Online dating

So I signed up for a few online dating sites and so far haven't been out on a single date.
This seems to be the norm from what I hear.
There are a few things that really annoy me so far that I'm gonna share with y'all. Maybe a few men will read this and take some pointers.
1. Your Profile Picture
There are a lot of idiot guys out there, and us girls are looking at online dating as a way to avoid them rather than find more. Maybe you men don't realize the importance of the picture you post, but us women are analyzing them for clues about the person you are. There are a lot of REALLY BAD pictures out there! I don't mean just unattractive men, everybody has their own type, and attraction is entirely subjective so if I don't find a man attractive then oh well, I'm sure there is someone out there who will.
What I'm referring to is the subtext of your picture, the message you are sending to all us women out there that has you comin across as a jack ass.

DO NOT crop a pic of you and your ex and post it on a dating site. It sends a clear message that your either still in a relationship, or recently broke up. Neither of those are attractive. It also implies laziness on your part that you can't take a new picture.
DO NOT take a picture of yourself in your messy messy room. Get off your ass and clean it. Nobody finds slobs attractive. NOBODY! If you're determined to live in filth, you will be living there alone.
DO NOT post a pic of you in a hat and dark sunglasses. Sure it's your style, and that's all fine and good, but women want to see what you look like. If you have to post that picture make sure you have another one posted that shows you without them on.
DO NOT post gym pictures! Great you work out, that's awesome and that probably shows through in pictures of you wearing your clothes and not dripping with sweat. Not that us girls don't enjoy all your muscles and the effort you put into them, but the fact that in the middle of your workout you stopped, posed in front of the full length mirrors and snapped a picture or several makes you look like a vain and arrogant asshole.
DO NOT not post a picture, if you don't have a profile picture posted then we assume you're a nasty looking perv that we don't want anything to do with.

2. YOUR PROFILE
A blank profile gives us nothing to work with, no information means no response.
BE HONEST if you're just looking for an easy lay than say so. Women respect honesty.
DO NOT say you're looking for your soul mate, then say you're not really interested in dating. It's a stupid waste of everyone's time.

3. OUR PROFILE
If you want to respond to someone's profile make sure you read it first! It's really annoying to get a message asking you all the things that are already posted for all the world to see. It shows that you aren't capable of paying attention, not an attractive quality.
Don't message a woman and ask for more pictures. The ones we're comfortable with posting are already there. Asking for more sounds like you want pics to jerk off too, which is nasty!
Don't message a woman's profile with a ridiculous "dtf?" if you do you're an idiot. There are plenty of sites available for all you pervs that just wanna screw random people.

Nightmares return

The cold hard hands that I once trusted are wrapped around my neck and I can breathe.
He wants to kill me, wants me dead, wants me to suffer as much as possible at his hands.
My arms are broken I can't fight back
Try to scream but no sound comes.
He's smiling over me as he chokes the life out of the body he's ravaged.
In the corner I can see my son crying and everything begins to fade and go sideways.
A random noise wakes me and I'm sobbing. Thank god it was only a dream, for now.

Dating...

On our walk to school this morning my son asked me when I was going to start dating. A curious question to me, when I was his age, even though my parents had been divorced as well, I was still unable to imagine my parents with anyone other than each other.
"I'm just really tired of having a dad that's never there for me. Maybe if you meet somebody nice and like them a lot they could be like a dad to me."
I hate these moments that bring to light just how aware of his father's faults my precious child is.
How badly he hungers for a male role model, and how he knows his father will never be able to be that to him. It makes me want to cry over that loss for him.
How I wish I could find that great man, the one who would love him and care for him as I do, as a parent should. It reminds me of my own hunger for companionship, for a partner in this all too often cruel world. Someone I could be vulnerable with.
I hate how lonely I've become, my animal needs panting to be satisfied, while I truly long for so much more. How I so honestly pray to find someone, but keep myself so distant from even the possibility of finding it because of my fears over being hurt.

Returning to the world

I don't know why I left the comfort of myself. I longed for the companionship I know I'll never find, despite wanting to. Thought maybe the familiarity would be comforting. It was at first, til it got annoying. Suddenly there was someone else in my space, in my life talking when I wanted silence.
I've never understood this world, this life and the people in it.
I wish I could return to when I thought I had it all figured out, before I grew up and realized I had it all wrong.
I'm naive enough to think people think like me about things, promises matter, trust and privacy are important, as is respecting boundaries...and I'm constantly disappointed to find I'm wrong...that people make promises they never plan on keeping, think of humans as property they can own, control, manipulate into being something else, someone else.
I reverted to a former form of myself, one that I despised and vowed to never be again. But I'm a sucker for the sweet talk and promises, so of course I get burned.
Sometimes it's all about timing, and this was one of those times: a vulnerable and lonely single mother with her child in the hospital wishing like hell I had someone to lean on, to take a little of weight off my shoulders for a minute.
Maybe it was the emotional strain and being the kind of tired that only comes from having a sick child. Sleeping like a feather, on alert for the next fit of coughing, constantly worrying over symptoms not improving.
I was tired and weak, God forgive me for reaching out to my ex-husband at such a moment.
And then came the swindle, falling for the lies of the bastard that had ignored his own son for years, who hadn't used any of his allowed visitation or paid a single dime of child support.
But I'm the dupe that fell for it, the happily ever after family fantasy that I'd always wanted.
But that's why they're called fantasies, they never come true.
Little did I know that just a few short months later I'd have it thrown in my face, "you never should've called me," and, "I shouldn't have come up here."
"I only came because he was in the hospital, but I should've said no."

