How I took a break and became a different person...

It's been about four months since my last post, and a lot has definitely happened.

It was May when I last posted and I was looking forward to Summer '16 in Puerto Rico.  I wanted to see my family, see my friends, and hook up with Rican guys.  I was hoping this time would be different.  Truth is, it's the same shit just a different locations.  I ended up hooking up with two guys and experienced a failed attempt with a third.  I don't think I want to go into details with those right now, but it'll come.

Four months.  Four months, casual hook ups, failed attempts at dating, threesome proposals, a swinger party, and a couple of beers later, and I'm kinda burned out.  I was going for the casual hook ups because I believed it's what was best for me.  I thought it was best because the casual meant that I wasn't going to have to deal with the drama... I wasn't going to have to deal with the possibility of a heart break or the complications that relationships bring into your life.  I soon realized that I was dealing with the exact same shit.  And yeah, I'm doing great by myself, but I'm a sexual being so I like the male companionship in my life.  Don't get me wrong, it's not a priority, but more of a cheat meal on the weekends... yummy banana splits!

So it's September and I'm dating.  I haven't had sex in more than a month, and I've survived.  I've been upfront with the guys that I'm seeing and I've told them that even though I don't want to jump into a relationship, I do want to give myself the opportunity of getting to know people.  I do want to date.  I do want to feel wanted.  I'm just done with the non essential, unfulfilling, casual hook ups.

And so I'm a different person, but I don't know how long it'll last.  And I'm okay with that, because that's just human nature.

Stay tuned for the "Things that I learned in Puerto Rico" post.  Pre-game is a thing.

-Angie

Should I give up, or should I just keep chasing penis?

Yes, sometimes the way to the penis is long and hazardous.  And you find yourself questioning, does it lead anywhere?  Hopefully, it does...  Pleasure, Satisfaction, Orgasms, Self-Fulfillment, and all that other shit that takes into account your well-being before that of others.  Because let’s face it, in many cases, especially those of women, we put everyone and everything before us; that includes, his penis, his orgasms, his satisfaction, his well-being, and all that other shit that does not take your needs into account.  And so let’s be honest: I had sex.  And I feel my life slowly but surely turning into a "Sex and the City-esque" kinda life... with lots of the sex components and none of the rest.  There are no fancy shoes, fancy clothes, awesome apartments in NYC, famous celebrities, failed marriages, etc.  It's just me, the guys, and the "romanticizing" of sex.

I've purposely placed "romanticizing" in quotation marks because I am not really romanticizing it.  I'll give you a hard and cold account of the events that led me to writing my post, with some exceptions, because that's what writers do.  And so I begin by confessing that I lied in my previous post.  I actually did have sex with the theater geek.  I also had sex with the caveman, but that was after I published it.  

Theater Geek:  He came over.  We had beers and wine.  We watched Netflix... and then we chilled.  And yeah, I mean the other "perverted" context of chilled.  He talked a lot about his life which seemed interesting.  He also talked a lot to the point where I couldn't get a word in.  After a couple of glasses of wine, I put my leg on his... He started rubbing my thighs, and I literally can't remember how one thing led to another, but he kissed me.  After making out for what seemed to be a solid minute, we fucked.  Unfortunately the details are a bit hazy since I was drunk on wine.

I know he fucked me on my couch.  I know he fucked me from behind.  I know he was on top of me at a certain point.  I know he used and abused my tender breasts... One week later I still have battle scars (bruises).  I also know he had a statuesque naked body which he pranced around like he had no care in the world.  I also--UNFORTUNATELY--noticed that he had ugly feet.  I'm petty for that... I KNOW.  It's been about two weeks and the communication between each other is at sending and receiving naked pictures on snapchat... It's mostly me on the receiving end.  The verdict:  it was good at its best and okay at its worst.  I've definitely have had worse.  Would I fuck him again?  Maybe.  

So, should I give up?  Or, Should I keep chasing penis?  Well, I fucked the caveman about 4 days after this one.  I guess I'm still chasing penis.  And that, my faithful readers, will be another post.  

-Angie

It's been a while...

I decided to post the mess that is my previous post, because I want to stay as honest as possible.  I've started going to therapy for anxiety and depression, and I've been told that I'm doing a lot of suppression.  They suggested keeping a journal, and this is it for me.  The thing is, I stopped.

