A walk down memory lane in celebration of the loneliest day of the year

It's Valentine's Day once again....

Two years in a row of getting dumped the month of V-Day. 

I'm starting to loathe day, actually. 

So much so that I deleted Facebook to avoid getting triggered by people's highlight reels of their relationships i.e. the lovey dovey cards, flowers, selfies, walks down memory lane, pictures of date night, GAG....

You know, I always hesitate when it comes to dating. 

I don't frequent bars, so I my social circles consist of my family and people that are at church.... that I would see at church. 

Over the last half a decade, I've resorted to online dating to get my face out there in hopes of finding my one and only. 

The process has done nothing more than completely diminish what little self-esteem I once had. 

Let's take a walk down memory lane...aka...my sad, pathetic love life.

I was bullied elementary through high school for being chubby, flat chested, having big teeth, and a pizza face. I had guys pour milk down the back of my shirt during lunch time and even had my crush yell down hall ways each picture day to announce that I was on my way to get my picture taken and they should hurry to get theirs done before I broke the camera. I didn't get boobs until the summer of junior year. Real ones. I no longer had to stuff my bra with oranges or socks. Shortly after, I had my first boyfriend. We dated on and off again for 5 years. Then, we finally decided to go our separate ways. 

Prior to moving out of Ohio, I dated a 6'4 ginger that I nicknamed Hunk. He was ripped, loved cars, and had had a crush on me since we were in middle school. I never gave him the time of day until senior year of college. He became my best friend (still is, actually). He could never tell me he loved me, so instead we coined the phrase "Lobster Bisque" whenever we'd get the warm and fuzzies. On one occasion, we got into an argument while he was down at school. It was the beginning of winter and I was still up in Wooster. He was afraid of losing me and drove 2 hours in the frigid cold on his motor cycle just to wrap his arms around me and tell me that he didn't want to lose me. When my graduation approached, he told me that he doesn't do long-term relationships and if I didn't move there after graduation, we wouldn't work. I gave up an offer for a full time teaching position close to my hometown and moved to Columbus. I was a substitute teacher during the day and worked at an Irish Pub at night and on weekends. After two years of dating, he admitted that he didn't want to settle down after only having had me be his only girlfriend, which is man code for " I want to fuck other people." That fizzled, so I set out on my own and moved to North Carolina. 

I dated around and met some amazing people. I had established a Fayetteville Family. I met a guy that I was so in love with that we would actually make a code word when we wanted to bail on our friends just to go back to the apartment and hang out by ourselves...it was called "Shabooms." When we first started dating, he had nothing in his apartment except clothes strung all over the floor, a mattress on the floor and his TV. That's it. When we started dating, I pulled some strings and got him an entire living room suite, a bed frame, food in the kitchen, plates, silverware, and all the clothes that had once been on the floor were hung up in his closet. I even inspired him to get his driver's license and a car. I helped him with his resume, fill out his FAFSA, and file his taxes. I was his life coach. 4 months into our relationship, he got fired from the Army and had to move back to his mothers. He was afraid to tell me, so he kept me out of the loop until a friend had spilled the beans. The morning of his departure, he told me he'd always love me and we belligerently wept excessively until we were both out of eye sight as we drove away. We wouldn't last in a long distance relationship, so it was over. That was that.

My friends were tired of me crying all the time and encouraged me to date a friend of theirs. So we did. We had sleepovers, went out to eat, and went to hang out with friends together, we went to the beach together for his last vacation before deployment, all the while keeping everything above the waist. The night before deployment, we slept together for the first time and fell asleep tangled in each other's arms. I drove him to the green ramp and waved goodbye as he loaded up for Afghanistan. I had said goodbye to all of my friends. My Fayetteville family had all flown to Afghanistan and my lady friends all moved back to their hometown until the guys returned. I went ahead and moved to Tennessee.  Little did I know that during one of my long-distance phone calls to my new beau, I would find out that I was carrying his child WHILE on the phone with him. We were going to be unexpected parents. We were both shocked, but promised to both take responsibility for our actions. When he came back to the states during deployment for his father's unexpected passing, I flew to see him. He kissed my belly, introduced me to his mother and friends. I was baby momma. When I flew back to TN, his phone calls and messages fizzled. He had changed his mind about being a dad. He wasn't ready and decided that our son was better off never knowing him because he had never wanted to be a dad and this....our child...was a mistake. Ironically, he knocked up another girl and married her when he returned from deployment. The second unexpected pregnancy changed his views on being a dad because he had another daughter just a year later. 3 kids over the course of 2 years. Phenomenal. 

