No, I’m Not Your Girlfriend

Please don’t ruin this by asking.

I’m at the front door of my new house. Thomas stands there with his laptop bag. The past two days he’s swung over to work remotely while helping me out as I lift heavy things and need boning.

“Soooo…when are you going to be my girlfriend?” he asks. Goddammit. This is a problem of my own doing by kicking the can down the road. We’ve been dating since July-ish and I’ve insisted that I’m not girlfriend material while I still lived at home with my soon-to-be ex-husband.

Except now I’ve bought my own place. I have no more excuses. It’s been three months, he has every right to expect an answer about commitment.

But I don’t wanna answer that.

I’m just not ready.

My first problem is that I haven’t severed ties with other guys. It seems telling a guy, “hey I’m too busy with my divorce paperwork to date” isn’t enough to end a relationship.

Marc, who I assumed I wouldn’t hear from again after I used that line, has resurfaced. He messages every time my company makes the news (which is quite frequent given the shittiness of my company). This week he’s delved into my living situation and divorce status.

Sigh. I thought I had a workaround to a breakup but it didn’t work.

He’s fantastic. Marc has gorgeous hair, his own condo, and a solid PR job. My God, that guy makes me laugh. He finds me hilarious and him laughing at me, in turn, makes me giggle in hysterics. I have never had a bad time with the guy.

Except his place is far as fuck. There’s no parking, so I have to park in his carport if he moved his truck. That means I have to drive us on dates when I’m up there.

Also, Marc is uncircumcised. That shouldn’t matter. Really, it shouldn’t.

Except it does. I’d rather stuff a dead rat in my mouth than an uncircumcised dick. And sadly, dicks matter when you’re dating.

Then we have Sean. Sigh. Sean.

I thought things ended when there was mutual ghosting. I still contend that he wanted to continue playing the field. Since reconnecting, Sean stepped up his game. Constantly texting while he’s traveling to see how I’m doing and asking if I need help.

This is the guy that I thought wanted a boning-only arrangement. We met last spring and I was smitten. Sean was a college football player and now he’s a VP for a medical device company. He owns a gorgeous house in an affluent area.

On paper, Sean’s perfect.

In reality, there are too many “he’s great but..”. He’s great, but he is boring as fuck. He’s great, but he’s too obsessed with staying in and digging into his massive wine collection. He’s great, but he sucks at sex.

I wanted to like sex with Sean. Homeboy is sexy as all hell. The first time was the absolute worst. The second time was fantastic. It’s been downhill ever since. His dick can’t stay hard for more than a few thrusts and I have to revive it orally which gets old quickly. He doesn’t go down. His height compared to my petite stature makes doggy-style logistically difficult.

More importantly, Sean hasn’t communicated what he’s looking for between us. Does he just want to fuck? If so, why does he want me to hang out and chat for hours and why does he text to see how I’m doing emotionally? Does he want a full relationship? If so, why does he just want to stay in and never make plans to do anything?

This week he texted asking if I needed a drink, an ear, or help reaching something high up. I waited a day before replying and apologized, using the new home as my excuse for my tardiness. Sean wrote, “Just let me know if I’m bugging you. Deal?”

That was my out. I should have replied and said that I’m too busy with the new house and getting the kids adjusted to date (if that’s what he’d call our situation). I should have told him that we need to take a pause while he builds his new team and I get my life on track.

What did I reply? “You’re definitely not bugging me :)”

What the fuck is wrong with me?

Sean replies, “I’m glad I’m not bugging you. Lmk if I do though. :)”

Let me pause my writing to bang my head against the wall.

I pick my kids up from school with my head playing Thomas’ girlfriend question in my head. Staying at my place is rough right now and I’ve opted to pick them up and stick around during dinner over the week.

While they’re eating dinner, I talk shop with Joseph. I have a lot left at my old house; I’m not bringing my jewelry to my new house when I’ll have contractors over for a month doing renovations. I also have 63% less real estate and he’s fine holding onto things for me.

Away from the kids’ ears, Joseph tells me how our daughter cried last night missing me. Suddenly, he breaks down bawling.

“I’m not doing okay. I’m trying to keep it together but I’m not doing well with all of this.”