At the beginning of my break up with Mark, I felt overwhelmed by emotions.  I cried, and cried, and constantly felt like I had so much in me, that I decided to start writing as a method of getting a bit of that weight out of my heart.  It helped.  After every post I felt my heart getting lighter and lighter.  I was able to smile and genuinely laugh out loud.  I thought to myself that years from now, it would be interesting to come back to my feelings but definitely not now.

Coming back to my feelings/blog meant that I would have to face my emotions.  It meant that I would probably cry again.  It meant that I would no longer ignore what's been weighing heavily on me.  But I'm not so sure about that anymore.

Way back, about two weeks into the break up, I thought it would be a good idea to start seeing other people... Not for anything serious, but for fun and to keep me busy.  Turns out I couldn't hold down a conversation without crying and feeling extremely guilty.  Every date I went on just reassured me of my feelings for Mark, and of how much I missed him and wanted him back.  This week has been the exception.

I was debating whether I should get back at dating because I thought that dating meant I was back to meaningless, casual, and boring sex.  Lets face it, I put myself in that situation.  I let it get to the point where it didn't matter.  But dating isn't necessarily about that.

Sex shouldn't be something you're ashamed about.  Sex is about personal pleasure, satisfaction, and making connections.  It's OK to have sex... as long as you're enjoying it.  My point is, my fear of whether sex is morally wrong or not is not going to stop me from going on dates anymore.  And so I went on two different dates this week...

The Dates

First date: Single, White, Theater Geek.  We talked (he did most of it).  It was alright.  Not great, but it was decent.

Second date: Single, Mexican, Caveman/Hipster/Jesus.  Woah.  As far as dates go, it was good.  Unfortunately most of the time my mind was just going: HUBBA HUBBA.  I struggled focusing on the conversation (which was actually good) because his hair and eyes were so pretty.  You ever seen a luscious mane that you just wanna run your fingers through?  That was me.  Yup, I had a serious case of "googly eyes," but overall I think I behaved and managed to enjoy myself.  He's extremely honest which I also found extremely attractive.

The Verdict

I DIDN'T HAVE SEX! But I still managed to enjoy myself.  It's not about me dating and finding my worth in others, but me dating and enjoying myself.  I'm honestly in no place to start considering serious dating.  I don't want that.  I want to enjoy being by myself.  I want to do MORE but by myself.  And so here's to more tinder, okc, and pof dates... Hell, maybe I'll even go on a date with someone I meet face to face instead of online.  YOLO, right?

-Angie

HAPPY CINCO DE MAYO!

Today, I'm ok...

and every day it gets easier.

It's been hard to write these past weeks.  I've had tough days.  I think I kept dragging my emotions because I felt guilty.  I kept asking the what if?  ...trying to find a solution and trying to justify everything that had happened.  I've finally accepted that I didn't lose my boyfriend:  HE LOST ME.  I've been feeling like shit without even realizing that when a person is so willing to let go of you it's because there is no love left, and that's okay.  Actually, it's not okay, but there's really nothing I can do.  How do I feel now?  I don't want to waste my time investing all of myself into a relationship.  Yes, I know not all men are the same, but I'm tired, and I need time to myself.  

I've noticed that since my break up, I've connected with old friends, I've gotten closer to my current friends, and most importantly, I've become a better mom.  A good friend told me: "Just go all out being you."  And that's exactly what I plan on doing.  

So, what are my plans?  I'm cleaning more, reading more, enjoying music more, talking to friends more, exercising more, cuddling with my daughter more, eating healthy food more, doing my make up more... I'm just doing more of everything because I deserve to enjoy my life MORE.

Not that I wasn't enjoying life while in my relationship, but the thing about not properly healing after a break up and getting into a new relationship is that you 

Which phase are you in when you feel numb?  What is happening when you get fixes from casual relationships and acquaintances?  What is happening when you're supposed to be crushed but you just don't care anymore?  Am I done?  Is this what it feels like when pain has overflown and everything has been spilled?

Today, April 27, 2016.

This has been part of my thought process for the past month.  I thought about discarding it, but it's my heart, and it deserves to be heard.  Since then, I've been making some changes and improvements in my life, but I'll keep the details for another post.

-Angie

How to succeed in heartbreak without really trying...