I focused the next few years single-handedly raising my son, working full time, and finishing up grad school. Essentially, I was getting my life together and growing up at the same time. Finding myself. Getting adjusted to my new life of never getting a break, never having alone time, never having a night out with people my own age, not hanging out with anyone but family and my son. I didn’t even let my son spend the night with anyone until he was almost two years old. I’m not going to tell you how many nights I cried myself to sleep, or hid in my closet crying while my son cried outside my bedroom door, or cried in the shower because of my failure to keep my son’s father around and for stuffing my emotions whenever my parents asked what was wrong with me.

To gently ease myself back into the dating realm, I created an online dating profile. I looked for guys who I was attracted to, who had clean profile pictures (meaning their rooms looked clean/not cluttered), had nice teeth, were at least 6’, had steady jobs, and a drive/passion. I set out to find ‘love.’

The first guy I met and actually dated from the online world appeared to have been everything I'd ever wanted. Tall, handsome, nice teeth, steady job, college grad, close to my age, and funny. He went to church regularly, I became close with his mom, we had everything in common, liked the same kind of music, could talk for hours on end, and he was great with my son (he wasn't the father.) As the year progressed, I had an egging suspicion that he was lying to me. To start off, he told me he gave up porn the day we met because I was just so hot and he didn't need the images anymore. The lies would eventually add up to him having 20+ dating profiles on casual dating and porn sites, his name wasn't even what he had told me, he was 25 not 27, he dropped out of college freshmen year, he still lived with his parents (actually, never had moved out), and he was dating another woman 2 months prior to me breaking things off with him. I had been duped. 

I met a rebound guy who jumped off the page when it came to conversation. We went to the park for our first date and talked literally for 5 hours straight. He liked me so much upon our initial date that he deleted his profile and wanted to date just me! I felt wanted again. We hung out for a few weeks and I struggled to not compare him to the last guy. I was afraid. I heard from him during odd hours because he worked 3 part time jobs. I couldn't stop transferring those negative memories onto him and told him I needed to back out. 

I took a break from dating again until I could handle being around another person without transferring negative feelings and memories onto him. I even joined a Recovery group at church to deal with my struggle with forgiveness and pent up anger. My backbone was renewed. I was stable. I created another online dating profile. Dated a guy for 3 weeks and he dropped off the face of the earth the moment I let myself open up again. Once again, I was not worth fighting for or worth keeping.

This leaves me to the most recent breakup. Initially, when I hung out with this man, I didn’t even bother dressing up. He’d come over after I had finished working out, so I was makeup free, still in my running pants, sweatshirt, and sweaty. I would make dinner. He’d bring over a bottle of wine. We’d watch CW Vampire Diaries and Originals together.  Then, he’d go home. I wanted him to know me. The real me without the facade of dressing up, going out, and having awkward conversations. I wanted him to know all my quirks, habits, and hurts. I wanted to know me. The real me, so he did. After a month, of dating, he wanted for us to be exclusive and actually be officially boyfriend and girlfriend. I was ecstatic. I was chosen. I was SEEN. I let down my guard, was transparent with him, and dated him despite our differing religious beliefs. He was atheist and I was Christian. I never invited him to church, but spoke of it often since I went…often. I was active in my church serving as a Small Group Leader for Kindergarteners, attended Monday night’s Celebrate Recovery groups, and was a part of a single parent’s bible study group on Sunday evenings. He was well aware of my son, but only had met him once in passing when my parents dropped him off early. However, the issue was never pushed for him to meet him formally, but he knew I had hopes of one day having another child. One day as in at least a decade from now due to my semi-permanent birth control. We continued hanging out, talking throughout the day, and meeting each other’s family. We looked forward to seeing each other, falling asleep in each other’s arms, waking up next to each other, enjoying dinner AND breakfast together. I would make dinner, he’d clean the kitchen. I’d wash his clothes, and he would spoil me with affection. I was finally opening up again and allowing myself to fall in love with this man. Then, his communication with me started to break with me when his gaming became more of a priority. I’d get replies to my texts late in the evening and apologies stating that he’d make it up to me. Just when I thought things were great after 3 months of going out of our way to visit one another and make this work….I received a text explaining that he thought we should break up because he didn't feel as if he was ready for a full-time relationship. Talking at least once a day was too much. I being a Christian was overwhelming to him. I being a mother and hoping to have another kid far into the future was too much for him, so he ended it. Just. Like. That. It wasn’t me; it was him.

Once again, I wasn’t enough. Or I was too much for them. Either way, I wasn't chosen. Instead, I was forgotten.