Hey Soul Sister!

I woke up at 3 am and went to the kitchen. I thought I'd get a bowl of rice and a glass of water. Oh the perks of living in sin with an Asian, there's always fresh rice.

Jay: Bad dreams?
Me: Is there any other kind?

Yesterday was my sister's birthday. I guess she's 41 now. The days are long but the years are short. I don't really think about my family. Both my therapists are not fans, they think of them more like an infected limb I should cut off and be done with it before it spreads all through me. Does that hurt? Don't do it. 

They are probably right. But my sister. We've been through a lot together. A lot of her problems, she was never around for mine. I was always there for her though. I haven't seen her or my mother in over three years. Since she invited me and then uninvited me to her wedding. One of the biggest traumas in my life, I have to admit. When she gave me the invitation I said, are you sure? She said of course, you're my sister. Then the elders got involved and even though I'd bought a dress, wrote a card, had the wedding present, I wasn't allowed to go.

My family came to Toronto and drove by my place on their way to the wedding. I was sitting on the window in my pjs smoking. Yah, I used to smoke. They honked and waved like it was any other day of the week. I went out and drank until I didn't have any more feelings.

That was a long time ago now and I've found mothers and fathers and sisters and brothers. Not by blood but out of love. I understand why my therapists and everyone else wants me to stay away from my family. The blood ties though are strong and pull at you every once in awhile. These people are pretty much strangers to me at this point but I still miss them. And wherever my sister is, I hope she's happier than I was in that life and wish her all the best.

Sullivan out.

Beautiful Trauma

The older you get the more you realize that your problems are not worse than anyone else's, just different. My guy always says "First World Problems, Margaux". He didn't exactly grow up here so he gets to say that.

I can't help but wonder though, can two broken people make one whole amazing person if they are together? Because we've all got our demons. I'm throwing the question out there but here's what I think: yes and no. We need to keep working on ourselves. Every day. If it's a bad day, go to bed and start over again tomorrow. Tomorrow is always new with no mistakes in it.

I don't believe though we're meant to go it alone in life. Whether it's a romantic partner, a best friend, a mentor or family, we need someone to be the mirror back to us. Because what we see in the mirror is not always accurate. Unless you're a millenial, it's probably self-defeating sometimes what you see when you look at yourself. (No hate for millenials but they think they are the shit.)

I'm a late bloomer. Took me a long time to realize the type of people I needed around me. I tried to go it alone for a long time because I couldn't figure it out. Then...I found people as perfectly imperfect as I was. Jay is my real mirror, him and my best girlfriends. We're honest with each other, we keep trying to improve and we make each other better. Together? I think we can be amazing and make something beautiful out of the ashes of our pasts. :)

Sullivan out.

Ready to Run

When I got married, I knew I'd get divorced. My dad was walking me down the aisle and before we started he was like, we don't have to do this. We have a car outside. We can just leave. Shoulda, woulda, coulda. 

One of my favorite ex boyfriends used to call me "Little Flight Risk". He was a great guy. Wanted to marry me and have kids. Been there, done that. Not the having kids part but the wanting to.

I've become famous for leaving jobs. A friend called me the other day, he was like, just checking in. Wanted to see if you still had a job.

It's difficult to trust anyone when you've lost everyone. I really don't think I'm cut out to be a corporate Bay Street bitch anymore, so I think I'll just open a flower shop and put that MBA to good use. :)

The guy I'm with now? Oh, he's not my type. And how many times have I run away? I can't count. But. The other night I was freaking out because I was writing a paper and my printer stopped working. I'm old school and I cannot work on the internet. I needed my paper copies of all these studies I'm analyzing. So he went to an internet cafe (yes those still exist apparently) at 1 am and printed them all off. He won't let me quit my MBA (I have one course left so that would be stupid) but he doesn't want me to be unhappy. He always tells me to just go back to the flower shop and learn as much as I can from my boss and we'll figure out how to get our own thing going.

Sounds good to me. On one hand, I'm like where exactly was all this acceptance, support and love when I was growing up? On the other hand, I finally found it.

Yesterday was his birthday and I always think a birthday is a new beginning. If I were him, I'd start the new year by kicking me to the curb, but he hasn't so I'm pretty sure we're end game. I have loved very deeply in the past. While I still try to be a good person, I also try not to love too much because it always ends up hurting me. Before that happens, I run away. There is however something to be said for sticking it out.