"How to succeed in heartbreak without really trying.
First, do nothing.
Become one with your couch eating whole stacks of Oreos like leaning towers of feelings.
Watch Jane Austen’s adaptations until your eyes become raisins.
Relish in Colin Firth emerging from the lake in a white shirt.
If you must do something, drink, but keep it classy.
Put your cheap wine in a glass, you aren’t a pirate.
Talk to yourself.
Talk to yourself in the mirror, on public transportation, in the middle of the fountain at the mall.
Because there are things you never got to say and you don’t have to swallow them.
Join Tinder, make your profile picture a model and talk to no one.
Just keep swiping until you got carpal tunnel, that way you can reject 50 people a minute and it feels like killing ants with abs.
Kiss as many people as you need to get the stamp of his lips off of your brain.
Go to museums, realize other things have history too.
Play hide and go seek with your REM cycle.
We’re are not sure which worse to wake up from: the nightmares about your sides are splitting open
or the dreams about him holding your jaw like it meant something to him.
You might as well tape your eyelids to your forehead because at least you could lie to yourself while you’re awake.
Stay up until 3, 3:30, 4. Brew tea with the bags under your eyes.
Write. Write until you lose every metaphor in your library you start using the same one over and over, because there’s only so many ways to describe being destroyed.
But once you get there, that’s just the foundation.
Next, gather up all of the chinks in your chain, fasten them together.
Make chainmail and write that bitch into battle.
Take his name, the one that’s still hurts to say and use it as a war cry. Then actually cry, because there is nothing shameful about clearing your eyes.
Do not pick yourself up.
Do not be okay, because heartbreak is not being okay, it’s about remembering you were okay before.
It’s about saying “Fuck okay!”.
It’s about taking all of your broken pieces and building yourself a castle, because I don’t care who you are.
You’re a goddamn queen.
It’s about saying “Fuck this poem!”.
No one succeeds at heartbreak.
I built myself a throne room out of pizza boxes and empty lunch bowls.
And I can’t stop crying into my Campbell’s chicken noodle soup.
But one day I cry myself a fountain of youth.
Let’s go back to beginning.
I’m tired of self-help tips and friendly pick me ups.
I drink a bottles, bottles and bottles, pretending their mouths belong to someone else.
But I’m done feeling sorry for myself, because why apologize for loving until you burst?
My capacity to feel needs no pardon.
My heart needs no mending.
I am not broken.
I’m just a little more…explosive!"

-Victoria Morgan

Anger makes it easy to move on...

I guess I'm back at anger... Not because you broke up with me, but because of how you're handling things.  Because of how willingly you have let go of everything that we stood for.  And I've waited an entire week to start writing, because it was pretty bad.  Should I hold back for you?  No.  But I'm trying to grow, and part of the growing means that I take time to digest my feelings, and deal with them on my own without exploding.  So in reality, I'm holding back for myself.  I'm holding back because dragging an unsolvable situation will do nothing.  I'm holding back because anger doesn't harm you, but it does harm me.

And so I've decided to make this path a tad more private.  Unfortunately I'm at the point where I'm starting to be less public about my feelings because it doesn't hurt as much so I'm thinking logically.

(The above passage took me about a week to write.)

And so I thought long and hard until today... I questioned whether to post this or not... whether to scratch it or not... whether to give up or not.  But after today it's clearer.  Thank you, Mark, for breaking my heart.  Thank you, Mark, for being everything you said you weren't.. THANK YOU, MARK, because after today, I am positive that you are no longer my person, and that you never really were.  After today, I move on...

I'm done.

-Angie

Saying goodbye still fucking sucks...

I guess it’s because most of my goodbyes are really “See you later!”  I don’t know…  Yesterday I did some thinking.  I figured I needed to get into what I normally do… date.  Date because rebounds are what get me through heart break, or so I thought.  But this time it’s different.  The fact of the matter is that I can’t even think about being with anyone who isn’t him.  It makes me sick.  I know he said not to wait for him, but I’m not waiting on him, I’m waiting on my heart to heal.  If anything I need dates with my best friends… those are the ones that really dig deep and are willing to lay you on an operating table and work with, and on you, little by little, putting the pieces back together.  They understand that it’s difficult to do it on your own, so they’re willing to help with their expertise.  Because they’ve been where I’ve been.  Because they know me better than my ex.  Because they love me more than he did.  It’s ok to let them in.  It’s ok not to be ok.  Even in the distance, they got you.  I wish you knew how many people reached out to me, and told me… I’ve been there:  I know what you’re feeling:  It’ll get better.  Friends who have sent me messages, videos, suggestions of books to read… friends who have read me and have felt the pain that I feel.  And I'm so grateful... so ridiculously grateful for the angels I know God has sent me, but I'm still saying goodbye, so it still hurts.  

