After my Steve from Blues Clues revelation, I dug up this gem for context.

I was not prepared for the men who still have my number to reach out after stalking my TikTok.

“Sir, we are not dating. We weren’t dating at the time of this recording. Why do you think this is about you?” 🧐

This was a jab at my Almost. We were all a bit tired of his indecision. Because whether I care or not to admit it, the people who love me want me to be happy and my relationships can be enriching to a whole community of other people. Love is inspiring, like witnessing charity and kindness. It feels good to see joy and caring. It’s hopeful. And it’s damn funny when you make enough effort to be heckled. It means keep going! Get better!

Ugh. This sums up my last relationship. Neither of them is wrong, but they’re not right for each other.

I went to my local pub for my weekly office hours. The casual acceptance that I’m just another neighborhood weirdo is as close to friendship as I’m allowing in my life these days. People are complicated and my expectations don’t meet their capabilities, but I need a third place.

I’m not oblivious this behavior is going to encourage the other toad stools to see if I’m on the market. I can easily deflect their half ass aggression; they’ve given up serious pursuit ages ago. However, one got particularly courageous with extra liquid cheer and crossed the line into blatant objectification. 🙄

I sat there for a bit and listened to this guy unravel. Trying to walk back his comment just revealing more of his unappealing insecurities about wanting a partner he can emotionally dump on exclusively in the form of fucking and venting to with the emotional depth of puddle. I said that was a lot for one person to manage.

A meandering lecture followed about quarter baked concepts of traditional marriage roles I couldn’t quite follow. Any invitation for my experience with deep connections was dismissed as a “vague opinion”. So, I finally did what a lot of women do when rejecting a drunk hulk. I did my best cover version of “I’m Not Over My Ex”.

What really sells it, is it’s true.

I heard everyone has an almost, and I keep thinking about it because that’s what you are. You’re my ALMOST.

You were my person, but you were not mine to keep.  Only to hold for a short while before you decided to let go.  you are almost it, almost the person that I would spend forever with without hesitation but that dream was to never happen was it? We were built on borrowed time.