I’ve been called “babe” a lot in my life. And not in a she’s hot and sexy type of way (LOL) but strictly as a term of endearment. And that four letter word can make you feel so many things. Things you shouldn’t feel.
“Babe” will trick you, and have you feeling like you’re someone special to someone who’s really not that into you and really isn’t that special to you. But – that’s the thing…men know what to say, don’t they? Some men are simply pros at hitting the sentimental nail on the head and then driving it home.
I’m no one’s babe, really. So, I wonder why these men insist on calling me babe. What happened to my name? Have they forgotten it? Or perhaps they never knew it at all.
There are other terms of endearment that people give in to when we’re feeling our way around that awkward getting-to-know-you phase. And those carefully placed terms of endearment are supposed to make it easier isn’t it? It gives a false sense of intimacy that I guess is supposed to help things along. I personally don’t like to use terms of endearment unless I really feel interested. If I don’t feel that (like you’re a sweetheart, or my honey) then it feels stiff and foreign rolling off the tongue. And then I’m left sounding distant and removed while you eagerly call me Babe…
I stop before I start. The words, special ones that will make you understand, won’t come. They’re hiding, just like I am now.
I drink, not for liquid courage but to dissolve my chagrin. It’s working, but the side effects are regret and anguish at choices I made in happier times.
It’s too hard loving you so fully and being shunned so subtly.
The telltale signs are the rising panic in my chest and that funny, irritable feeling in my nose before the tears come and I know you can’t ever love me, the way I love you.
And I can’t help to think what a fool I am.
I am taking a permanent break from you and no, I don’t wish you well.
I wish me renewed insight and resilience to cope with another heartache/break.
I know I can feel better and hope that it will be one day sooner than if I’d never wished for it at all.
I just woke up from a dream about you. I had to travel to TX for a conference on child welfare. I hit you up, of course, and asked if I could see you after the conference was over.
When I arrived at your place, you were on the phone with someone. You were telling them that your last relationship was with a woman who lived in Nebraska. You mentioned that you thought she was beautiful and had an amazing personality but you couldn’t do it – Nebraska was just too far.
Of course, thinkaholic me wondered if this was foreshadowing for what you would soon tell me. I waited until you got off the phone and we hugged.
There was a wedding happening in the courtyard. We were not invited, yet we had front row seats to the entertainment. I wanted to dance. You did not. I was dismayed and pouted a little but you didn’t care 😆. Anyway, the night was winding down. My flight was at midnight. I was standing next to you and impulsively decided to kiss you on your neck. You then leaned down and gave me a kiss on the lips. I remember it was 9:30pm. You alluded to whether or not we were going to have any of our own fun. I remember thinking, “why’d you wait so long?” Nevertheless, I was down. My heart started racing and my little lady started pulsating at the thought of what was about to ensue. Wherever you lived had 2 different bathrooms right across from each other. We each went into a respective bathroom. I remember that I felt nervous, like there wasn’t enough time to do anything before I had to go to the airport. You were in your bathroom, singing loudly an unknown melody. I came out first, listening still to whatever you were singing and thought that there wasn’t enough time and I should just go. Then my alarm went off and I woke up. So I don’t know what dream sex feels like with you, unfortunately…
Summer…thus far it has been interesting to say the least. I’m still dating but I can take it or leave it.
Who knew finding a partner much less a husband would be so much work? Well, I knew but I forgot how tiring and annoying it can be. What really bothers me is the sheer amount of men who don’t know how to spell and have very poor grammar. WTF is going on in the world? I know it can’t just be me…it can’t. I’m not looking for a scholar or a genius. I’m just looking for a man who knows when to use “then” and when to use “than”. A man who knows the difference between “your” and “you’re”. When I say it has been difficult and damn near impossible to find a man who does – I am NOT exaggerating. I am so dismayed. Bad grammar is one of those things that you just have to accept about someone or move on. It’s not like bad fashion sense which can be fixed…Bad grammar/spelling is really hard to change. If you’re almost 30 and still don’t know how to spell, there’s no help for you – I’m sorry! And I know that people are living life and don’t care about grammar or spelling because they know enough to get by BUT it drives me insane…
Social networking and technology have also shed a lot of light on those with less than stellar grammar. A man with poor grammar now has a variety of ways to show off how much he does not know via twitter, facebook, Tagged, LinkedIn etc. Bad grammar is also evident when texting, which is the best form of communicating (it seems) for new age dating. I may not have had so much exposure in the past because there weren’t really many opportunities for a man to express himself to me in writing except the occasional passionate love letter, birthday or anniversary card. But I live in a time where I will inevitably bear witness to how well a man expresses himself in the written form and I am disheartened. I am simply disheartened that there are so few men who know how to string a well-constructed sentence together. Sigh…what’s a girl to do?
Confessions of a Thinkaholic 