And here I am. Alone. Again. With a whole new set of crushing worries and stress to wade through.

But once again life goes on.

mother's day

It’s been a while since I’ve written. Horrible, I know, both for my credibility as a writer and my sanity.

These last few months have been a whirlwind of events and emotions, and I’m still working on wrapping my brain around everything that has happened…

Mother’s Day is almost here, one of several days out of the year that I have come to dread. It would be easy to ignore the day completely if I were not a mother myself, but alas, I am. It’s another one of those days that I find to be bittersweet, even sorrowful. My son is still young enough to revel in the joys of glitter and macaroni on cardstock and I have imparted to him the importance and sentiment of homemade things over those store- bought, just as my mother did for me as a child. However now the joy and pride and swell of emotion that every mama feels well up inside of her when she receives a crayon family portrait is now accompanied by the stark reality that my mother is gone.

For as many years as I can remember I’ve always tried to make something beautiful for my Mama on her special days: birthday, Mother’s Day, Christmas. Trying somehow to express the immeasurable love I felt for her in some visual capacity. I remember as a child we would frequently make crafts for no given reason other than having fun. Melted crayon and wax paper sheets cut into various shapes, how she would iron them if the sun wasn’t quite warm enough on the patio that day. The paper ‘diamond’ ring I made her when I was five or six, colored with gold and blue crayons that lived in her jewelry box and now lives in mine, all the things I made over the years that she saved.

After my son was born I became even more sentimental, which I didn’t know was possible. I made scrapbooks and wrote poems, baked cupcakes and pies. Once I had my grandmother send me, cross country the proper ingredients and recipe to make her favorite: mincemeat.

Maybe it would be easier if I had long ago given up the practice of making gifts for my mama, if we weren’t such a creative and artistic family, if I didn’t miss her so much, if, if, if…. If she weren’t gone…

As I’ve written it’s begun raining, a light misting rain to match the tear drops that slide down my cheeks without me noticing. …

I know she knew the love I feel for her, but I still want to tell her and show her and make her pretty things to express that love….but I can’t send her a Mother’s Day card in heaven, can I?

thinking....

"The world owes you nothing, it was here first." -Mark Twain

insomnia again...

So here I am, again. Wide awake and mind reeling while I should be snoring and dreaming. Dreaming is difficult lately...nightmares.
I am doing a little self-analysis, well okay, a lot.
My son was hospitalized for pnuemonia recently. One of the scariest events in the adventures of single mommy-hood.
For a week at home he was sick without getting better, then for six days I stayed in the hospital with him, THANK GOD. He was so scared, but tried to be brave. He cried, not about the needles or the IV, but because he feared he might die...."that's what happens when people get really sick in the lungs Mama, like Gramma did." Oh! What a knife to the heart, my poor little baby.
The year old loss of my mother still a fresh wound to us both.
He wouldn't believe me when I promised him that wouldn't happen, so I had to get the night nurse and resp. tech to tell him too.
He finally relented, "okay. But I'm still scared."
Well of course you are, that's a perfectly natural response. Is there anything I can do to help you feel better? At that moment I would've given anything to make that little boy smile...
He thought hard for a minute, his brow furrowed, before a look of profound sadness came over his cherubic face. "No...nothing."
"You're wishing your dad could be here too, huh baby?"
and the tears ran, soaking the front of my shirt. At that moment I had never hated my ex-husband more. It had been over two years since he had heard from his father, the supervised visitation schedule ignored.  The anger management and parenting classes never taken. The angry outbursts in the court rooms that my saw, thankfully, didn't see or hear. It had definately made my life a little easier, but it had made my son's so much harder.
The questions that I couldn't answer were frequent the first year.
He went to counseling, learned that it was okay to both miss his father and be angry with him for his absence.
"It's okay Mama," he said glumly, "I know we can't find him." He wiped his eyes and stared in the corner trying to stop more from coming. The emotional wave crashing over him made it even harder for him to breathe. He became more pale than he was already.
"I'll try to find him, okay? I can't make any promises sweetie, but I'll try."

Later I paced the hospital parking lot, crying and praying, and crying some more.