Odds & Ends

Some interesting food for thought on divorce and remarry:
To the Shire and Back again(?)

I'm having ****** with a buddy and some mutual acquaintances.
I don't pay the girls much mind because lately I just.....I don't know.
The married one whose husband is not there stares and seeks male affirmation.
She looks slightly too long in my eyes each time conversation crosses between us.
It's enough to make me uncomfortable.
I don't know how long she's been married, but she reminds me of Lord Henry Wotton in The Picture of Dorian Gray b/c she has succeeded only "in looking untidy".
She could be cute, but she's getting some more than ignorable pudge over stomach and what would have been decent tits looks smaller now as they come to rest on this pooch.

At any rate, there's a pleading behind her eyes, a nervousness, perhaps b/c she's lonely, he ignores her (I was that husband for quite sometime), and I see the sadness, every so hinted.

The girl next to me actually turns out to be pretty cool. I freeze them out first, unwilling to cross the conversational rubicon and let their curiousity defeat them first b/c I genuinely don't care for or desire female "friends" and b/c I'm just feeling difficult and out of sorts.

The ice melts and I begin talking to them, one proceeds quickly as she loosens up a bit with alcohol to touch my arm (but not before she gives me a hard time about my tattoos and something else I can't recall). So predictable. I don't really answer the questions and if I do it's a terse response as though I've had to answer that question too many times, with an almost petulant air to their question based on my response.

Her friend is that cool girl in the group, the cool friend, who clearly has some super emotional baggage about a man lurking somewhere which she hides by virtually never having an actual relationship in the time span of anyone who knows her.
On paper, everything is fine, but lurking underneath is some deep-seated resentment toward a man or missed opportunity of "the one".
She's the first girl I've met in ages capable of having a substantive conversation about something other than her twitter or magazines.

One girl gets too drunk and it's a shame because she's got a little bit of the Marilyn look to her and were she not plastered I'd have given chase. There was something ingratiatingly soft and effeminate about her when you looked closely.

Let's close with the reality that I find myself emotionally hesitant to cross the rubicon, shy almost.
I clearly have some blockage as of late, and I'm going to have to just jump in the deep end of the pool and embrace the shock as I get back in the saddle.

Time to hoist the black flag anon.
Good luck and happy hunting,
       - Yrs. in Christ



The Oldest Trick in the Book:




Even nerds who make LEGO movies recognize the realities of the friendzone: