Tuesday, September 6, 2016

I Wore It Anyway

I thought I would wear it for you, but I didn't. I knew you weren't going to be there, but I wore it anyway. I wrote about it already. The blush dress and the gold sneakers; I ended up wearing it for myself.

There were so many different scenarios. And the one that my gut was screaming about ended up being the one that came true. There's something going on. You're flaking on more than just me. You weren't where you were supposed to be. I would have recognized your arms. And you would have seen me and acted like all was right between us, sweet talking by the end of the night. I hope when you come around again that you offer up the explanation I deserve. But most of all I hope that you're okay. 

I've envisioned so many nights with him. He made me picture a future. He practically forced it down my throat until I was willing to take it on my own accord. And then when I did take it, I was happy and excited. And now I'm so mad that he took those feelings from me. He cut us both short.

He could never spell my name right. Nearly every conversation we had he ended up asking me what a word meant. "Desensitized" was one of them. Maybe I'm insane, or maybe I'm just openly admitting what every woman hides inside of her own mind, but at this point I don't even care. I bought this blush dress to wear with him on a late Sunday night. And even though I knew he wasn't going to be there, I wore it anyway. 

Instead, my best friend stole the night away with me. We sang. We sang loudly. We giggled and vented. We ate Mexican too late and caught a few major brain freezes while sharing a peach margarita. Ice cream followed. And all the while, we're still talking about him and his alarming level of dumbass charm and idiocy.

Maybe he'll come back around. Actually, he probably will. But I have a feeling it'll be too late by then. I've lost trust, but my interest is still there. And I'm not sure that's enough now. Because he could have been with me that first night. Or that second night. He could have seen me just a few days ago. And any one of those nights I would have worn it. Instead, I knew I wasn't going to see him but I wore it anyway. I was sick of saving something for someone that didn't deserve the extra thought. 

And after all that, Lauren, the best friend that ruled my Saturday night really tops it all off in a way that's truly poetic to my life. This is our conversation once we both were home safe.

Lauren: Dating websites aren't terrible.

Grace: Until I run into someone I know. How embarrassing!

Lauren: Not embarrassing. Plus if you know them and don't talk to them now, they suck.

Grace: hahaha I dunno. Seems weird. Like. eh

Lauren: I'm sure there are weirdos but there's gotta be some good ones too that don't want to go to bars and have nowhere else to look.

Grace: Yeah. Maybe. I don't think I'm ready for that leap yet. What if it matches me with {insert ex-husband's name here}. I WOULD DIE.

Lauren: His would say "men." I know you're not ready for that yet, but don't get rid of it.

Grace: Yeah I won't. I just want someone fun and taller than me and manly and passionate and will argue. Also, ***doesn't wear scarves or capris. 

Lauren: You'll find him, you just may have to get through a few shitty ones first.

Which got me thinking. What even goes on a dating profile? Should I just redirect all prospects here? That should weed out some of the bullshitters pretty quickly. Should I tell them random things that could scare them off and just get that out of the way? Should I try to be semi attractive, because at this point I have no idea what that may be....

My name is Grace. I write most of my days. I read most of my nights. I have fun working at a bridal shop. I have even more fun being a mom. I was married once. It obviously didn't work out. My clothes always seem too big, I'm working on buying the correct size. I don't have nice legs, but my hair is pretty on point. I have no gaydar so please don't try to trick me. I won't say yes to a date if you have an extreme love of skinny jeans or pomade. If a Disney vacation isn't in your future, you suck, move along. I like fall, lipstick, cranberry colors, freshly vacuumed floors and having someone else cut my grass. Please don't be creepy or weird.

I guess that could be a good start, when and if the time comes. All I know that is I'm done buying a particular something to wear on a particular date. Instead, I'll rummage through the closet and refurbish old memories. Because I bought that blush dress to wear for someone else and I'm not even sure he's real at this point, but I wore it anyway and had a pretty great night.

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