Oh, the perils of self-improvement. This time I'm not leaving because it's worth the work to stay. Dammit. Guess I'm just finally in the right place. To quote RuPaul (which I never do) "If you can't love yourself, how the hell are you ever gonna love someone else? Can I get an Amen!" Amen.

Sullivan out.

This is about Nothing.

well it's happened. i feel like i need to write, but i have nothing to say. not entirely true, i have lots of things to say. but there are thing i protect and won't talk about, like family and friends. unless it's positive. if you want to know who in my family has the worst secrets (and it's a toss up, spoiler alert!) you'll have to wait for the book, which will only be published after i die. :)

speaking of death, jay was amazed last night to hear i'd already planned every detail if max's funeral. hey, he's a big dog, he's not doing to live forever. i've planned my funeral, why shouldn't i plan his? his is going to be so much cuter than mine. when all you do is work and study sometimes your mind wanders.

i'm a planner. i figure i feel too much, been through too much. i'm a pisces, so whatever you feel about anything, double that, add in some drama and then double it again. if max just dropped dead they'd probably have to put me in a psych ward. he is the best thing that ever happened to me. that homeless helpless huge puppy. i always call him my love because he is. with my funeral no one is coming. (except a very small guest list, you're probably not on it and i've paid jay to get bouncers.) max though, is everyone's dog and it would be selfish of me not to share the grief this time. so i plan it now, halfway thorough his life and i get 5 years to come to peace with it. which we all know i never will but at least i'll be better prepared.

turns out, both my "kids" are almost exactly me. max is having a sleepover party tonight so i'm home alone with rosie. she kinda scares me. if max exudes the please love me, i'll do anything for you side of me, rosie is the other side of the bed. hey, i know how to stand up for myself and i've been doing it for years. that's why y'all love me right? i've done the brave honest thing till it hurt. rosie takes it one step further. i could learn a thing or two from that tiny little kitten. jay says rosies' go-to is: lick, lick, BITE. she's your friend. until she's not. then she makes you bleed. for all my friends with kids, this excludes children, she respects them and would never bite your child. please don't be afraid to come over.  

in the end, she spends a lot of time in her cage. she'll scratch until you bleed, then go pee on your bed. she'll eat your flowers just because she knows you love them more than anything else in the home. stuff you don't care about? she'll never touch it. but she WILL destroy your roses. the cage never teaches her a lesson. it's almost like she likes it in there, quiet time alone to contemplate how she'll take over the world. she becomes totally calm. it's disturbing. she is however very loving and loyal to her half-life partner (cause cats never die) max.

at the end of the day, all i can say is thank the universe i have a boyfriend / man-friend/ lover/ husband/ best friend whatever you want to call him, who would notice i was missing if i died and come find me before rosie ate half my face because i wasn't able to feed her. this whole blog is very morbid but if you were in my messed up head, you'd think it's really funny. i'm laughing :)

sullivan out.

Cockroach

It's been awhile. Anyways, sorry but I've been really busy. Let's just do this quick. So I'm talking to my ex boyfriend tonight (it's his birthday) and yesterday was my birthday so we're both very Pisces. Somehow in conversation I said, Yesterday Jay said I was like a cockroach.

Him: Does he ever say nice things about you?

Me: That was totally a compliment.

Now, should I see a cockroach in my apartment? Not a good thing. But you have to respect those little mother f*ers. One of these days, the end of the world is going to come. And you know who is going to survive? The cockroaches. You can try to kill them. You can poison them. You can cut their heads off. They will stay alive. That's what they do.

If one message to you is my only purpose in life here it is: I've been to purgatory, I've looked Hell itself in the face. I'm still here. I'm still happy. :)

Of course there was a snowstorm on my birthday. The weather was crazy. Friends are cancelling plans. The whole time, I'm just thinking, bring it on. When/if (that's a big if) I'm not around anymore, please remember, you weather the storms and eventually life gives you a break. Right now, I love my job. I have the perfect dog. Awesome friends, the best boyfriend. I know none of these things will last forever and that it has taken a decade to rebuild a life I left. I feel like my head got cut off and I was wandering around without one for awhile. (btw what do cockroaches do when you cut their head off? do they grow a new head?)

It's good and it's sad at the same time but I'm starting to forget them. Even my family. I try to bring up their voices in my head sometimes and I can't. All the photo albums are in storage, I don't look at them. I'm the marketing person for my firm now and we need to spend a lot of money to get new sites photographed and I thought for a second oh my sister is trying to do a photography business maybe I should get her the job. Then I remembered, I can't, because she shuns me. She wouldn't pick up the phone call.