-Angie

Still saying goodbye...

The thing is, when you're saying goodbye to the love of your life, it's not necessarily going to be an exact science.  Yeah, you assume that after that last conversation you're done.  You're not going to write to that person anymore... oh, but you're so wrong.  The urge is unbearable.  So you meet him again because there are still some of his stuff at your place...  And he calls before he arrives: "I'm on my way."  And you tell yourself you're okay, but your stomach is churning... all of a sudden you feel extremely sick, you start sweating, you start shaking... you're going to see him for the first time after you broke up.  Should I just stay in?  Should I not talk to him?  What do I do?  And everything goes exactly how you didn't expect it to go.  He's calm and serene, and his tranquility overcomes all of your nervousness.  And you both hug, and you admit that you miss each other, and furthermore, that you still love each other.  And it's the first time he's said it since you broke up.  And when you hug him, it's so hard to breathe... it's hard to breathe because you don't want to cry, and because it's the first time there's been a break from the horrible nightmare you've been living in for the past week.  And you smell him and it hurts so much because it smells like home... And you're crumbling inside but there's a moment of hope.  You talk like you used to talk when you were together... You joke around and make fun of each other.  You joke about the situation, and for a second you think everything is going to be alright.  You truly believe that no matter what happens, whether you get back together or not, everything will be fine.  So you say goodbye but there's a hint of hope in that goodbye...   

But then it's tomorrow... and tomorrow you keep pretending that everything will be alright, and you're met with the reality... Nothing will ever be the same.  And you go back and forth between anger, denial, depression, and you're trying to negotiate your way back to him, but there's no going back...   So here you are... writing.

And you're writing because you're exhausted.  You're writing because you're frustrated.  You're writing because you want to move on, but you're writing because the thought of it makes you feel guilty.  You're writing because he told you not to wait for him.  You're writing because you're no longer the woman he wants to marry... and it's killing you... and instead of self-harming with alcohol, casual hookups, and maybe even illegal drugs, you're trying to face your emotions head on.

And I'm tired... I'm so, so tired of feeling so much.  But the thing is, you will still be saying goodbye as long as you love him and there's nothing you can really do about that... 

-Angie

What saying goodbye to your soulmate looks like...

Closure, is it really necessary?  That's what I thought.

In my desperation to feel better already and not have to wake up every morning with that sense of grief, I went online and looked up: How to get over a breakup.  What I ended up finding was that basically I had made all the mistakes in the book.  I was needy, public about my emotions, I kept contacting him... just everything was a mess.  So anyways, last night we had a conversation, and it was pretty much what you would call a goodbye.  What I'm doing with this post is sharing what my goodbye looks like.

Love comes in all different, shapes and colors; ours was one of the best.

-Angie

On what would've been our 10th month...

It's been almost 10 months since we first met...

I'm far too late on this one, but please allow me to tell you 100 reasons why I love him in no particular order:

