Love Mojo: Depleted.

I need a recharge.

To say that I have been 'unlucky in love' is like calling a plane crash 'unfortunate'.  I should be declared a disaster area, complete with the yellow tape and American Red Cross standing by.

  Two weeks ago, I was an overjoyed, ecstatic ball of happy, so much so that I was shooting rainbows and sunshine out of my eyeballs.  Out of  nowhere, an old acquaintance came barging into my life and swept me off my feet like he was Cary Fucking Grant.  My whole world flipped and tumbled upside down in the most delicious way possible.  It was the last piece of my long disassembled puzzle, finally falling into place, and I fell right into the hype, not even thinking, just enjoying the fireworks.  

But alas, we're talking about ME here... the universe doth giveth, and Baby Mama Drama taketh away just a few days later.  No surprise here.

Needless to say, having the rug pulled from under me, again, was not a pleasant feeling.  Having that itty bitty taste of what I wanted, especially when I wasn't even looking for it, only to have it ripped right back was jarring ; I almost hate the fact that he even barged his way in at all.  Ignorance would have been bliss.

Flaco is another burr in my sock right now. 

Just before Cary Fucking Baby Mama Drama Grant came swooping into my life, Flaco and I spent yet another evening together as we often do.  When you spend so much time with someone, it's only natural for feelings to start to percolate, especially given the fact that he's been nothing but sweet and supportive of me.  So as we lay snuggled in my bed, I mentioned that I was starting to get a little fuzzy for him.  (Not all-out love or even falling anywhere near it. Crazy enough,any feelings for Flaco have been kept tightly controlled and in check. Anyway..) So I tell him  this, very matter-of-factly, just because I thought it was fair for him to know....and after a few beats of deafening silence, I got.."Um, wow...well thank you for telling me." Ok, I fully realize that I sort of blurted it out, but it's not like I professed my love to him or proposed or something, just was honest with him.  I couldn't understand why my little confession made things so awkward.  To his credit, he stayed with me the rest of the night and kissed me goodbye in the morning, and we have talked since then, but now things are a bit askew. Between this and the fact that we had a small disagreement early last week, I can't be sure what sort of future there is for us, if at all.  As they say, another one bites the dust.  Back to square one I go.

Just to add insult to injury, here's some icing on my giant, completely devoid of luck Love Cake.

BabyDaddy, whom I've known nearly 20 years now, is in the beginnings of a divorce from his soon to be ex-wife, Shrek. Given our long history, I've been caring and supportive, and he's been very receptive.  He calls or texts me to sort of vent on what's happening, and I check up on him every so often to see that he's ok. 

**Quick backstory- BD and I haven't been together since 2004.  We had a nasty breakup, and it took a long time for us to even be in the same room together.  Eventually we learned how to be civil, friendly even, but we still never really talked about anything other than our son.  We didn't pal around, we didn't have extensive conversations, and we certainly didn't flirt. There was no romantic interest whatsoever. We were drier than platonic, like stale white bread.  Anyway, back to the story...**

   I gave him an open dinner/crash on my couch invitation, no ulterior motives, but simply because he is my son's father and my friend.  Last week, to my pleasant surprise, he took me up on it and came by.  We had a great dinner, just the four of us, talking and joking, and chilled on the couch to watch a movie with the kids afterwards.  It was nice just hanging out. I had forgotten how much I liked him as a person.

Then I started getting flirty texts....out of left field....from HIM.

Once I got over the initial shock, I decided two could play at that game, so I played along.  I didn't think anything of it, I was just having fun, having a few giggles together.  When the kids went to bed and he stayed, I was pretty surprised, but went with it, thinking I we could talk on a more serious level, or at the very least, have more fun flirting. 

I went into the kitchen to get a drink, and when I turned around, he was there, all up in the kool aid that is my personal space.  Next thing I know, there was no more personal space and we're making out like we did 17 years ago. Baby daddy is NOT this guy. I didn't even have time to be shocked, it just happened.

Long story short, all logic and reality was absent, and things...yeah.  Trust me, I'm as surprised as you are.

So as we're laying there, he tells me, "I hope you know that what just happened was just stress relief.  Nothing more is gonna come of this.  I care about you as our kid's mom, but that's it."

Um, yeah, I don't remember proposing to you or asking you to move in, or even batting my eyelashes at you, but thanks for setting me straight and making me feel like a cheap hooker. Thumbs up, Baby Daddy.  Glad to know I'm good for something.  We haven't spoken since.

  So the crux of the matter is this:  I'm tired.  I'm thru being the chick that it's cool to get naked with but completely off limits to love.  I'm exhausted wishing for something to happen, getting my hopes up, and watching them crash & burn.  I'm tired of being alone, having this huge heart to share with somebody, and only coming up empty handed everytime I think I finally have a bite. I'm done with 'hoping to catch a break'.  I'm realizing now that as much as I don't want to do the solo thing, that maybe that's just whats in the cards for me and there's no point trying to fuck with fate.  I think I finally got the memo, Universe.  You win.