Kiki looks into comebacks

The swiftness with which men can almost sense when one may be trying someone new needs to be studied. Is there some kind of bat signal that alerts them the moment one may be emotionally detaching? Because how, how? In the middle of attempting midnight moving on with someone else did TeamThirtyThree know to text me to see if I was free.

Many a weekend and weekday have passed where he could have reached out but he remained silent. Instead he chose the exact moment before I hit the send button on a text to another person to come tapa tap tapping through my phone.

And he is not alone in this knowledge or timing for that matter. Recently my ex, whom I have not heard from in months, decided he too would like to reach out to see if I’m still stupid. I can not say that I’m not. It’s strange how easy it would have been to fall into old habits, but TeamThirtyThree rewired my brain and I cannot accept someone who is not openly excited about me any longer. When I saw my ex’s name on my phone I was more annoyed than elated or flattered- that would have never happened had it been a few months earlier. And even though I picked up, my heart was no longer in it. The heart flutters, the excitement, the nerves they were all gone replaced instead with just this strange indifference. In the halting conversation where we tried to find things to say to each other I realized I was over him like really over him.

Now on the other side of this break up with my ex I know I am angry at myself in so many ways – for what I put up with what I allowed, but as I am wrangling with those feelings I am also at odds with how I feel about TeamThirtyThree who was a safe place with an end date. Was his late night comeback just another version of the half in half out he taught me not to accept. Another disappointment in the making? Maybe because as Brandy once said “almost doesn’t count.”

Kiki looks into first impressions

You never get a second chance to make a first impression or however the saying goes; but, dating apps and the dates that follow really are a series of first impressions. The people texting may end up being duds in person, and duds in texting may end up being the one, because on dating apps there is the online impression and the in person one, both of which are really just first impressions of the same person.

I have had a series of unfortunate events in the first impression department with as many first dates as I have been on. Below is just a smattering of that.

First up was the man who, when I walked in, had such a blue backlight that I did not recognize him, and he did not stand up or approach me. So we sat staring, me confused about whether that was my date and him seemingly nonchalant. When I called to see if that was him, he did not pick up the phone, so we stared for a good seven minutes before I walked up to him and asked, “Do we know each other?” to which he replied, “Not really.” Anyway, that actually was my date.

Then there was the man who was a great texter, so funny. He seemed very worldly and well traveled and had such great stories. Our first date would have gone better had he not had a curfew earlier than my four year old niece. It turns out he was on probation. And all those stories: books and movies he had read or seen.

The date that never showed up but texted later to see how I was. Now, did I ask him if he fist fought his mom based on some inclination I had? Yes. But if he was so offended, maybe he should have said something so I did not drive forty four minutes on a Sunday for a date that he knew he was not going to come to.

I have had a total of three dates who lied miserably about their height, all hovering around 5’8″ or 5’9″ on the profile and 5’2″ or 5’3″ in real life. One man believed his own lie so much so that when I called him out he insisted he really was 5’9″. He said this all while looking almost directly in my eyes. For reference, I am 5 feet.

There was of course the man who used pictures from his glory days and then showed up not at all in his glory days.

One man spoke incessantly about his ex. I finally asked if, were she to call, would he leave this date immediately. He did not say no to this question.

There was the man who took me to a baseball game and kept explaining the game to me while emphasizing that the pitcher was the position he had played. For some reason it bothered him when I asked if the pitcher we were watching was better than him since he was on the field while we were in the stands.

Numerous dates whether in person or on line have felt the need to discuss their sexual proclivities or make the most offensive references out the gate, some using emojis as if that would somehow make it less vile; but there is just something about having to solve a Pictionary style sentence of sexual innuendo that just makes it worse.

And of course the date who made reservations, texted me the reservations, but at the last minute decided to cancel and told me word for word, “Do not bother going to the restaurant I will not be there and I cancelled the reservation I made.” I am not one to leave things alone or be told what to do, so I showed up anyway. He had taken someone else.

Although none of these men were ‘the one’ they definitely were someone.

Kiki looks into age gaps

The truth hurts one time, a lie hurts 7,000 times. ~ Khloe Kardashian

Trying to be in any type of healthy connection after a toxic relationship is not for the weak. Doing it after two back to back toxic situations is nearly impossible. I didn’t even realize just how traumatized I was until I met TeamThirtyThree.

