🙋‍♀️ I Have a Question

4:19am

Evidently this is my new wake up time.

Can someone please explain this phenomenon?

Why do we wake up at the exact same ungodly time?

We pop up, lean over, and look at the clock.

And there it is.

That same fucked up number all lined up just like it was yesterday, and the day before, staring back at us.

Typically this happens when we are “going through something”…

I suppose I am.

Aren’t we always?

That was rhetorical.

I am not interested in the fact that you are not, as not only aren’t we friends but we cannot be.

It is a prerequisite that you be “going through something” at all times in order to be my friend.

And by “going through something”, what I mean is that you live in full awareness of the fact that you are human and that all we do is go through things. If you are one of those who has convinced themself that they do not, then we will have nothing in common and our friendship will be a shallow waste of time.

I am much too busy going through being human with other human beings.

This prerequisite is not as much elitist and exclusionary as it is practical.

I do not have (or wish to take) the time to explain things to you.

There you have it.

I have digressed to such a degree that I might have to write two stories.

So.

Back to the topic at hand.

The topic that is front and center at 4:19am this morning.

My question.

I am not exactly sure how I found him.

I have been asked many times which requires that I disclose my quirky and perhaps creepy pastime, which btw every person ever, has, yet simply will not admit.

I just bounce around instagram going from one person I’ve never met to another.

I go from zero to 100 degrees of separation and wind up following some rando who said something funny or profound.

Yes, that is me.

And I see you.

I met someone on Clubhouse, which is not exactly a meet per se but an introduction of sorts. He was speaking and apparently said something of interest. I followed him assuming he would continue to do so and I wanted to know about it. I am not sure he did again or does as I have found CH to be too much of a timesuck for me and am not consistent enough to actually follow anyone.

I became quite enamored with CH initially as I found it novel and it seemed much better a mindless option than scrolling through Instagram or watching TV.

I even found it to be inspiring to me professionally.

It feels social and there are interesting and relevant discussions happening all hours of the day and night.

So I was following some guy and wound up on his Instagram, as they are linked, and he said something about this other guy that was really nice and I had no choice but to go to that guys page.

I would like to mention that this reconstruction of the route by which I found “him”, is speculative, as it was so circuitous that I cannot really recall.

I simply need a solid story to shut up all these askers.

I am so fucking tired.

I decided a long time ago that it makes no sense to lie in bed and try to sleep.

Get up and get something done so that you can justify an 8pm bedtime.

CH tangent.

Never really went for the followers.

Initially I thought it might serve as some validation for my value or my worth.

Tell me I am funny or smart or interesting. Follow me.

I will try to say some really cool and profound shit.

Then I found myself in rooms with people who I could barely listen to, we are talking nails on a chalkboard, who had 4k followers.

Mental masturbation.

And we were done with that pursuit.

Not only am I not gaining followers, I am losing them.

Each time I go onto CH I seem to have fewer.

Ha.

Actually ha.

To me.

Who loses followers?

Me. That’s who. I do.

Despite this, I think CH was the origin.

Of him.

I don’t expect you to follow or remember. I am aware that I am tangential.

The route was circuitous and somehow found me on the page of some guy who looks 40 (which is not my thing) and who had a funny meme that transposed baked goods and pets.

Mind you, it wasn’t that late and I was not in an altered state.

This is actually just funny to me.

I forwarded it all over town and probably annoyed most of my friends and certainly all of my children.

For whatever reason I thought this guy should know that his months-old post with the baked goods was funny.

I am assuming he thought so also or he would not have posted it.

I wanted to validate him.

I commented.

As a result of my stranger comment, my 21yo god-daughter has awarded me epic status for my boldness.

I am not bold.

Just a laughing emoji.

Which on a sidebar I have been informed is an indicator that I am old.

Which technically, I am.

Apparently the “cool kids” use LOL and last I checked, I was neither.

Cool or a kid.

Whatever.

I was not hitting on him or trying to seem young.

I appreciated the comic relief.

Days later (maybe it was one?) I received a “like” to my comment.

Which comment?

I did not actually remember his name so I did not recognize the notification.

I think I may do this more than I realize.

Comment on old posts on strangers’ profiles.

I went to this liker stranger guy’s page and I read his profile.

It said “Still on the waiting list for Raya”

Am I allowed to use the actual?

Or should I say an elite dating app?

I notice that people don’t want to do that.

Are they afraid to get sued?

Really?

That seems ridiculous.

Whatever.

I will ask my editor.

Back to the guy.

So that is also funny. The waiting list bit.

To me.

For lots of reasons.

I was right about this 40yo guy

He is funny.

Funny is everything.

Certainly primary.

I am still not hitting on him.

Just appreciating him.

And he is cute so I feel less bad about my own “waiting list” status.
Btw, I did not want to apply for Raya.

One of my bf wanted to and asked (insisted) that I do it with her.

I don’t do dating apps.

Even elite ones.

I am not there.

Maybe I will be someday.

No judgment.

I am simply not there now.

She really wanted me to.

And so I did, knowing that one, I would prob not be accepted, as like CH I do not care how many followers I have on Instagram or whether they are verified, and two that I did not have to go live.

I have been down this path with her before…

I got the rejection letter.

They claim there is a “waiting list”.

Soon after being rejected I began the conversation about this “waiting list” and people came out of the woodwork.

“I have been on the WL for years”.

“Me too”.

And for what it’s worth, these ppl have lots of Instagram followers and lots who are verified, which is what I was told is the ticket…

It is a hoax.

In their attempt to be kind? (prob not) they are misleading those who actually care.

And all the while not really great PR for the app.

If no one ever makes it off the waiting list, that doesn’t say much for the effectiveness of the app in matching people…

Get my point?

Good.

Keep up.

I am exhausted tired.

Hopefully this will not be difficult for you.

So we have established that he is funny.

My kind of funny.

Pets, baked goods, self-deprecating.

So…

I screenshot my rejection letter from Raya and I send it to him in his dm.

He thinks I am making fun of him.

Noooooooo

That is MY rejection letter.

We are kindred spirits.

Haha

I did not say that.

Well.

We started communicating and have been for two weeks.

On the phone, on the text, on the dm…

Which leads me to my 4:19 wake up call.

Things are going to take a turn here.

If you aren’t into it,

Bail now.

I feel invested.

I have shared a lot.

We have been intimate.

He is not 40.

He is age appropriate.

Unless of course he wants to date 30 year olds…

Jury’s out.

He makes me laugh.

A lot.

Out loud.

Yes, LOL.

There is more.

Other stuff that I can’t articulate.

Butterflies.

Chemistry.

Can you have chemistry if you have never breathed the same air?

I think you can.

And I think about him more than I would care to admit.

I was hiking with a friend and telling her the story.

She told me to watch “Love is Blind”.

She told me a little about it.

I don’t think it is a good idea.

I am already telling myself all sorts of stories.

None of them great.

I am confused.

and curious

and scared

Scared that I am missing something.

He has not mentioned wanting to see me.

Live.

In person.

We have spent a lot of time together.

I told my therapist about him.

I sound like a weirdo.

What am I missing?

He lives less than one hour from me.

I am afraid to ask.

Never ask why.

Therapist trick.

It creates defensiveness.

You do not get the answer you are looking for.

And you certainly do not foster trust or connection.

My sister tells me to “go with it”.

Wtf does that mean?

Let it be “Organic”.

What the fuck does that mean?

It is organic.

I am feeling esp vulnerable rn.

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