I wonder how they would feel to know they aren't punishing me anymore because I almost forget they exist. They are there, like characters in a book you wish you had never read but you had to read it to get to the place you're in today. (Kinda like every textbook I've read for my MBA :)

My family was my MBA in life. There's a few good ones left (Grandma!) but for the most part, I honestly don't need anyone who doesn't believe in me. I think I'm imperfect but at the same time thoughtful and kind and I give anything I have to anyone who needs it. Jay sees that in me. I think that's why he loves me. But he also loves the cockroach who can't be killed no matter what life throws. He tells me I'm the strongest person he's ever met. I don't feel strong. But maybe, just maybe, I am.

One of my most special old life friends always told me, The past is like a rearview mirror. You should check it sometimes to make sure you're in the right lane. But if you stare into it, you'll crash. 

He was right. I learned that the hard way. So take the easy way. Grieve when you need to, but leave the past in the past. Get your head cut off, but grow a new one. A better one. And then, never, ever take for granted your second chance. For me, this IS the afterworld. And it's lovely. :)

Sullivan out.

Fake Plastic Love

I've always been a romantic. Until nine years ago when my life went upside down, then I became a cynic. The little girl who used to hide under trees at her dads place in the country to write stories disappeared. I started writing again after that, but it was angry. What can I say? It's always been my release and the JWs really needed to be exposed. Fortunately, a lot of other people started to think that too and I don't feel like it's my battle anymore.

The funny thing about romance and love - any kind of love: family, friends, boyfriends...it can look like the real thing, feel like the real thing. Doesn't count for anything if it's not. Don't get me wrong, nice gifts, fancy dinners, expensive hotels...all perfectly nice. Having a girlfriend who tells you you're her best friend and feels like you're a sister to her...is nice.

Trying to figure out which people are genuine and the ones who are fake can wear you out. Who is using you and who is just in it because at the end of the day, they really do love you.

I know y'all are tired of hearing about my boyfriend. We are not perfect. We've been in and out, on and off for years. I didn't think he was romantic enough. I didn't think he said "I love you" enough. But the devil is always in the details.

I wasn't allowed to watch soap operas before (another fun JW fact - no soap operas) but somehow between three jobs and doing an MBA I've got myself hooked on a Spanish telenovella. At first I was always rolling my eyes about how dramatic it was but then I realized my life has been pretty damn dramatic too. (Without all the murdering of course.)

Anyways, the girl had to pick between two guys. The rich, suave, probably hits the gym about 16 hours a day guy or the nice guy. I'm always rooting for the nice guy. He's smart, he always says the right thing, he's loyal to a fault. I've been with both kind of guys, many times.

It's Thanksgiving right? I love this holiday. Because it's not about presents (which I also love) or over the top anything, it's just about being grateful for what we have. Jay came home last night with a huge turkey. Things haven't really been going my way and I wasn't planning on cooking all day. I told him all my friends are with their families for Thanksgiving and it was too much. Side point: I don't have a family. He just said well, look across the street. You've got a dozen homeless people in that park. We'll invite everyone and if they're all with their families we'll share what we have with those people who don't have anything. Still wondering why I root for the nice guy?

It's never fake, or plastic or perfect even. But I always know where I stand and whether or not I'm loved for just being me. Fake wears me out. Truth keeps me with a small amount of hope that I'm okay, that everything is okay. That's the way it always ends in the telenovellas, doesn't it? I do my best but I can't be who you want me to be all the time, that's why I left the cult right? :)

Sullivan out.

About a Boy

How long have I known Jay? Who knows at this point. Five, six years? Maybe seven. My new life hasn't been longer than nine so he's been around for a lot of it. We're friends, we date, we break up, we're friends again. The only thing I know for sure is we never leave whatever this is.

As y'all know I haven't had the easiest time adapting to life on the outside. Jay is the one person who always saw through whatever I was going through and could see the real me. Not that he ever knew me in my past life, he got the other version of Margaux. But to him, that version was still smart, funny, beautiful and worth loving. He didn't take my crap though. That's why we kept breaking up. He's not like me. He doesn't have some profound need to be liked that makes him put up with bad behaviour from other people. He sticks up for himself. He sticks up for me.

I'm learning slowly that the only way to love someone else is to love yourself first. I've had a lot of boyfriends. And I don't think I ever realized that I deserved to be treated well. That I shouldn't put up with being male dominated, put down or lied to or cheated on. None of us do.

