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So I’m a SWF, more than 30, but less than 35 and I am beginning to think I’m losing it. Now that I’m in my early 30s, does dating have to suck or did it suck all through my 20s and I just didn’t notice or care?
My last boyfriend broke up with me a few months back and upon reflection, it seems to have been a blessing in disguise. However, a blow to the ego is still tough to take. So I do the traditional get-drunk-and-hook-up-with-some-random-guy-in-a-bar, but being raised a nice Catholic girl, there’s a lot of groping but no sex. I have this stupid, old-fashioned fixation on my # of partners (7) that keeps me from giving in.
So what’s a girl with a healthy sex drive to do? Well, there’s that old boyfriend, the one who’s still interested. We meet up and somehow end up having crazy, porno sex for hours – unfortunately that’s because it never does the trick – no orgasm. Damn. So I decide that maybe what I really need is a confidence boost.
At the suggestion of a friend, I do the online dating thing. I meet this guy, and he’s cute and smart and sexy and there is definitely some chemistry – as in by the third date I just want to rip his clothes off. Usually I’m much more cynical and cautious, but I just kind of fall into this one. Things go much faster than I’m used to – he introduces me to his friends, for pete’s sake - and after only two weeks we almost have sex (if we’d had condoms, we would have). I wake up feeling somehow disenchanted and sure enough, later that day, I note that after a short hiatus, he’s updated is fucking profile. I know, I know - it's not like we're dating or anything - there's been no exclusivity discussion but I usually operate under the "don't ask, don't tell" policy, this whole online dating thing kind of forces it in my face. And besides, I thought that was a pretty good blow job. He does call me however “just to say hi”, making me wonder what to do about him. I’m willing to bet he’s great in bed, and well, isn’t that what god created players for – great, fun sex? But then again, there’s that whole numbers thing…
Either way, the old boyfriend calls that night and wants to meet up the next day – go hiking or something. Sure, hiking. So we spend the day together, which is nice as all of my friends are out of town and I’m bored and lonely and wondering why we don’t just get back together b/c maybe I need to just give up and accept the fact that I’m not getting any younger and eventually my dating life will taper off and maybe I don't want to be 40 and alone. Then we go back to my place to watch a movie and he gets all cuddly, which is ok at first. Then it goes to kissing and his breath is god awful. Just to add icing on the cake, he notices that hesitant look in my eye and responds by saying, “What’s the matter? What do you want? Do you want some COCK?” Uh, no. I might have before you were breathing your stank ass breath in my face and talking like you think this is some Skinemax movie, but now I just want to figure out what the hell I’m doing wrong.
Actually, I’m pretty sure I know already, and it’s got nothing to do with numbers. So why did I write and post this? Maybe because it’s almost 6 a.m. and I’ve been up since 2 a.m., unable to sleep. Santa, what I’d really like for Christmas this year is a very intelligent, reasonably attractive man with a clever sense of humor, a kind heart and an all consuming need to adore me. I know that maybe I’ve been a bit naughty, but I’ve still got a few months to make it up, right Santa?