So Why Now and Why Here?

Good question.

It’s actually a two in one story.

I’ve been told that I have a way with words and ideas that seem to go deeper than the average bear (yes, a Yogi reference and to my nom deplume). Often enough I started to believe it. And while going through my divorce a decade ago I started journaling to record; exorcise; vent and ‘shoot ideas down my arm from my brain to a pen so that the notepad couldn’t sleep but I could’. It became a habit. Any time I had some joy or grief or a puzzle to work out, I found throwing it on paper seemed to relax my mind enough to re-focus on priorities and, when I went (IF I went) back to look at it, the paper version seemed like it was someone else and i could more easily unravel the issue as I was now ‘third party’. Call it giving yourself advice.

Eventually, I had quite a pile of assorted notepads. And in several locations, just in case I was inspired in the garage, truck, office or bedroom. Now if I’d only taken the extra step of filing them all in one place when full. And perhaps filling them completely before starting another. furthermore, when I scribbled something on a Postit Note or a random pice of paper, maybe put that with the notepads. Yep, I had casually created an easter egg hunt of what amounted to a decade long diary of rantings; out of context and undated descriptions of events; dating frustrations and ‘experiences’; and notes I took while reading NMMNG and other RP material during my post-divorce rediscovery of reality (and ME)

Skip to 6 months ago and Covid. A long term (5+ year) on and off gf suddenly had more free time (her youngest was about to graduate HS and go play hockey out of province and my career had been effectively killed so I was temporarily 9-5. Since up to that point, our schedules had only allowed every second weekend together, we thought it cool for her to come hang out here for longer than a weekend at a time. More fun; lots for her to do for exercising around here; and far less lonely than two single parents living apart in their little Covid worlds.

So after a summer of camping and golfing and fun, I decided to make the place even nicer. Had the carpets and tile cleaned; finished some projects around the house; made the place more “Us”

So while I was at work she decided to go deeper than cabinet doors and floors and really started cleaning . . . .

Yup.

A case of Redbull to her hamsters

All the girls I dated when she and I were split; notes on dating apps; Red Pill notes and my opinions (and reinforcing stories); odd little bits on approaches I made (or intended to pursue)

She said nothing. For a while. Until she had “cleaned” everything

And then D-Day

She had 364,000 accusations and questions. I was offended by the invasion of privacy

Yeah. We split

We tried again recently as our physical attraction and sexual compatibilty were off the charts but she couldn’t unsee it and the doubt and nagging questions kept coming up. And I was firm I wouldn’t rehash the past.

So now I restart. Approaching rather than the dumpster fire of online dating. My text game was good (see my penchant for writing in vivid detail) and once something was started it was fine. I just want to skip the long tiring step of vetting for attraction and style by simply approaching women I find attractive and seeing what happens. No wasted texts or chats only to finally meet someone who posted pics from 5 years (and 49 lbs) earlier

So here we go

-CD