So at times, I've been a very bad girlfriend to him. We were younger then. We partied too much. Didn't sleep enough. Fought too much. But there were good times. He forced me to love Game of Thrones and implemented "no pants Sundays". He could iron chef something awesome from nothing in the cupboard.

Then we started to grow up and things started getting real. My cat died and I had a puppy dumped on me. I got sick for quite some time. I went home indefinitely. Jay would send me care packages with new clothes. He'd visit me every day I was in the hospital. Text me in the morning and ask what I wanted to eat because I'm picky and he knew I wouldn't eat hospital food. When one of my best friends was dying he'd drive me to the hospital and wait outside.

He supports all my stupid ideas like coming home randomly with new animals and doing an MBA while I work. Anytime he's off work and it's a nice day he takes us to the beach because that's my favorite place. He's been there for my siblings and my girlfriends and makes sure my dog is taken care of. (Max loves him to death but he's still mommy's boy.)

I guess all I really want to say is, we don't always understand where big love comes from. I worked on Bay Street for years. All those flashy guys in suits with their expensive cufflinks and even more expensive cars. The guys you'd meet in the cool bars who all had their wedding rings in their pockets so they could pick up girls.

Real love is every. fucking. day. Good times and bad. Pretty or ugly. Money in the pocket or broke as hell. Nice vacations and then the years you can't afford to take a vacation. Shopping at your favorite store one day, dollarama the next. Sacrificing for the family. Before him, I didn't know what it was like to have someone accept you unconditionally. Flaws, imperfections, bad habits. All the things you try to hide. Guess I'm just really lucky I got so many chances to get this right. :)

Sullivan out.

Adam

Sneak peek. I'm finally writing my book. I decided to call all the chapters by peoples names. You can tell me if that's a good idea, leave a comment. Apparently though you have to have their consent or if not change their names. So Adam is reviewing this one. 

Adam

When I met my ex-husband, I was still in the cult. I thought, this is as good as it gets. I was 16. Even if our marriage was far from perfect, I still think that having grown up the way he did, he was a pretty good person.

Not a good husband.

I married him but I wasn’t in love. On the outside, we were perfect. On the inside I was dying. I’m a romantic. He had every excuse in the book to not come home. Hockey, golf, boy’s nights.

I was at a point in my life where I was questioning the Jehovah’s Witnesses belief system. But of course you can never talk about that, or you will be labelled an apostate and shunned by all family and friends. Which did happen to me. But before that…

I met Adam.

We were work friends for two years. He was someone I could finally talk to about the truth. In my other life, nothing you ever did was good enough. Taking care of all these people, volunteering all your time. Didn’t matter, you just had to work harder. Be better. You are never good enough. Especially if you’re a woman.

Adam loved me just the way I was and with all my imperfections. We could talk about anything for hours. It happened organically and we never officially crossed the cheating line. Except I did because I fell so in love with him that I finally found the strength to give up everything and everyone else for the chance that we’d end up living in a house on the beach and having strawberry blonde children.

Every time I walked into the office my heart would beat faster. Every time I got a message on my phone I hoped it was him. I had never felt that way about anyone. 

Stuart, my ex-boss/ex-boyfriend took me out for drinks one night while this all was happening and he said Mahhhhgaux (he’s British) married men never leave their wives.

Adam is smart. He is handsome. And kind. And as much as I tell myself he never really loved me I think he did. When it was over, I tried to kill myself. After everything I had lost, I couldn’t imagine a life without him in it. Without the beach house and those kids.

Whatever the outcome was, Adam was my BIG love and the catalyst that got me to wake up and get out of the cult. I will always love him for that. I owe him my second life.

With or Without You

I can't live with or without you. - U2

Last night was Nuit Blanche, so like everyone in Toronto, we were wandering around at 4:30 am with my dog looking at bad art. Nuit Blanche used to be cool, before the hipsters ruined it. They are the worst. That's why I stay east end instead of west end now. West end is full of damn hipsters.

So we're talking about love last night. I've been in love enough times. I think my dance card is full. And this is probably the last time for me. But you never know. I've dated a lot. Like a lot a lot. And I can truthfully say I've only been in love five times. That's a pretty good number in 20 years, I've been lucky. I don't know really how love works but I rate that number on how many times I've cried over someone for longer than a day or two.

There was the first love of course. They say the first cut is the deepest and that one hurt. But not the worst. After him came my husband. That one hurt more. Then came the guy I left my husband for. That one was very, very bad. Probably more because of all the things I gave up for him than being about him. After that, came that guy who used to be my boss.

