Of Course I like you. You’re an Asshole

I pulled up the text messages with clearly mundane, disinterested replies. I gave a huge throaty sigh, And as if a mother or great friend were scolding I heard myself say:

“Maggie of course you like him, he’s an asshole.”

~

So I am doing the Internet/Smartphone uhh…”dating” thing. 

Actually don’t really like it, and don’t believe I’m going to meet “the one” this way, but figure I could use the practice, and some of the experiences I’ve had have been these wonderfully weird stories to share. Which IS one of the fun things about dating in my 30s compared to my 20s.

 In a good way, I care less.

20s: Does HE like ME?

30s: Do I like HIM?

20s: He hasn’t called even though I texted him hello, what did I do? Maybe I should text one more time. I’ll add a cute unnaturally-posed selfie so he’ll be reminded of how pretty I am.

30s: Wait, that guy I saw last week hasn’t called. Oh well.

Where’s the beer I ordered?20140908_205413
Ya’ll wanna go home soon
I can’t wait to take off my bra.

BUT

(There’s always a but)…

I have noticed one habit I still haven’t completely shaken off that really needs to get squashed once and for all. And I am glad this has come to my attention NOW…while I…practice…”dating”…

I still go for assholes.

Oh yea, I used to date assholes. Chase assholes. Fall in love with them.

Spent the last year or so addressing this pattern, but hadn’t really dated to put into practice what I’d learned. Then recently I started to notice who I was paying more attention to.

The guys that didn’t have any descriptions on their profiles. The guys that looked like my asshole exes. The guys that didn’t want to actually meet me they just wanted to text a lot. Red flags. Everywhere.

And then I thought about the few exes I couldn’t say were jerks. I met them through friends. They were weird like me. They were dorky in some way like me. They were kind.

Touche my friend.

Touche.

Time to completely swipe left.

Maggie xo

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