1. His touch... Because his hugs were the one thing that could comfort me after a rough day at work.
2. The way he looked at me... Because I felt loved.
3. His breakfast burritos... Because before him I had no idea how good they could be.
4. The way he laughed hysterically at the jokes going on in his head.
5. His playfulness... Because around him I felt like I was a kid again.
6. His creativity... This is a man who is constantly going.
7. His childish ways... He was a very sore loser when it came to video games.
8. He was friendly.  He's the guy I could introduce to anyone.
9. He was forgiving.
10. He was understanding.
11. He changed my tires.
12. He killed the giant spider.
13. He was a Dad to Luna.
14. He did the laundry and dishes when he was home and I was working.
15. His intelligence... He was probably one of the smartest people I've ever encountered.
16. Our first date... Because first impressions are everything.  
17. His voice... Because he could bring me back to Earth in a second with it.
18. He was the best lover... He aimed to please. 
19. Autumn Isabella and Atlas Ivan.
20. The way he loved his nieces and nephews...  He was the definition of what an uncle should be.
21. The way he called me wife...  Even though we weren't married. 
22. His smell.
23. His confidence and lack of...  It was a constant battle but it showed me how human he was.
24. He made me feel like I was his equal.
25. He was the first man to ever buy me clothing items.  I actually liked them.  
26. He introduced me to Bernie Sanders way before he was a household name.
27. He believes in justice.
28. His eyes.
29. His luscious locks (thanks to Cantu).
30. The way he kissed my hands and arms.
31. Catnip.
32. Our videos/sketches/photographs... 
33. Our "wedding"... the only reason why I think he agreed to it was because he knew how much it meant to me.
34. PDA... I actually hated him trying to make out with me in public, but it was proof of how unashamed he was of me.
35. He was my best friend.
36. He ate everything I cooked for him.
37. He took care of me when I was sick.
38. He brought me my pills to school when I forgot to take them.
39. He took Luna to the doctor's.
40. Hot showers and Robi Draco Rosa playing in the background.
41. He likes old school Adele.
42. His playlist on Spotify.
43. He takes care of animals.
44. Cuddling in bed with him.
45. His batman shirt with all the holes.
46. Bojack and our matching Halloween costumes.  
47. Top 5s.
48. The dollar theater.
49. Because the word motherfucker was added to my vocab.
50. Because we would cuss at each other all the time and never get mad.
51. He made me smile big smiles.
52. Star Wars.
53. He introduced me to street tacos.
54. Because I wanted to share everything with him.
55. Because we shared a laptop for our facebook accounts.
56. Our drive back from Oklahoma. 
57. Our trip to Denton.
58. Our plans of getting a house... maybe moving to another country.
59. Jamaican Independence Day. 
60. The Green Elephant. 
61. Watching "The X-files" with him.
62. Our song... Today
63. His bubble butt.
64. "Those two girls look like they like small dicks"
65. He puts everything where it doesn't go.
66. Conspiracy Theories... End times, mmm.
67. Cargo shorts.
68. He hates flip flops.
69. He's not ashamed of saying that he doesn't like Puerto Rican food.
70. He loves Mexican candy.
71. He was proud of my accomplishments.
72. His feet smell.
73. He loved the mysteries of the Universe.
74. The reason why he went into Economics.
75. He helped Luna with her Math.
76. He helped Luna with her youtube channel.
77. He believed dreams were messages to be taken seriously.
78. The day after we met he deleted tinder because he had found me.
79. The fact that he disliked most of the shows that I liked.
80. It Follows. - The one thing we agree on 100%
81. He got me a couch.
82. He showed me new places.
83. He was my first New Year's Eve kiss.
84. He uses way too much garlic in his cooking.
85. He got me into wine.
86. He always wanted me to have fun.
87. I loved his podcast.
88. He hated anything that had to do with celebrity gossip.
89. He slept next to me even though my snoring kept him up.  
90. Not cooking for you sucks.
91. Not rearranging what you put in the wrong place sucks.
92. Not coming home to you sucks.
93. Not waking up next to you fucking sucks.
94. Not hearing you say you love me sucks.
95. Not being able to tell you about my day sucks.
96. Not planning for Puerto Rico with you sucks.
97. Not playing around with you sucks.
98. Not touching you sucks.
99. Not calling you my boyfriend sucks.  
100. Not being a family anymore breaks my heart...

There is obviously more than just 100 reasons why I love you... Even though it still breaks my heart, I understand that if I found this once, I can find it again in another person.  

The humper...

     Children, this is the story about how I met "the humper."  This one is actually the ex boyfriend's favorite.  Hope you enjoy it!

DISCLOSURE: THIS IS NOT APT FOR MINORS.  MY ACCOUNTS ARE REAL AND VERY EXPLICIT.  PROCEED AT YOUR OWN RISK.

     I don't remember the exact date I met the dude, but it was one of the tinder guys.  Can't remember his name, probably shouldn't even disclose it because I could get in trouble if I become famous (which OBVIOUSLY is going to happen).  Joseph (the GBF) was out doing something (probably at the Fuse or at the legendary pool party where everyone fucked everyone/everything), and I was at his apartment alone.  I arranged to meet the humper and just chill.  This guy was a tad persistent; he freaked me out but not in a psycho killer kind of way... more in a "I'm super needy" kinda way.  It didn't faze me; apparently I like weird.