I give him a big hug. I’m awful at physical affection; my hugs are as soothing as a steel robot. Still, I hug him longer than I normally would because I know he lacks anyone else to emotionally comfort him that way.

What can I say? I’m not apologizing for the divorce. It’s all on me that I’ve thrown everyone’s lives upside-down.

“I keep thinking this is a nightmare and I’ll wake up. Then everything will be back to the way it was and you’d still be here.” Dayammm. How do I respond to a crushingly, heart-breaking comment like that?

When I asked for a divorce, I thought he’d eventually agree it’s for the best. Nope. Despite everything we’ve been through to divorce, if I told him I want to try again, he’d take me back in a heartbeat.

When driving home, I remind myself of the reasons I wanted the divorce to silence my guilty feelings.

How can I commit to Thomas when I still haven’t ended things with other guys? I’m not even formally divorced yet (my state has a six-month waiting period).

He has a few red flags that I’m not sure how to handle. He rents a tiny place that he’s blessed to afford because his landlord doesn’t know that he could easily make $2k more a month off it; what will happen when rent goes up?

Thomas’ salary is practically poverty level for a working-class adult. I struggle to date a guy who makes significantly less than I do (totally sexist, I know). I feel like I need to pay for our dates despite that I’ve got bigger bills to pay.

He blows his fun money on his Jeep. I asked him about it and he said his daughter doesn’t care how they live because she adores off-roading with him. I guess I can’t fault a guy who prioritizes memories with his kid over saving for real estate (I want to scream when he says eventually he’ll buy a place; dude, a tiny condo will be over a million dollars by the time you save up for a home in southern California).

Thomas got a $46 parking ticket and was angry because he’s “dirt poor” right now. I’m not rolling in money but in the world of professional salaries in the area that I live, fifty bucks for a ticket is a minor irritation. I know in other places where salaries are less, fifty bucks is a big freaking deal. But if you’ve gone to college and have a salaried job in your forties in California, fifty bucks shouldn’t make you starve for a week.

I’m concerned with his drinking. Thomas isn’t getting blitzed every night but he consumes more than the average person who heads into work the next day. On our dates, he easily drinks a few beers and Old Fashions while I’m nursing a single glass of wine. Plus, it sucks to pay for our happy hour bill when my drink is ten bucks and he’s consumed sixty bucks of alcohol. Maybe parking tickets wouldn’t seem so bad if he didn’t blow his cash on his car and alcohol.

He also doesn’t make me laugh the way I’d like to with a boyfriend. I want Marc-level of hilarity. My dates with Thomas are enjoyable but I can’t say that I’m laughing with him.

Truthfully, I also don’t know if he’s intelligent. Go ahead, call me a dick for that statement. I deserve it. I easily win every debate. Thomas often notes how I’m the first woman to challenge him. Like bro, it’s not hard. I don’t even think I’m smart. I just know that I’m not dumb. It’s a bad sign when you question a guy’s brainpower.

What is wrong with me? This is what I wanted. A guy who adores the fuck out of me and would take a bullet on my behalf. Thomas desperately wants to be my white knight, even if it only means sawing the wood in my backyard for me to fit in my trash bins. When I don’t wear makeup, he’ll look at me like I’m the most beautiful creature on earth. He’s made it a mission to be the best lover I’ve ever had and I think he’s succeeded.

Still, I’m just not ready to commit.

I take a sassy approach to Thomas’ question and say, “I can’t be your girlfriend when we haven’t even gone on a proper date. Where I get dressed up and you come to my house to pick me up. You know…a real date.” Smooth move Einstein, now you’ve created another criterion that Thomas will bust his ass to meet.

“Is that the defining factor?” Thomas asks, genuinely interested in knowing what it’ll take to seal the deal.

Miraculously, I manage to shoo him out the door without answering. Another day of dodging his emotional needs.

How did I end up like this? I’m not a player. Years in a bad marriage turned me from someone who relished arguments to someone who avoids confrontation at all costs.

Ending relationships, even partial ones, counts as confrontation in my books. This is a ticking time bomb that will explode if I don’t get the balls to do the right thing by everyone involved.