/ Hit It & Gone Guy. Nor will Scotty ever return. Thank God.
Add up all those guys PLUS the ones I tried to get rid of the first time and it’s a fucking wonder I have the time to meet anyone I haven’t actually met already. How fucked up is THAT?
And I have no idea why. I mean, I guess because me but then it never takes because them/ because us. So. That. In other words, all those second chances have only illuminated why they didn't work in the first place.
Finally, with my latest return for deposit guy, I’m at the end of the Danny 3.0 saga that’s been unspooling recently, ripped from the headlines of my dating life. I wrote about how he was my favourite trifecta then how I still wasn’t over over him though I hadn’t once texted him to say that – TTFL. So I waited. And waited. Two months passed and I was like: Okay, just fucking LET IT GO. One week after that, I was at the end of an unsuccessful second date when I saw the notification and his profile name. I went completely still, gobsmacked. Then I had to, out of politeness, spend another hour walking and “talking” with my date while every thirty seconds or so “Danny!” would burst into my brain like a firecracker. Yup. I was fair verklempt.
Wanna try hanging out again one of these days? I don’t wanna bullshit you either – I’m mad busy these days and still doing the going away thing. I was wondering if you’d be into do the super casual thing? Since that was super fun. At least for me.
So. The man in whose absence my heart had gone to mush for was finally back and hitting me up for a FWB sitch. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, be flattered or furious. I DID know I was absolutely going to see him because, regardless of the outcome, I had to see if Danny was actually who I was remembering and if we were still as easy together as that fucking Sunday morning I’d been dreaming about all this time.
It’ll be lovely to see you.
Yes, it’ll be good to see you. We ended so weird.
I didn’t like how it ended, Danny.
Danny at my doorstep was instantly normal as in just our fifth date…two+ months later, though I had forgotten how uber sexy he was. Holy wow. But he was still just Danny and there was neither an emotional epiphany nor resolution when I laid eyes on him, just pleasure. After all that time of wanting him sooo badly, I had him again at arms’ length and it felt ordinary. Huh.
We had a casual brunch, catching up; I saved all the hard questions for when we went back to mine. It turns out the reason he bailed was because of the STD scare he had right after date 4 and he freaked. It was DEHYDRATION not my fucking age, dude.
Long story short, we got naked and it was lovely but not in a heart breaking way. At ALL. In fact, even before our q and a, I felt relieved of all my tortuous feelings and after cuddling with Danny, I was left with only warm regard. Sure, he acted like a dick. Sure, it’s not how I imagined he’d come back or how it’d go. But. As far as POF resolutions go, this one was a fucking treat. Literally.
Will I see Danny again? Well, we have another brunch and shag date for this Sunday but since we both agreed I should keep dating, I’m on my way to date 4 in eight days with Oppenheimer who hasn’t even tried to KISS me yet. Eeks.
ps Well, Danny 3.0 went random on me, breaking our second “brunch” date and never contacting me again. Am I sad? Honestly, no. I spent the next three weeks/ twelve dates with Oppenheimer aka Edith aka E. and it was #thebestever Well. Until he went home. To the U.S. of A. But that’s a whole fucking other post. Sigh.
Have you had a Danny aka someone you would theoretically write almost as many posts about as dates you had? hahaha Please share your temporary obsessions here at Date with Little Ol' Me because random and ridiculous #always