Once I began to see how unhealthy the behavior had been between my ex and me, I allowed myself to go out, date, meet new people, and build up the little self-worth that remained. I quite literally stumbled on TeamThirtyThree during a girl’s night out when a lot of alcohol and extracurriculars were involved. He seemed gentle even in our first run in, and funny. He made me giggle and let me be silly. That was the best part. Surprisingly, that first night, with all my antics, he just played along: never judging. In almost eight years of relationshits, my silliness had been lost; the whimsical, soft part of my personality had been buried, replaced instead with deeply jaded views.

From our first date, TeamThirtyThree listened to my stories seemingly excited to hear them and, in later meet-ups, referenced what applied to the conversation at hand. What a novelty it was for me that someone cared enough to remember the things I had said. Any tomfoolery coming out of my mouth rolled off him; he just played along. Nonsensical invitations were accepted without questioning why I would use silly evites or memes to set up a date; he just RSVPd and showed up. One time, I asked him if he would try a popular TikTok dance trend with me, and he did so without hesitation. I would have never dared ask either of my two past partners, for fear of being mocked. There was a safety in TeamThirtyThree that didn’t exist with the others. He brought out a joy and softness I had forgotten was there. He allowed me to be loving toward him- something that had only been met with rejection from my ex.

It wasn’t all roses, though. My past relationships didn’t allow me to trust him, and I made several comments about him lying—enough that he eventually asked me to stop because of how unsettling it was. It turned out TeamThirtyThree truly couldn’t lie; it simply wasn’t in him. In another instance, we were texting about plans, and I was convinced he would stop replying and not follow through. I was so certain of this outcome that when he did show up, I cried. It felt surreal that a person could make plans, commit, and follow through. That was when I realized how imbalanced my last relationships had left me.

Because I am continuing this blog, it does mean TeamThirtyThree left, but I knew it was going to end, and that was the other part. From the beginning, he was very clear with his intentions, showing me all the information I needed to make a decision about how I wanted to proceed. Imagine that: a casual fling being the healthiest most honest communication I experienced in almost eight years. Right now, sitting with my feelings, I regret the choice I made, and part of me wishes I’d never met him because it’s just another disappointment in a long string of those; but it also shone a light on what I had come to accept and expect as normal. It showed me how I had changed myself and shrunk to fit someone else’s needs. I expected so little that effort seemed magical enough to send me to tears. If anything, TeamThirtyThree returned me to myself. As I am wrestling with the sadness, I am also acknowledging that there is no way I can ever return to the place I was, where I gave up all the parts of myself and my happiness so someone else could find theirs.

Kiki looks into dating… that’s it just trying to date

Dating as a broken person is daunting. Not only are the dates often ridiculous, but I have less patience than I used to. I’m tired in a way that doesn’t show on dating profiles, and that exhaustion makes everything feel like tiny paper cuts on my soul: painful for such innocuous marks.

Recently, I went on a date with a man who turned out to have very, very different views from mine, though none of that came out until we were already face to face.

Don’s profile wasn’t sketchy. There were no obvious red flags or clues suggesting he’d turn out to be an absolute a-hole. Did he have of a “bro” vibe, sure; but, was he also from the East Coast, yes- which is why this didn’t quite line up. When we messaged on the app, things flowed easily enough that we exchanged numbers quickly and texted as if we had been good friends for a while and still nothing alarming came up.

There was one small thing we didn’t agree on, musical artists, but it seemed harmless at the time. Just one of those hmmmm differences I file away and move on from. I didn’t know then that it would end up meaning more.

The day of the date, we met for ice cream and decided to walk around the cute downtown area nearby. It should’ve been easy. Casual. Like I said above two old friends catching up seeing if there might be more. Instead, he decided this was the perfect moment to unload all of his strange relationship predilections. I told him it was too early for that kind of conversation, but he kept pushing. Each comment edged a little closer to subjects I’d asked to be avoided, until I finally had to change the conversation altogether.

At the time, I wondered if I was just annoyed at being out with someone new, someone who wasn’t my ex. This was one of my first dates since the “breakup,” for lack of a better word. Was this actually weird behavior, or , was I just projecting my sadness? It was hard to tell.

But as he kept talking and then mocking me I realized I wasn’t wrong at all. It was in fact intentional, inappropriate border line foul behavior. He was openly supportive of current policies supporting everything I abhor and he wouldn’t let it go. He just kept pushing. At one point we tipped into the absolute abhorrent and very much engaged in an actual shouting match about language, current events, and yes musical artists.

I think my anger and the urge to absolutely demolish a man with all the rage I’d bottled up during my relationship kept me rooted there, shouting back. The fact that we didn’t physically tussle was honestly surprising. But the moment I realized I was on the verge of a fist fight with a grown man, I snapped back to reality: I have a pace maker now and can’t be swinging but there was a time.