I was talking to my mentor the other day about the current guy and he said he thought it was a good thing. I said, well you thought the last one was a good thing. He just said, I knew you loved him. And I really did. Said mentor and his wife have been together forever. Raised a family, pursued careers, traveled. They still love each other after all that time. Although I envy that, apparently the Universe didn't think that was my path in life.

Back to last night. We're talking about love. And he says that it really doesn't mean that much when someone says "I love you". (Effing psych degree over there.) But I thought about it, and he's right. All the men I've loved have been completely different. I really did love each of them. I said those three words. They were there at different times in my life, when I needed them to guide me somewhere. I don't regret any of it. At the time, I couldn't live without them. He said what would mean more would be if someone said: I can't imagine my life without you.

I can't imagine my life without him. At least not at the moment. Sidepoint: I couldn't love anyone who didn't love my dog as much as he does. 

It's scary to love again after you've done it and been disappointed with the outcome. I've realized there is no "the one" for some of us. There's the one who is supposed to be there in the here and now. The difference with him from all the others is that he loves me just the way I am. I don't have to be anyone I'm not, look a certain way. He's been there for me through countless terrible situations. He just holds my hand and says "we've got this" every time. And somehow it always works out.

The most significant, important love of our life is figuring out how to love ourselves. If you find someone who loves the you that you love, well that's just icing on the cake. Nothing makes me happier than coming home and seeing those stupid boots he wears year round in my entrance way. I can't imagine my life without you JJ. :)

Sullivan out.

My Funny Valentine

"To love oneself is the beginning of a life long romance." - Oscar Wilde

Before y'all go getting all excited, no I do not have a boyfriend. I have however been on two dates in the past week with the same guy and I think he'll be back for a third so that's progress for me. Not that I'm opposed to having a relationship, things just never seem to work out.

This blog is a shout out to one of the most important men in my life. We dated on and off for awhile but could never really seem to make it stick. We have completely different work schedules. I don't really care for most of his friends. His parents hate me. They call me the "white girl". (Hey, reverse racism is a thing people!)

On top of that, I was a terrible girlfriend. I cheated on him. Twice. I asked him once if we could get back together and he just laughed at me. Despite all of this, he is one of the best, most loyal and longest term friends I have here on the outside of my past life. He likes to call me a motherfucking piece of shit, but it's basically a term of endearment. :)

I honestly would not have made it through the past few years without Jay. Sure, we fight sometimes but I always know if I need him, he'll be there. Right away. No questions asked. He rubs my back when I have panic attacks. I can't tell you how many times he's taken me to the hospital. One time I thought I might actually die. Jay stayed with me all night and all the next day until the doctors figured out how to fix me and then he took me home.

He makes sure I eat. He came with me when I had to put my cat down and we both cried. My dog seems to have as many health crises as I do, and when I can't afford the vet bills he helps me out. He always wins Christmas, he says he wants to make it a happy time for me since I didn't have it growing up. He made up "no pants Sunday" where we would just wear big tshirts and lie around watching Game of Thrones. He's kind and generous and smart. When I was out east last summer he would send me care packages with new clothes because I went out there with a small bag, not knowing how long it would be until I came back.

Jay has been my rock and I hope we're friends until we die. My friends get all excited when I date someone new, because Margaux really doesn't really date all that much. I don't really feel like I need to. We will see how new guy does, but I have so many great guys in my life including my dad, my uncle, my boss, my roomate, some great ex-boyfriends. I bought myself flowers for Valentines Day because I'm actually starting to get the hang of this self-love thing. I wouldn't have made it there though without those men.

So JayJay - happy Valentines Day lovie. I love you  so much, you motherfucking piece of shit. :)

Sullivan out.

What Women Want

I know what you're thinking...and you're right. Why should you take any kind of dating advice from me? I'll be the first to admit, I'm terrible at it. Not at the logistics so much. I'm pretty good at pouring a glass of wine, putting on some red lipstick and choosing a cute outfit. Or making you a picnic for the park. I'm also a pretty good kisser. 

It's the making it last part that I suck at. Romantically at least...I seem to have no problem staying awesome friends with all my ex's. Seriously, I still meet up with them for lunch or coffee or drinks, get together at Christmas, sometimes they'll send me pictures of their new baby.

