Mr. Fine Lines is a guy that I thought was special since he picked me over my bestie through Snapchat. He kept contact throughout the course of three homes I packed and unpacked through and through 2 1/2 boyfriends. Sidebar: It's not that "the 1/2" was half a man but, he was someone I was kind of serious about but declined his request to become his girlfriend. He was fine being in the background because he values his freedom more than his space; for him, they are not interchangeable. He wants his space to be consumed with bright screens, clouds of smoke, materialism, ammunition for verbal and physical jousts, and mentions of wanting a family. The freedom is for the freaking. He was a strategist, apparent in his use of words and applications of compliments. He alludes to you being the "perfect woman" but, never the perfect woman for him. It's irrelevant if I thought we were compatible. Which, since I'm pouring this out... I didn't, point blank. The timing was "just right," revealing "just the right amount" of what-you-wanna-hear while spooling the mystery. He never revealed too much, yet talked quite a bit-- especially leading up to the trip where he flew into my space, head, and fears. In the countdown of the 2 weeks prior to him landing in Dallas, he strategized the physical aspect of our anticipated time together. After our first encounter, he revealed that he seldom speaks to girls that sleep with him on the first date. The double standard that he relayed through the phone enraged me and quite frankly, should have ceased future efforts. I rebuttled with, "Shhyeah, like you weren't naked pressed against me. You wouldn't have stopped me if we did it." "Probably not, but how am I to know that girl doesn't sleep with other guys on the first date?" Rolling my eyes, I must have suppressed that red flag wrapped conversation because I entertained not one but two flights for our second encounter/date/rendezvous. The first one, I canceled because of Covid and another lust-interest that was pursuing me HARD. He even went as far to make a bet with me of who would give-in first to sex. YUP, for $50. So much for reserving bets for noble steeds. Am I so naive to scroll past the painfully sexual text messages to see what I wanted to hear and ONLY what I wanted to hear? Like the card game, I'm gonna call BS on ALL of it.You teased me with words like:
Your finale wouldn't be complete without:
His actions conveyed he dreaded a relationship with me since my plans, like most living in this pandemic, are not etched in ink. This is contrary to his words in a prior conversation about an ex-interest of mine that has now deemed himself pan-sexual. Mr. Fine Line got slightly heated and used choice words about such an arrangement. He stressed that it should be just you and your person. Then, in person, he exhibited macho status when Since he was all about things being "just right" and him "not wanting to share" yet he could be active on dating apps In no effort to be ironic, his dessert is a British breakfast and he is the closest person to Ron Swanson I've ever met. I give you, like the 3 home-cooked meals I gave him with not as much as a "thx bro," |
Culture is another delectable part of visiting an unfamiliar city. One of my favorite places is Toledo, Spain. It was inhabited by the Romans and then taken over by Iberians and then captured by The Spanish. You can see all the different influences across the city and heavily in the architecture. Toledo, Spain is actually where the phrase "holy Toledo" came from because it's considered one of the holiest cities in Europe. It symbolizes Roman Catholicism, Muslim, and Judaism. |
"Put a fork in me, I'm done!"
I'm going to continue to write and travel but fork dating for the rest of 2020~
With your Ivory fingers on the tweezers,
Your red lips are a thin line touring the connector box.
The power source is a perfect formulation of numbers.
Numbers so tightly wound,
Their sparks of electricity bring vulnerability.
I don't slight you from holding that back.
Our relationship would be a disaster so,
It only reinforces your surface interaction.
I fell right between the lines, so you could leave me for dead.
Learn from DatesandCakes, you're NOT an option, you're the solution-- hell, you may well be the purpose. You're the fire and the fight that makes it all worth it. You're to be pursued and wooed. You're the warmth that is otherwise unattainable. You are valued, cherished, treasured, and damn well are enough.
Thrilled by it all, the initial invitation into my life,
the alleged unique connection, and the tension.
I tiptoe on coals as to not burn the entirety of my sole.
The touch is inevitable and intentional...
But never quite sensual.
Maybe for a moment, but it fades like paint on a front door.
The compliments are currency and my time scenes expendable.
Investing in the wrong interests and compliments.
Even the radio blurts this message:
"Am I only a lab rat? Something you can test things out?" ~Dissolve
"What's the difference between broken love in prison?" Scumbag
It's not that I needed to feel someone to feel something... Or maybe it was. Reconnecting with an old Flame with his knowledge of everything that's going on is still more than a mutual swipe after closing time.
I'm drawn to connections that don't require a tower signal or battery to illuminate the topics discussed. I long to be selected-- for someone to say, "I NEED to know more about that ____." And eventually formulate the conclusion that he also needs that spunky person in their life.
He didn't need liquid courage to approach me, or the pressure to "lock someone down" by last call. Even the hope of starting a story at a bar became bleak when pandemic lock-downs were mandated.
The simplicity, but possibilities a night out offers seemed so distant from March to June across the country.
A dark desperation spread across the single world of inconsistent daters and many of us grasped pens and the hope left to write a dating story. Not one for love, and God knows not one forever, but a story; a connection with someone when it wasn't permitted naturally for the unforeseeable future.
I entertained:
- guys more than 3 years younger than me
- only guys residing 1+ hour away geographically but emotionally, zones away
- guys with no hobbies in common INCLUDING music taste for all but one
Refusal to be left behind.
Refusal to not be capable of my full potential.
Reusual for final submission — admitting defeat to spontinuity.
This writer is going places alone and for those that refunded their ticket, they'll quickly learn, this companion will be hard extremely hard to replace.
Open-Minded Watermelon Cake
- 1.5 x portions of Yos Pink Velvet Cake
- 1 batch of Yo's Italian Meringue Buttercream
- Red Red Icing Color
- 2 cup semi-sweet chocolate chips (divided)
- 4 drops of watermelon extract
- 4lbs White Fondant
- Moss Green Icing Color
- Kelly Green Icing Color
- Buttercup Yellow Icing Color
- Ivory Icing Color
- Watermelon (used as a model)
https://howtocakeit.com/blogs/recipes/watermelon-cake
Author
Chef Steph cooking up trouble. If she can't find anything real, she bakes real good sweets. Chocolate really may mend a broken heart...
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