Your intuition… it will lead you in the right direction

Ladies, guess what? Your intuition? Yeah, it’s there for a reason. The theme of “gut instinct” has been overwhelmingly present in my life the past couple of weeks, so I’m just going to take a hunch that I need to blog about it.

This video has nothing to do with this post except that it says “Intuition” too…

Many of my girlfriends the past three weeks have all told me something, in their own relationship, that they’ve had a “gut instinct” about. Either they knew they were going to be proposed to, or felt something was “off.” Listen loves — those instincts don’t come out of nowhere. It’s God planting little seeds to either prepare you or protect you.

For instance, I remember one night with an ex-boyfriend. We were with a group of people at a carnival of sorts, and overall I think we had a great time. But for whatever reason, as we were walking together through the crowd of people, my got a huge knot in my stomach. Something wasn’t right. I knew something was off, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.

Fast forward a week. I remember at the time that said boyfriend had mentioned something about a girl named Paige being pretty, she was so-and-so’s friend and I didn’t really get to meet her — but I didn’t think twice about it. I’m not ashamed of what I’m about to say because EVERYONE DOES THIS so I’m not beating myself up about it (anymore at least). I went through his phone… while he was in the shower. Sue me!!!!!!  I wasn’t suspicious (at the time) — just curious — and I remember not only finding a convo where one of his friends was talking sh*t about my uncle (super!!!!) but I also found a text between himself and a friend — about Paige.

Mind you, I had wanted to name my first born daughter Paige, but God knows that’s all out the window. Basically they were both fighting over this chick that they both met once because, apparently, she was SOOOO HOT that her blinding hotness meant more than their girlfriends they had been dating for who-knows-h0w-long at this point. So they were fighting over who had “dibs” on her. It was one of those moments that I vowed I’d never go through a boyfriend’s phone again. And trust me — I never will. And yeah, I ‘fessed up and confronted him. Womp womp.

Point being? I had an intuition that something wasn’t right, and I was correct.

So here’s where I begin the real honesty time. I don’t even know where to go with this because a) I had no commitment from this person but b) I would venture to say we were somewhat dating? I really have no idea. Everything is so dicey in LA when it comes to who you’re a dating and all of that crap. He was paying for dinner and at the end of the day, that’s a date, regardless of if you want it to be not — SO I’VE BEEN TOLD, given in college I went out with someone I thought was a friend, but he paid for everything, so all of my friends in turn told me that I officially went on a date. Super. Moral of that story: pay for your own crap unless you really like the guy.

Anyway, I had been “dating” this guy casually for a few weeks and we were having a great time. Or so I thought. WHO KNOWS, he could have found me mildly annoying but attractive enough to deal with, or he could have been smitten. I really have NO IDEA. What I do know is that he was helpful, fun, we had a great time together (or did we? Again, I’m pretty much lost at this point), and I liked being around him. We hung out a handful of times — maybe two handfuls; he pursued me, which I enjoyed, because as most of you know, I am the arranger/Mother Hen/person who tends to organize everyone, so any time a person goes after me, it’s attractive. Then I peaced out for the holidays.

Which is when things got kind of weird. No… they straight up just got BIZARRE. I don’t even want to talk about this because while I’m disappointed with how the whole thing turned out, I have no sour feelings about this person. I like him. He’s ‘good people.’ I would hang out with him on a regular, friendly basis, which is a rarity because, well, I’m selective in who I associate with. But I’m also a person who whole-heartedly believes things happen in my life so I can share them on my blog. Kind of bizarre logic, but work with me here. By me sharing my experiences, you can either a) squirm in humiliation for for me or b) get a good laugh. Either/or. So the point of this whole paragraph is to reference that I’m not writing to mock or ridicule this person.

This guy is someone I “knew” for awhile. I use that term loosely, because we never hung out. But we knew of each other. I was intrigued with the fact that he had a good job and seemingly had his shit together, because, as this blog depicts to a T — most men in LA are a little “touched” — as my grandma liked to call it. (In other words, they have a lot of problems.)

He made reservations for dinner. Do you understand what that feels like? It’s sexy. It’s like “Look, I’m taking the initiative to make sure that when we get to the restaurant, you don’t have to stand in your heels for 30 minutes while we wait for a table.” I dig that. And when you don’t have reservations made for you, ever, it’s HUGE — am I right, ladies? I’m so right. Clearly, I am easily amused.

So a myriad of other things attracted me to him but mostly it was just a fun fling. Nothing serious, no commitment — just good times and no worries. I like that because I’m not trying to settle down anytime soon and I just started a new job, which my entire life revolves around at this point.

LONG STORY SHORT: I went home for the holidays and felt, gut instinct-wise, that something was up. I hadn’t heard from him in a few days, which was weird because we were communicating almost every day, and I felt kind of let down, but wasn’t too concerned.

Until I got on Twitter.

I need to preface this whole thing with the fact that my friend Taryn calls me “Nancy Drew” because of my superb investigation skills. Trust, I have broken into emails before. That might be highly illegal and nothing to boast about, but I should probably start prepping myself for a future in private investigation. Twitter and Facebook? IT’S NOTHING. No sweat. Tell me what you want to find out, I’ll get it for you. Who is your ex-boyfriend dating? Well, I’m not friends with him, but I will tell you her name, send you a photo and identify at least two friends and hobbies of hers. (If you are my friend, I will also tell you that you are waaaaay prettier and she is a ho because that’s just how good of a friend I am.)

For the love, this is so long. GET TO THE POINT ALREADY! So anyway, I was at home, bored, and I crawled in bed with my iPad on got on Twitter. I decided to look at his page. I feel like a Twitter page tells so much about a person. Their writing voice, their grammar, how many followers they have, who follows them — all interesting to me. It tells a little story.

So do their tweets.

Pretty much, I found a tweet of his (easy because he didn’t have many), directed at someone else, that intrigued me enough to click on that person’s name, which took me to their public profile. It was a girl. She looked familiar. It was his ex-girlfriend. And on her page, I discovered that she had flown to where he was for Christmas and was either a) in the area and they were hanging out (which helps me to understand why he was MIA) or b) spending the holiday with him.

I remember seeing it and being like, “What the f*ck?” (Dirty mouth. Sorry.) And then getting a little sad. Like, well, that sucks. I mean… I don’t know. He didn’t owe me anything, he could have had this planned for forever; I wouldn’t have told somebody new that I was seeing that I was going to be hanging out with my ex during the “most wonderful time of the year” either. So I was stuck in somewhat of a rut.

While I wanted no commitment, I also didn’t want to be on his “ho train” of women. I exaggerate that but really, if you’re dating other people, totally fine, just let me know. I don’t want to be one of 17…. or even one of three or four. That’s too much like The Bachelor for me and it grosses me out, espesh as a germaphobe. Furthermore, it’s a Case of The Ex. That’s always a losing battle — if someone isn’t over their ex, the ex will always win… or they’ll shack together. Either/or.

Anyway, things obviously fizzled. I saw him one time when I got back and had fun, but at the end of the day, I felt weird bringing up The Ex Factor because, well, that’s weird, and I kind of knew in the back of my mind that if he didn’t bring it up himself, that something, most definitely, was going or went on between them. I’ve all but confirmed that things are a cookin’ between them now, and he has since fallen off the planet in Kirbie’s Dream World.

But really, who am I to interfere in a rekindling of any sort? Wishing him the best, regardless.

#WompWompWOOOOMP

Outside of my dating life being nonexistent now, and spilling to you guys the trials and tribulations of finding a decent guy to take me to dinner, learn this: Go with the gut instincts people. Your intuition is the greatest power you possess.