I have however dated a LOT. And have a handful of girlfriends who tell me everything about their experiences. I've talked to men, to women, to gay and lesbian friends and there are some fundamental things you should know about the woman in your life. I'm just going to share what I've heard. 

1. Don't lie to us. Women in their 30s have seen enough bullshit to be able to identify it. But we are still romantics. I happened to meet three Irishes in a row. One of them said on our first date: "I'd love to take you to Ireland with me." I knew it was a lie but...swoon. Another one asked if he could see me again and when I asked when? He said tomorrow, the next day, every day. He never even called me again. So guys, you don't have to be so over the top. If we like you, we'll probably see you again without all the grandiose claims. Just tone it down a notch. 

2. If we do end up sleeping with you at some point, please call the next day. Not for a big conversation, just say "Hey, I had a lovely time. I would love to see you again." It would literally take you five minutes. Text messages just don't have the same impact. And I mean, we did sleep with you after all. 

3. Get over yourself.  If you feel the need to tell us on the first or second date that you're "not looking for anything serious" that translates in our minds to: "I'd love to sleep with you and never call you again." And then we'll walk away. Who says we're looking for something serious? We've known you for five minutes. Give us a little more credit than just being some girl who wants to tie you up and drag you down the aisle. A lot of us don't even care about getting married and having kids anymore. Life has changed. 

4. Sometimes we just want you to listen. You don't have to fix us. We can fix ourselves and we know how to do it. We have our girlfriends, our therapists, our careers, our interests and hobbies. But if we've had a bad day, we might just need to talk it out. If you can listen without saying "um hmm" while looking at the tv or computer or iphone, bonus points to you. If you can give us a hug, even better. :)

I can't speak for all girls, but having been the girl whose boyfriends buy her fancy dinners, chic hotel rooms, Tiffany jewelry, expensive perfume, pretty shoes...one guy even made me furniture...I can say all of those things are greatly appreciated. But we'd give them all up for someone who makes us laugh, who appreciates our intelligence, who gives us a hug when we're having a bad day. 

A lobster dinner never hurts though - just FYI. :)

Sullivan out. 

A Few Good Men

I have another funny date story from the weekend. I met up with 27 yesterday (This is a new 27, not the one from last year. He's 28 now, even though I'm still just 27.). :)

We went for brunch, he's super cute but as I had anticipated, a little too 27 for me. We went back to his place which was around the corner and watched funny videos, laughed, talked. He has THREE roomates, guys walking around half naked from the shower in a towel or eating scrambled eggs with way too much ketchup. I accidentally let the cat out and ended up chasing her/him around the block because God forbid I lose a guy's cat on the first date.

As he's surfing the net for fun stuff to watch he pulls up my blog. Apparently I'm not as well hidden as I mean to be. I thought you'd have to at least know my last name to find me on Google but apparently "Margaux+blog+Toronto" can get you there. My blog, right there, first option on the list.

So now the gig is up, but I'm not really all that worried about it. First date, would I prefer you find out who I am by spending a little bit of time with me instead of reading my entire life story on the internet? Sure. But reality with Margaux means you'll hear the whole thing eventually, so if you can't handle it, best you move on now before I care about you too much.

I wrote a blog awhile back called The X Factor, and at that time, I really did believe you could stay friends with someone you've been romantically involved with. Now though, especially after the events of the past few weeks, not so much. You can, until you decide to move on, get back in the game, then apparently you become the worst person they have ever met.

I have to interject here, after spending some significant amount of time listening to girlfriends complain about their current relationships, that I do believe it is the brave and honest thing to do when you end a relationship that's not what you're looking for and decide to be alone again instead of living a dissatisfied and un-true to yourself life. But that's just me.

Anyways. There is one guy who was an awesome boyfriend and never pulled the after break-up shit. I was thinking about him today when he popped up on FaceBook chat. This is the guy who was not only a great boyfriend, he was a great after-boyfriend. He never read my blog and sent me nasty messages because I was seeing someone new. He never called me names or deleted me from FB or made me feel bad for going back out there to try to find what I wanted.

I know what y'all are thinking, ohhhh The American is always the perfect guy on this blog. But he pretty much is. And now he's coming to New York which is a hell of a lot closer than he ever was since he left Toronto.

Would I like to move to New York and marry a lawyer? Hell yah. But I'm pretty sure that ship has sailed. Most of the guys I've dated the past couple of years have been pretty nice (with the exception of the lying, sociopathic, shit-disturber, you know who you are) but at the end of the day, there really are only a few really good men out there. Don't let them get away!