I shoved my chair back and stormed off. It would be another month before I considered going on a date.

Kiki looks into intermittent fasting

I intermittent fasted on a date once (not on purpose or anything), but because my date had “made it clear,” apparently, that we were only having drinks.

I matched with Hugh, and we exchanged sporadic messages in the app. I didn’t think it would lead anywhere and was preparing to move on. However, almost at the exact moment I was getting ready to delete the match, as though he had somehow caught wind of this ship-jumping, he asked me out and even planned the day and time. He also did a great job checking in leading up to the date to make sure we were still on. This may seem like an innocuous detail, but anyone dating now will tell you: if they don’t check in, at least day of, that date is not happening. That small gesture buoyed my hopes things would go well.

I arrived before him at a bustling restaurant, where a crowd hovered near the host stand waiting to be seated. I slipped into the bar section and noticed a couple gathering their things. I slid in after them, but the bartender shut it down immediately: that section was closing, he said. Then, as if on cue, another couple offered up their seats and with a menu still on the table! I scanned through the hefty pages until Hugh finally arrived. The restaurant was still churning, so the plates from the previous diners remained untouched. After deciding on my meal, I handed the menu to my date thinking we would at least get a snack. It was in that moment that he looked me straight in the eyes and said, very distinctly, “I thought I made it clear we were only meeting for drinks.”

That was in that instant I decided I would be leaving as quickly as possible. Unfortunately, the Fates had other plans for me. When the server eventually came by to clear the plates, he offered us a bread basket. My date again declined, though he did order himself a drink. I stuck with water, already plotting my escape.

Because of the rush of customers, our drinks took forever to arrive. So there I sat, listening to a man’s life story with not even a crumb of bread to distract me from what had become my loud, growling stomach.

When the drinks finally appeared, Hugh sipped slowly and kept talking. I committed fully to what had now clearly become a water fast. At some point he paused, but I barely noticed. I was too busy watching plates pass by salivating at other people’s meals. When he finally asked me a few questions, I answered halfheartedly, my attention completely hijacked by the cakes circling through the room.

Once the drinks were gone, I ended the date, not because of anything he said, but because I was starting to worry I’d lose consciousness trying to make it to my car. Drive through after a bust of a date just hits different.

Kiki looks into trying again

Two years ago I stopped writing. Not because I met someone and had my happily ever after, quite the opposite actually. Even as I sit here and try to find the words for this on and off relationshit, I am not entirely sure I am ready to write again let alone enter the dating world. Given the last few attempts I’ve had: including actively trying not to cry because they are not Ryan, feeling like I am somehow cheating even though we haven’t spoken or seen each other in months, and one particularly eventful date where I almost fought a grown man (but for other reasons) I am not sure the dating world is ready for me to enter it either. So I think this blog may become a mix of ‘healing journey’ testimony and the dates along the way. It definitely can no longer have a Narnia theme. Narnia ended joyfully for the children and the land. I cannot currently even fathom everything working out in the end; so this may just become a stream of consciousness catharsis where I work myself back to a semblance of myself before we met.

Kiki looks into dating internationally- locally

Although I have been bamboozled a few times by my own people I keep trying to date them, similar to how Edmund knows deep down the queen is bad but just convinces himself she may not be so keeps going back to find her. I am just going to take a minute and revisit going out with my own people which happened not too far in the past.

I had a very interesting date with a man who claimed to also be Greek. Nick was not very communicative by text when we matched and I did call him out on it- nothing changed, so I guess he had the Greek stubbornness down pat. Regardless, we set up a date locally, and we haltingly continued to talk about our common interest- being Greek.

The day of the date I showed up to the restaurant after he did- I was not late, but he had actually gotten there a little early and had the waitress seat him- very unGreek of him. When I asked him where he was sitting instead of telling me where he instructed me to ask the waitress to take me back to him like he was a king of some kind. He did not even offer to come out and meet me at the front of the restaurant. I let the hostess know my party was seated and proceeded to wander the establishment looking for a person I was supposed to recognize from some vague pictures. I knew it was gonna be bad.

When I finally did locate him he stood up and hugged me. It was a very awkward side hug then he sat himself right down, looked me square in the my eyes and with a straight face said, “You are so lucky to be here with me.” That sounded very Greek, but that’s where the commonality ended and it was downhill from there. I could not keep my mouth shut so responded with: “Why would you have that thought and then say it out loud?” He made a wide sweep with his arms seemingly pointing out the restaurant but remained silent expecting me to know what he meant. I just continued to stare at him at which time he filled the silence by telling me he “knew the manager and his friend was part owner” As a note a.) we were not in LA for this to happen and b.) that’s not a personality trait for me to value.