     In his weirdness, he turns out to actually have a great personality.  He's ok looking (not my best), on the shorter side (probably my height), and from Jordan (disclosing countries because Onix once called me the UN and I need you to understand why)... Had a cute accent and all.  We talked for quite a while about music, video editing and photography (he's a photographer and a videographer at his church).  Now here's the thing, before I agreed to meet guys, I always wrote the saaaame shit: "I'M NOT HAVING SEX WITH YOU."  I was ALWAYS lying.  This was kinda/sorta... Actually, I'll just finish the story and you'll decide if this was the exception or not.

     So the guy butters me up with a solid conversation and tons of laughs... He sits next to me, approaches me, and kisses me.  No fireworks; it was pretty bad.  I could've stopped, but I'm very giving and just decided to proceed... maybe he was better with his penis.  The making out gets intense (I'm thinking that I'm ready to fuck because the kissing is drying up my vagina).  He proceeds to unbutton his pants...

I say: "Hey, do you have condoms? If not I can get one."

He says:  "No, that's alright."

I go:  "What do you mean?"

He says:  "We're not having sex."

I go:  "... oh... kay..."

     By this point I'm like... "ah fuck..."  What happened next, blew my mind.

THE MOTHERFUCKER STARTED TO HUMP ME!!!

     You know the dogs you see trying to get it on... the ones that always fail to dunk it and just shoot aimlessly... that's what was going on.  The guy is full on humping the shit out of me.  I shit you not, I'm just fucking speechless.  He's moaning and apparently enjoying himself and I'm under him trying to understand WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?!  I'm silent. still. stiff... and this dude is humping like it's a matter of life and death.

     In the whole process of trying to understand what was going on, I offer to take off my pants.  He celebrates this small victory! YES!  I'm thinking, ok... I guess we ARE fucking.  WRONG!  He humps me while I'm in my underwear and he's in his... WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON??? 

     I offered to suck him off and he was fine with that.  He came, and that was it.

     A couple of weeks later he contacts me and asks me:  "So, when are we meeting again?"  He goes on, "I know you had a great time."  I'm thinking to myself, "Were we in the same place?"  and proceeded to ignore him because honesty would've been a hard blow... as mean as I might be sometimes, I never do it intentionally.  

The end.

PS.  I knew I had said I was going to write on a weekly basis but part of the healing process is going with the flow and writing when I need to.  To add on to this, I'm still devastated.  The at&t guys were here installing new and awesome internet and I was crying during the ENTIRE process.  It's ok though, cuz my ex posted a picture and declared that he was having a blast last night... I guess that's my cue to start having a blast as well.  I'll get over it... I'll move on.  He's not a bad guy; I hurt him and these were the consequences.  He doesn't love me enough to fight through it and that's alright, because one day someone will.  I thought he was the one, but like my friend Alex said: "There is no one, there are many ones." 

-Angie

How I met tinder...

     Despite currently being heart-broken, sobbing, in my period, and just plain and simple miserable, I will attempt to entertain the shit out of you.

     I made the mistake of asking my former boyfriend for his opinion on what I had so far in this post.  Because of this I find myself second guessing my choice of words for this second entry.  It's also a mistake because I'm just at a point where I'm desperate for any kind of attention I can get from him.  Bear with me people: I am now in the middle of my anger stage...  Me asking him for his opinion and trying to be his friend was part of the denial.  Lets get back to this post:  5, 4, 3, 2, 1, all eyes on me!  I'm still trying to figure out what kind of blog I want to have.

     Do I want it to be kind of a novel?  Nah!  Too much pressure.  I actually just want to begin the healing process. and be as honest as possible while at it.  So I've decided to just go with it.  I think my heart will take me wherever it is meant to go with this.  And right now children, let me tell you the story about how I met tinder.

     I was born in Philadelphia, moved to Puerto Rico when I was 8, and lived there until the tender age of 25?  I can't really count anymore.  Blame the anger stage! Two years after graduating from the wonderful University of Puerto Rico at Humacao, I realized that I was stuck:  I was a single mother still living with my mom and depending heavily on her support.  I was desperate to grow up and find my path.  I needed to move.  Dallas ISD was recruiting and you know how the rest of the story goes.

     Not only was I running from the island, but I was running from an abusive relationship (that, I'll leave for another entry), and a very conservative household.  When you look up the definition of overprotective it says: "refer to Jacqueline Marin."  So when I moved to Dallas with my best friend from college, believe me, it was a fucking free for all.  My daughter was back in PR while I figured out my next move.  I was FREE for the first time in my life.  CUE MOTHERFUCKING TINDER!

