SmilingForThePublic1234 Member Profile

...See more Back in April I met a guy in London. From the moment we locked eyes I knew I was done for but what I didn't know was how damaged I was going to be 4 months later. We met at an event and it was the perfect situation. Boy meets girl. Boy likes girl. Boy doesn't immediately tell girl that he likes her. Instead, he just follows her around the room with his eyes until she looks his way and then he immediately (or desperately) tries to find something else to look at so he doesn't look like a weirdo. It was a cute exchange to say the least. Eventually we did end up speaking with one another and we exchanged information. He was quite doting in the beginning. I was his dream girl, he said. Our conversations were amazing. There was always something to talk about, no matter how in-depth or random they turned out to be; there was never a moment a silence. He was just as goofy as I am. Just as emotional. Just as knowledgeable. Just as loving... I'm always myself but he made me feel like I could be completely vulnerable and I was. So was he... until he wasn't. During one of our conversations, I told him I was the mother of two. I think his world shattered when I told him that because he never saw himself dating a woman with children; just wasn't on his life's agenda. Yet he wanted to date me. He didn't tell me until months later exactly why he didn't see himself dating a woman with children but during the months in-between it was a fluctuation of emotions and communication because he was fighting with his own feelings. One day, he would like he could date me and maybe this is okay and then the next, he didnt. Things would seem good and then he would disappear because he felt himself getting attached (his words). That was his way of distancing himself from me because he just couldn't seem to work through the fact that I experienced childbirth already. Despite the fact that he thought I was everything he ever wanted in a human. Everything about me was all he ever dreamt of. Everything except that one thing. That should've been the end of it for me. I should've cut it off right then and there because I know I'm a package deal and if they can't accept all of me then they don't deserve any part of me. But... it wasn't that simple. I had already fallen in love with him and there was nothing I could do about it. My heart wanted him. So, I figured maybe if we kept conversing and he got to know me a little more, the anxieties he felt about dating me would come to rest. But that's not what happened... He eventually, and might I add quite successfully, managed to mask his emotions and pretend the things that transpired, didn't. It was beyond comprehendible to me how he was able to flip his emotions like a switch. It quite literally drove me a bit mad. And the more I tried to figure him out, the higher he built his wall that was keeping me at bay. Yet, every now and then when I wasn't emotionally insane, he would open the small door connected to his wall and talk to me through the latched opening. And for those moments, things would go back to the way they were; the way they were when we first met. When innocent glances were signs of longing and coy smiles were invitations to lips for awaited kisses. This was pretty much my reality with him for a good month and a half until one very rainy June night in London... He was inebriated, I wasn't. I knew I shouldn't have been out there with him but I also couldn't bring myself to leave him alone in the rain trying to figure out how he was going to get home. He was an absolute mess and I'm not a cunt. So, I stayed... trying to figure it out with him, trying to get an Uber. For some reason him calling an Uber to get home wasn't working and I couldn't get his address out of him to save my life so I (perhaps mistakenly) called an Uber to my hotel and took him with me. I'm sure I don't need to say what happened when we got there. I feel like I've been pretty descriptive in this post already. The next day, after reveling in cuddles and talks and soft kisses and thoughts of staying... he left. And for some reason it felt like I would never see him again even though he held me so close I could feel the thumps of his heart beating through his chest. It was probably the hardest goodbye I never said. Fast forward to present day, we still speak but he has completely gone cold and I am completely heartbroken; a shipwreck of emotions surrounded by the stormy waters made up of my tears. Yet, I, still being the hopeful romantic that I am, feel like I shouldn't give up on us. Even though he's showing every sign of not wanting to pursue me any further than being a friend; and he's a rather crappy friend actually because he still keeps his distance to avoid feeling anything because like he said, I'm his dream girl … So, am I making a fool of myself?

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