This exchange was quickly interrupted when the waitress brought us each a glass of champagne- he had “taken the liberty of ordering me a drink” but had never asked if I even drank – I don’t. He was upset to find this out. Before he could say anything else, we were brought some kind of amuse bouche. When I asked what it was or what he ordered, instead of telling me he really doubled down on me being lucky to be there with him and replied that: “it was specially made for us.” “From the kitchen,” he continued. I expressed concern as to where our other food orders would be made from but he didn’t get my joke.

Conversation from there on was fairly stilted. We did not see eye to eye on any subject, and as it turned out, he had just broken up with somebody a few days previous. When I said that it was surprising he was dating so soon after he’d broken up with somebody, he did not see why it was “my business as to his dating timeline. ” Then when I was asking him seemingly normal first date questions, i.e. what brought him to California from his home state he stated that-”it was a traumatic event” and I “shouldn’t be asking those types of questions.” To which I spit out, “please learn to lie because that’s a normal question to ask on a date.” It was a very quiet dinner after that.

I guess dating Greek or part Greeks is not in the cards for me. As Edmund and I learned, one should always trust their instincts even in the face of food and drinks.

Kiki looks into dating internationally

Narnia is, in some ways, a foreign land. It’s like we recognize the landscape and the creatures before us in the story but something is always askew. I know that is a faun but why is it talking and walking only on its hind legs? Dating is the same. I recognize the setting and the characters but something is always slightly off.

And lest you believe that my dating mishaps only take place nationally, l assure you my luck follows me to foreign lands as well. One relationship on my travels started successfully enough: I had a summer romance complete with my fling rushing to the airport to see me one last time before my flight took off. Later I found out he had a whole other family. And the rushing to the airport part …well it just happened to be the day his family was returning from a trip and he was picking them up shortly after I was to take off.

But on a more recent trip back to my homeland I decided to give dating internationally another chance. After matching and speaking briefly on the app with Giorgos we agreed to meet in the public square of what is considered one of the most romantic island by tourists. Giorgos met me there dressed in what can best be described as European fashion complete with knock off work boots so I thought hey this might actually go somewhere (I love a good pair of work boots.) He was even better looking in person and I was excited to once again try and date a fellow Greek.

I will pause here to say I do speak my native tongue, maybe at a 3rd grade level, but enough so people understand me. His English, on the other hand, seemed to be much more basic and as we walked we navigated this hurdle through small talk. I kept insisting that he speak Greek since I could understand it better than he seemed to understand or speak; but he was persistent in speaking English. We walked through the lined streets and ended up at a bar half way down some well known steps but which seemed more for the locals. Giorgos, in perfect Greek, was able to snag us a table with an amazing view. After that though he turned to me and continued to try and speak with the very little English he knew.

And the date went on that way. There were a lot of one or two word answers from him and silences. I would ask him questions in Greek and he answered with English phrases. I asked him if he did not understand my Greek and that is why he spoke in English but he claimed to understand what I was saying and said he just wanted to practice his English. And practice he did. It was like I was listening to a duo lingo recording. Whatever Rosetta Stone English Giorgos had practiced before meeting up with me was what we covered so some of his answers did not really line up with the conversation. After two hours of this painful lesson I did not know I signed up for- and with the alcohol not helping in the least – the bill mercifully came.

It was at this point that Giorgos decided he could use our native language. He looked at me and without blinking, in (once more) perfect Greek says: “ So do you want to cover this.” I had been fooled yet again by my own people. I don’t know if this was a racketeering situation he had with the bar or what but I was not about to be scammed. So I responded with “I’m sorry I don’t understand what you’re saying. ” I left Giorgos and the bartender to figure out the bill betwixt them.

Unlike Lucy and her siblings I did not try to return to the adventures in a foreign lands. Dating at home provided me with enough complexes I did not need to seek them elsewhere.

Kiki looks into break ups

People date for all kinds of reasons but generally dating really has an inevitable progression or an end. Clearly my dating adventures have only gone one way. I have had more first dates than there exist frozen creatures in Narnia. I have very rarely gone on many second or third dates. The last post was my most emotional one and the only one written in real time. Although I am still reeling from that heart ache I have decided to continue down the break up path for at least one more post; but this one is much lighter – I promise.

Despite having been dumped several times over the years, it is rare that I even get the chance to break up with someone. But when I do you know it is going to be the most ridiculous time. I was dating someone very casually (read that as you will). It wasn’t going anywhere and I was not interested in continuing it. I knew that I had to end it with Seamus and felt like I should do it in person. Coincidentally, he asked me to dinner shortly after I made that mental decision so I took him up on that offer. I would quickly come to regret attempting to carry out this break up in public.

