Wednesday, April 28, 2010

Mr. Dog Park (otherwise known as Mr. Man)

It's been just over a week since I admitted you y'all (and myself) that I have fallen for a 55 year old man.  Mr. Man has become lovingly referred to as Mr. Dog Park among my small circle of friends. 

I don't mind saying I've been stuffing my face in a feeble attempt to heal my poor little broken heart.  My weakness, unfortunately, is both salty and sweet, so the choices are endless...donuts, chocolate bars, wine gums, potato chips, pastries, ohhh my mouth is watering just thinking about it.  And I'm not going to lie...I've had a cigarette or two (or 10...) in attempt to fill this little void inside my heart. 

The worst part is that I still run into Mr. Dog Park every now and again, and he completely ignores me.  It tears me up inside.  For me, seeing Mr. Dog Park makes my day, it makes me happy.  For him, I've become a moral issue where he feels he is being asked to choose between her (together 27 years and lovely) and me (new and mysterious).  I understand this.  And I understand why it has to be like this.  In my head.  In my heart, I just want to run up to him and beg him not to ignore me.

All weekend, I planned this perfect speech.  Oh, it was perfect.  I practiced it to both BFF1 and BFF2.   I traded this word for that, making it the perfect combination of unassuming and friendly.  It was funny, it was serious, it was tongue in cheek.  It was everything I needed to say.  Monday comes around and Mr. Dog Park is (get this) at the dog park (I know!!!) I get close to him, take a deep breath, prepare myself for the words I've spent all weekend repeating over and over and over.  I open my mouth, and out comes a whisper, "Please don't ignore me," with a feeble smile.   Folks, I promise you it did not take me two days to come up with that lame sentence.  While I might not be the most eloquent person ever, I certainly can come up with better than four little words like "Please don't ignore me."

I guess I really am 32 (gasp!) because I've done some pretty adult-ish things with this whole situation.  First of all, while I've been tempted to play the temptress, I've not done it.  I've realized this is a huge test for me.  Have I changed my ways?  I can talk about how I've changed for the better, can I back it up with actions?  Oh. Yes. I. Can.  This is a huge shocker for me...it's not always about me.  In this case, the only part that involves me is walking away.  I know, how adultish of me.  I really, really am so proud of myself for growing up.  For thinking with my head and not my heart.  I'm a grown up *giggle*

I'm taking this for what it is: affirmation that I am not the woman I once was.  If I take it as that, and only that, I can see the change in myself.  And that makes me happy.  I'm still standing.  I'm alone, and I'm okay.  I've also learned something about what I'm looking for in my future partner.  I know, now more than ever, that I want a man who knows how to take care of his woman.  I think that's what the older man symbolized.  And maybe I like Italian men. 

Yaaaaa, Italian men are HOT!!

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