a love story, in 11 parts

It’s been a long time since I’ve talked about anything other than my weight loss (up .7lbs this week. it’s fine. shark week started tuesday, NYE dinner was kind of heavy. it will be gone by next thursweigh. hopefully.). I’m sure you’ve noticed and I’m sure you’re thinking to yourself “I wonder what’s going on in Martina’s love life? She hasn’t updated us in a while. No news is good news, right? Good for her.”

uuuummmm. no.

To be honest, I’m feeling myself falling into the same feeling of hopelessness and despair (#dramaqueen) that I did last year. It’s weird because every early January I see the whole year filled with possibility, for any and everything. Then late January comes and I’m all “this is shit.” It’s not even late January and I’m starting to feel the shit creep in. I decided that if I was going to insist on swiping from my couch instead of actually going out and interacting with people (which, I decided is probably the best way for me to meet someone, but hey.), that I was going to really commit to it. This means that I wasn’t going to blindly swipe left anymore. I was going to weigh each match and make conscientious decisions about which way to swipe. That lasted all of two guys and then my thumb went on autopilot.

left swipe. left swipe. LEFT SWIPE.

Whatever.

After swiping right on 3 decent candidates, I turned my phone off and went to bed. The next morning, I woke up to a bee in my hive. Bumble does this to me literally all the time, where they say there’s a bee in my hive and when I go in to meet my little worker bee, there’s no one there.

cool.

This time, there actually was someone flying around the hive! (wow, the bee talk is annoying. it stops now.) I sent my first message and waited. Now I will show you what went down and, of course, share my thoughts about the whole debacle. Before we start though, let me remind you that I am not good with this stuff at all. Embarrassingly bad, even. So go easy on the judgement. Ok. *deep breath* here we go.

Ok, this is starting off fairly well. He’s obviously read my profile, which at this point, makes me want to shop for a wedding dress. He also seemingly has no problem with GIFs, hashtags and emojis. This might not seem like a big deal, but the last guy who actually answered me said he doesn’t use GIFs.

It would have never worked.

OK, still not bad. Once he mentioned his boxers and bed, my spidey senses started to tingle but I want to be positive and open and I didn’t want to shut down too fast. Especially since he left “are” out of his “what you up to today” message. Yea, I’m that picky. I’m also 31 and know how to speak.

Mentioning Queer Eye was a test. Like I said, I don’t know what I’m doing, but for my intents and purposes, he passed. The line he threw at me worked too. It worked because it made me smile. I didn’t want to let on though. This is also an example of how I flirt. Don’t think I didn’t notice the incorrect usage of your/you’re. NOTED.

I’m not sure what he was trying to do here. Was he really asking to hit on me? Is this “spitting game?” Is this flirting? I’M SO CONFUSED. Also, am I wrong to think that hitting on someone is not the same as trying to turn them on? To me, hitting on someone may result in getting a phone number or an instagram handle. Turning someone on is sexting or bedroom talk. No?

I’m not supposed to be on my cellphone at work, making this that much more of a pain in my ass. If he were being cute and flirty, then fine. I’ll risk getting in trouble because now you have my attention. I obviously see where this is going and I’m not here for it. If you think I’m being difficult now, just wait.

I am now the complete and total opposite of turned on. I’m actually kind of annoyed.

I am thoroughly uncomfortable and maybe I should have put the kabosh on it right here or just ignored this crackerjack, but I was bored. Is that terrible? You know what? I really don’t care. And again, don’t think the your/you’re situation didn’t go unnoticed. NOTED X2. Also, my answer of “conversation” made me smile bigger than his line of “I’d be too busy watching you.” I’ve found my soulmate. It’s me.

My heating up pizza bagels remark made me full on giggle. I’m over this game, but I’m not done yet.

Personally, I don’t trust people who don’t eat carbs. Or who don’t have social media. But that’s another post. I’m not sure what he’s thinking at this point. I could guess that he’s rocking out with his you know what out but guess what – I 👏DON’T👏 CARE. This is also the part of the program where I try to veer the conversation back to normalcy by playing dumb to his advances. I was hoping my quick wit would win out. *shrug*

Again, really uncomfortable. I tried to think of the least sexual thing I could think of. Also, I’m getting really annoyed. The last two guys who took the time to answer me went very sexual, very fast and now this guy. Third time’s not really a charm, amirite?

I took a risk with the foot comment. I didn’t want to go there, but boredom is a bitch. He pushed, but nevertheless I persisted. Sadly, but also thankfully, this is where it ends.

There’s apparently a fine line between playing hard to get and building a wall. I’m not sure what side I was on, or if I even picked a side. He really got me with that first “I’d be busy watching you” crack. Why? It was cheesy and kind of gross, but it was also kind of flirty (?) and if there’s one thing that I want more than a lot of things, it’s to be flirted with. To be pursued. To feel wanted. I know I say it in all of these posts, but it’s true. I just want to feel normal, like I deserve the attention and the good. This comes from always being seen and treated as the (fat) friend. I’m working on it, mentally and physically, but it’s still tough.

I know I deserve it all. I know I’m worth it. And I’m amazing and special and smart and funny and an all around ray of sunshine. I don’t know why I think I’m going to swipe my way to true love.

I’m not sharing this conversation to drum up a pity party. I genuinely found it (myself) funny. I know that it’s not just me and I know it will come when I’m not looking for it (i HATE that phrase. absolutely LOATHE it.), or it will come… eventually (DOUBLE, TRIPLE, MOCHA LATTA CHATTA HATE THAT ONE. RAGE. ). I know all of this, but none of it makes me feel better. None of it makes me feel less… lonely. And what really makes me feel shitty is that ^^this^^ is what’s out there. I know there are good men around, I just don’t know the first place to look. I’d probably be too intimidated/in my own head to pursue one anyway.

This has taken an unexpected and unintentional turn, one that I really didn’t want to make. This is awkward.

Love you, mean it.

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