Soap Opera Sunday, Episode 10

I'm so excited that SOS is back on. You can read the other soapy stories at founder Brillig's blog (also check out other founder Kate's blog). There are lots of great stories and most of them are not LONG sagas like mine. To catch up quickly, go here:

Episode 9

To learn everything possible about the poor woman's Bridget Jones. . er. .me, go these places:

Episode 1
Episode 2
Episode 3
Episode 4
Episode 5
Episode 6
Episode 7
Episode 8

By the time Martin came over, I was done crying. But I couldn't even have explained if I was crying over the break up or my own stupidity. Martin listened patiently while I ranted and raved about MG's perfidy (how could he keep changing his mind like that? HOW?) and my own stupidity (I knew better, didn't I). He rubbed my back. He gave me a hug. I started to wonder.. . . .

I mean, things were so easy with Martin. I was so calm and comfortable around him.

And he was awfully sweet for an ex-boyfriend.

I felt so safe when he hugged me.

But I didn't feel anything else.

Martin left soon after and I never saw him again. We still talked on the phone, but that was it.

Foster had disappeared into a relationship with a crazy nurse. He would resurface and ask me out while I was pregnant with Ironflower.

MG and I dated and broke up two more times. The only way I can explain it is to say that we kept falling in love with each other, but we never learned to love each other - or even be good friends. I was the one who finally broke it off for good. We're actually MySpace friends now.

After the final MG break up, I half-heartedly tried speed dating. I met a few decent guys while out and about. I seriously contemplated dating P., an attractive guy I knew with the personality of a wet noodle. We had mutual friends, all of whom were married. By dating P., my life would be easy and predictable. . . .

And then I looked at myself in the mirror and thought, "What the FUCK are you thinking?"

I didn't even like P. Was I so desperate that I would date anybody? The idea made me nauseous. I decided to take a few months off from the dating world. It had gone from a fun post-divorce activity to a search for a relationship and I didn't want to be so attached to having a relationship that I would contemplate guys like P.

I began spending a lot more time at my friend Kathy Griffin's house. (Not the real Kathy Griffin. But a friend of mine who pretty much stole her personality from KG and was the queen of the local gay prom, if you know what I mean). There was always a party filled with hot, young gay boys, funny gay men, sweet lesbians and bitterly funny breeders. I fit right in.

You could say that the Kansas City gay scene became my new boyfriend. I got compliments and massages and hugs and companionship. I got to go dancing and to the theater. The first flaw in the relationship came on New Year's Eve, when my midnight kissing options included an angry and recently dumped drag queen, a straight girlfriend or an eccentric alcoholic who already had an erection. I kissed my straight friend, which was just like kissing anyone else you're not remotely attracted to.

The second flaw came when they talked me into doing community theater.