I Was Random But Now I Am Found

So. I’ve already written about how fucking random the whole construct of online dating is and I still stand by what I said. It’s absolutely whack. I also outed myself as being all over the map pretty much allofthetime because odd. Highly. But. When it comes to the L word, I’m weirding out now because it’s one thing to not be able to trust a man but if I don’t know and can’t trust myself then wtf?

It all bubbled up to my consciousness only recently and suddenly Susan, though I’ve been POFing on and off for fucking YEARS. Blurgh #notthesharpestknife And I know exactly the moment as well...the Sunday that Danny 3.0 intersected with E. and I didn’t call the winner.

If you follow Lucy, you’ll know I wrote three separate times about Danny after literally only four dates. What. And they were long ass posts too, dude, full of “oh Danny sigh” this and “oh Danny sigh” that. I kid you not. I was lightly but definitely invested in what I felt had been the possibility of a good gig, relationship wise, and I couldn’t for the life of me shake it so I had to address it. Repeatedly.

Now, I used to write chronologically but as time passed, I began writing more and more in the present and when I do that, it’s me revealing myself with no hindsight or foregone conclusion. At. Fucking. All. Rather, I’m lifting up the hemline of my heart and psyche and soul and we’re peeking together as it happens.

You’re fine obvs; presumably, that reveal is why you read Lucy in the first place. I, however, am like OMFG at any given time because TMI #hello There used to be that commercial with the egg and the frypan and the voice says: “this is drugs.” Then he cracks the egg and he says: “this is your brain on drugs.” I look inside while I’m in the midst of it and I’m confounded. My egg is COMPLETELY scrambled. What. I make little or no sense – to me! - and yet my emotions are so certain and tangible at the time…or are they?


Here’s what happened: when I met Danny 3.0 midway through this year, I’d already been through Climbing Boy, Fable and fucking Bourbon St. with a few singletons along the way. I’d been unceremoniously dumped, sexually objectified and then actually insulted #gome I was tired as fuck with the whole POF shitshow and men in general. I was not expecting someone as sexy and simpatico as Danny to show up like ever let alone after that run of uncommonly good luck I’d just had. We talked eagerly and effortlessly. He was into meditation Work, he could kiss and he took me to Canadian Tire. Happily. I thought: Great fucking summer, come to mama!

But. Of course. It didn’t work out quite that way. OF COURSE. So I spent the summer alone – really no dating – deep in my Ingmar Bergman interior shot ness – and still so attached to Danny that I was of no use to anyone, least of all myself. But WAS it Danny or was it just my IDEA of him?

Because that’s the crux of this whole matter, isn’t it? Truly, how can one have a genuine attachment for someone after so short an acquaintance, naked or not? And by one oc I mean me, as per usual. And is it BECAUSE naked? Is it really that continuingly facile? Or am I just a canvas for the boy of the day?

I know that the whole BMX thing was a deadly combo of my hormones and his still to be matched prowess under the sheets #notfuckingkiddinghere And I know Spanky was all about sex as well. Both of them, like Danny, took a couple of MONTHS recovery time but they were in my first year when I was a veritable teenager and I cared sooo much about getting laid. Now that I’ve gone through several phases of complete disassociation from all of that carnality, how am I STILL so susceptible to physical chemistry that I’ll mistake it for an emotional connection? Am I THAT fucking arbitrary? Or have I been dating sooo long that I no longer know what is IRL and what’s only POF real?

And why is this important now?

Because E.

Of course.

So. Danny came back, as cats and my men do, in the same week I met E. and as I’d literally been dreaming about since he did his Houdini. I’d had a great first date with E. but it was only a first date. Against Danny! How could anyone win against my dream come true?

Long story short, when I met E. later that night for a drink, he won the day handily. At the worst time in his life which was a fucking mess, E. was not. Rather, he was just so present and enjoyable and alive. On this, the crucial second meet, our chemistry and conversation was again extraordinary and effortless. NO EFFORT #fuckingA So like, when you know, you know, amiright?

But here’s the fucking thing: I thought I knew about Danny! I was still Danny forward on only the fumes of our brief connection months ago like at LUNCH TIME. And yet by bedtime and no good night kiss from E., my heart was full on with another man. Next!

And I’ve been thinking to myself ever since: Self, you’re a terrible horrible shallow example of a human being.

Or am I?

Here’s the thing: mid writing this post, I talked it over with my new gf Lana and she just laughed and said: ME TOO.


Lana said she would be sooo into a guy and then in a heartbeat, he was dead to her and she was totally into Mr. Right in Front of Her #boom And she didn’t consider it to be a lack of character but rather more like a common rite of dating. We’re all out there having intense feels if we’re lucky but if it’s not serious and he’s not the One, we drop it like it’s fucking hot and yeah, onward POF soldiers.

All righty then.

I began this post with trepidation in my heart over my own lack of inherent character and the inability to discern infatuation from love. I’m ending it with enormous gratitude for the gf wisdom that constantly surrounds and supports me, allowing me a mirror untinged by brutal self-criticism. I may be as random as the day is fucking long but I’m still open and trying; I’m still willing to allow a spectrum of emotion within myself whether the man who inspires it is worthy or not. Because finally I understand I’M worth it…and that is fucking huge, dude.

One day I may meet more than the idea of the guy who has glue. Until then, I own my inadvertent haphazardness with pride because, as per usual, whoever I date, there I am – a constant work in progress striving to be whole. Go, me!

How stalwart are you? Do you think you know who you are and who you like and it does NOT change with the fucking weather or are you a “ mad crush mad crush mad crush aaaannndd DONE” kinda girl like I apparently am? Just curious. No judgement here at DWL because me. Hello.

xo Lucy