he who shall not be named

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Dude. I’ve inadvertently discovered the match made in hell, Lord Voldemort & Witchy Poo. A love for the ages. 

It’s so easy to just put something out of your mind, right? Yeah, not really. And someone? Good luck with that one.

He who shall not be named is supposed to be banished from my writing. Oy.

I can’t stop thinking about him.

Fuck.

And, hilariously I’m making a date with some guy that I’ve matched and unmatched, written back and forth and blown off/been blown off by, probably for being way too blunt and possibly a bit jaded on my end, can’t remember what he did that annoyed me. But as we’ve already established, Portland is way too small. So I’ll meet and see. Of course there’s already the full disclosure “I’m not sure if I’m looking for anything” bullshit. As if there’s a man in Portland who is actually looking for a relationship. Actual relationships  appear to be the new AIDS. Avoid at all costs. Unless you want a “relationship” with one of the numerous polyamorous married men of Portland. Oy.

And I’m also still hoping to see the guy from the great date again. Who fucking knows? He’s brilliant though. Adorable. 50 & sexy as fuck. Not a hint of dad bod. Humourous.

I’m glad that I’m finding men my age that are attractive to me. Online I’m finding a lot of men from 5 years younger to 5 years older who look like shit. Not aging well. At all. Yikes. It’s pretty appalling. I mean, I don’t look 25. But I look good. For My Age. Most back-handed compliment ever, but after 35 that’s what women get.

I’m actually finding that men with some grey hair, with glasses, with adult looking faces and apparent years of wear, are extremely sexy to me. I don’t really want to fuck 25 year olds. I mean, maybe, but what would we talk about? Those dudes were born in 1993!

Give me a man born in the late 60’s – early to mid 70’s. They remember the good ol’ days. They watched HR Puff n Stuff. Harrowing shit.

I’ll try to just continue on with not thinking about he who shall not be named. I’ll try to stop missing him. But fuck. Short of finding my Scandinavian Soul Mate I can’t imagine that anything will make this longing cease. Ever.

I will refrain from watching “Sherlock” anytime soon though. I’m not a total masochist.

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