     When it comes to online dating I had done it all... I think it all began when I got my first computer at the age of 13 and began exploring the world of ICQ.  Hear that?  It's the sound of younglings asking themselves, what the hell is ICQ?  Millenials, ICQ was a brilliant instant messaging service where I met the guy who I technically count as my first.  No, I didn't lose my virginity when I was 13, but I did meet him when I was 13.  Anyways, that's another post as well.  Long story short, I was an ugly duckling in real life, but that wasn't the case on the Internet.

     Back to Dallas:  Class, Class, Class! (Did I tell you guys I'm a teacher?)  Summer of 2014.  In past years I had played with Plenty of Fish and Ok Cupid to no avail.  Well, actually, I did get to hook up with a ginger once when I went to Maryland, but that was pretty much it.  Even though it was amazing to explore the possibilities, it wasn't a realistic scenario in Puerto Rico because that's just not how you meet people there.  So yeah, I opened them, but I also downloaded this new app called tinder.  In reality it wasn't new, but it was new to me.  How does this thing work? Oh, you just swipe right if you like them, and swipe left if you don't.  What's the purpose?  To fucking hook up.  I promise you, it's just a hook up app.

     What happened next was a series of unfortunate dates (the humper, the golf player, the old man, the Mexican, the French, etc.) that eventually lead me to the love of my life and the man I thought I would marry next year (the ex boyfriend).

     I know you're here for the juicy stuff, but patience my child, this is a process.  I think for now I'm pretty much done with the moping and the unnecessary and uninteresting background story.  Tune in next week for the story of "the humper" and the bargaining, depression or acceptance stage.  It'll be worth your time!

-Angie

How I met and lost my boyfriend...

     A little bit more than a couple of months ago I found myself trying to find my voice.  My boyfriend at the time was extremely creative and constantly spoke about his dreams.  He reminded me of how much I used to love writing.  Writing was a hobby, but it was also an escape to reality, and a way for me to keep my feelings under control... "el papel aguanta todo."  So anyways, I kept telling myself that if I were to write something, I should write about what I know.  A topic that I know way too much about are disastrous dates.  I wrote what I thought was a great introduction but never actually got around to posting it.  For those of you who are curious, here it goes:

     For almost ten years I went on a series of disastrous dates that eventually led me to my current boyfriend.  Yes, after grueling years of casual, and “one hit wonder” dates, I find myself in a forever kind of relationship.  If my initial sentences have steered you towards the belief that I have the solution to all of your dating woes: think again.  My boyfriend “fell out of the sky” at a moment in which I had convinced myself that I didn’t want a committed relationship because: “I’m tired of guys not taking me seriously.”  Unless you’re some freak of nature, or you have your life figured out, this is something that happens to all of us—whether it be a woman or a man—.  Am I a smarter after all of these dates? Yes.  Do I actually use what I’ve learned? No.  It’s human nature to repeat our mistakes even though we know what the outcome will be.  So what exactly am I here for?  

     According to me, I was here to just give a detailed and funny account of these "amazing" dates I went on.  However, life throws you curve balls.  

     I was in a fun, uncomplicated, loving relationship with my boyfriend.  I turned the fun, uncomplicated, and loving part into dramatic, complicated, and deceitful.  Yeah, we're all humans and we make mistakes, but how you do manage to ruin the one good thing that kept you sane?  Maybe that's the thing, I shouldn't have relied on him to keep me sane.  I should've figured out myself before I tried to figure out us.  

     With us it felt right.  It all happened fast but I didn't question it because it felt UNNATURALLY natural.  Less than a week into our relationship we shared our first "I love you."  Less than a week into our relationship we were living together.  Less than a week into our relationship we were a family.  I thought to myself, "oh, this is what it feels like when people say: YOU JUST KNOW."  

     Anyways, back to the blog...  When I first thought about it I figured my hook would be dates that would eventually lead the reader to knowing the story behind "how I met my boyfriend," but our relationship status has changed.  I'll still tell you all the juicy details to my horrendous dates, but I'll also tell you how decisions, and experiences that I've had, have been both damaging and filled with lessons.  So here's to my first post... children, this is story of how I met and lost my boyfriend.  

-Angie