We agreed to meet at the restaurant where we had our first date, he was already seated when I got there. I spotted him and went to join. I had no sooner sat down and opened the menu that I started crying. Not for any sentimental reason but just thinking about all that he was about to lose: I mean look at all of this I felt bad for him- I kid. He had not noticed yet so was asking me questions about food: what I was going to order, did I want a drink but at that point I was full force sobbing- almost ugly crying if you will- so couldn’t answer. Just as I looked up at him to answer the waitress appeared at our table and is taking in the situation. Seamus was just as shook as her. She didn’t really know what to do any more than he did so we asked her for more time and she walked away.

It is at this point in the evening that I unleashed on this human. But not about what I had intended. No, rather it was a list of things that seemed more like I wanted him to commit. I started telling him that he should take me out more if he liked me so much. I even found myself saying I didn’t think we wanted the same things. Where did he even see this going? I can not emphasize enough that this was a casual relationship (again, read that as you will) and my intent from the minute I walked in was to break up with him. But the words coming out were more like I wanted him to enter into a committed relationship with me. I did not. For some reason I was not able to stop the flood of words that leaned heavily towards be my boyfriend. I remember asking him if he even saw himself married or with kids. The waitress came back at the exact moment I am asking him his marriage plans and can do nothing but take our order as quickly as possible then slink away. Clearly her timing was impeccable and I am sure she was as embarrassed as him.

When she left Seamus started explaining that he was busy with work and it wasn’t that he wasn’t interested in committing, it was just a little early in dating. Obviously. He said he didn’t even realize these were things I wanted because again – casual. This is not how I saw this going at all. What followed for the remainder of the evening was a lot of awkward silences and small talk. When the food came we ate pretty quickly and the rest of the evening played out like a couple who had just had a public fight but nothing had been resolved yet.

I took myself home after dinner and then a few days later texted him a break up, blocked him, and hopefully he and the waitress have moved on and look back at this as a funny(horror) story they can tell.

Kiki looks into quiet quitters

if you’ve been up all night and cried till you have no more tears left in you — you will know that there comes in the end a sort of quietness. You feel as if nothing was ever going to happen again. ~ c.s lewis

Dating is hard- finding someone to trust and who I want to spend time with is hard; but, nothing is more difficult than finding that person, connecting, and then watching the person who once felt safe step back just as I am teetering on the edge. Someone quietly quitting is a heartbreak all it’s own. At least when someone ghosts I don’t have to watch the relationship disintegrate day by day right in front of me. With ghosting they are gone- there is no lingering there is a finality that does not come with a quiet quitter.*

After many, many a first date, the first date with Sebastian seemed like a sigh of relief like I could finally relax. Conversation was easy from the beginning and there was a lot of laughter. No catfishing, no Disney character voices, everything seemed to align. As a side note – I have found it is best when I like someone to be exactly who I am that way they know what they are in for- begin as you mean to go on is my motto. So if Sebastian really was in it as he claimed many times over it was best to be who I would be throughout so he knew. I was untrusting and we hurdled several ptsd flashbacks, but he took it all in stride. He was consistent and reliable. He kept showing up – until he didn’t.

Almost three months from our first date he began to shut me out. Not all at once but slowly. First the messages dried up, he’d text just enough so I knew he was there. Then response times went from minutes to hours. What used to be voice texts throughout the day became one voice text, if I asked. And even his tones changed. Long phone conversations that lasted hours with no one wanting to hang up suddenly felt heavy on his end like an obligation or chore- if they happened at all. The Sebastian who had courted and pursued me decided he’d had enough now that we were in a relationship. The vulnerability and emotion he’d shown was tucked neatly back in and a wall went up. Numerous attempts to ask what was going on were thwarted. And of course the more I pushed the further he stepped back.

I can’t explain to someone what they are unwilling to see. So, although I knew all the reasons he was acting this way he refused to accept it or even admit that anything had changed. Here I was spinning in pools of anxiety, the worse of me coming out in this relationship with a person who was one foot in one foot out. The tangible things to point to as issues, Sebastian insisted were just some voodoo emotional stuff on my end. All I could do was watch him step further and further back like the meme of Homer Simpson sliding into the bushes and nothing would stop the slide. Deciding whether or not to walk away from a person who once made me feel safe is no small feat. It does a number on the psyche.**

* ghosting as a term doesn’t make sense because ghosts hang around much like the quiet quitter actually but I don’t make the labels

** The quiet quitter has officially become a ghoster