She’s got beautiful eyes Part One

People all the time ask me what type of girl I go for. Dan what IS your type?

Well I don’t have a physical type. Yeah I switch back and forth from preferring redheads to blondes to brunettes.

There are moments where I am attracted to skinnier women. Sometimes even a few extra pounds, if you pack it well, is not a put off. The curves can be quite appealing. Sometimes I love the fit muscular look on women, as long as it is not over pronounced and manly looking.

Eeek!!!!

And I have been with some very beautiful women. But I am the master of pinpointing some minut flaw and making it a glaring defect in my mind.

My type you ask? Broken. Broken, with a beautiful soul and a beautiful heart. Completely emotionally unavailable. And I see the Brokenness when I look into your eyes. I see the distrust when you look at me. And let me tell you crazy usually accompanies that.

You might wonder how I can see Brokenness when I look into your eyes. I see myself. You want me to go batshit crazy for you? Withdraw. And guess what happens if you reciprocate my affections. I, in turn, withdraw.

When I get too much time by myself I become very introspective. Which is a good thing because I have learned a lot about me. I also tend to write more when my soul is crushed. I don’t really desire to be in a happy healthy relationship. It’s not my type of challenge. It appears I will spend the rest of my life in the eternal cat-and-mouse game, if you will.

The ones who truly love me and pursue me, I brand them as a stalker, crazy, there must be something wrong with this person. I create the illusion that they’re insane. And has that ever served me well. Here I sit amidst another broken heart and shattered dreams, and wondering what is wrong with me…. And feeling as if I have an entire book within me.

And through a little soul-searching I think the reason for this is two-part

Learning young that women leave

At the age of 17 my house got split in two. My mom cut me out of her life for the next 15 years. I know that had a profound effect on me. Yet at the end of the 15 years, when she pursued a relationship with me, I no longer desired it. And I walked away… I think me not wanting a relationship with her after all that time as part of the self-preservation mechanism.

My mother, when I was a child, was a role model Mom. Very tender and affectionate. Both parents needed to work to sustain the household. But she always insured she was able to work from home. Over the years that began to change. The oldest of five, I’m sure by the fifth one she began to get tired. That coupled with consistent problems with her and my father’s relationship she went into depression. She was also deeply spiritual, she saught God in many different ways. She got involved in a very bizarre cult that eventually ripped my family in two. Her gradual exit started when I was about sixth grade. Not so ironically the summer between 6th and 7th grade, I had my first real heavy crush.

Cindy had moved in directly next door. She was stacked!!!

And it was not long till she and I were officially dating. My first-ever girlfriend, first ever French kiss over the chain link fence that divided our two yards, first under the shirt and under the bra feel. We were always holding hands hugging. They had an above ground pool and we soaked in the pool holding each other. There were nights of slow dancing in the basement. Listening to albums from the 50s and 60s. And the endless making out. I need to thank her someday for teaching me how to kiss. And it seemed like that relationship had gone on forever, when in fact, it was only 3 months long. In all that I also experienced jealousy for the first time. And at the end of that summer my first-ever real heartbreak. I was crushed.

Entering in the 7th grade, I would see her standing around her friends giving me the occasional eye.

I was going to show her. And all the while make a name for myself. So I sought out the bad kids. Picked up smoking. Even started smoking weed that year.

Yeah I showed her all right. Seventh grade was a huge transition from grade school. I was an outcast in grade school and became a stoner in Junior High. Making a new name for myself creating a new person. I gave up baseball and never persued sports after that.

Mom’s activities with a crazy cult began to infiltrate the household. Mom and Dad’s fights got more and more severe. As well as dad’s drinking. My home life was an embarrassment to me. So I began to create a life outside of home and as far away from home as possible. Only the people in my neighborhood and one close friend knew of the asinine shit that happened at our house.

I made sure I always had a job of some sort or some sort of social activity to keep me out of the house. I would become head over heels with girl after girl only to become sick of them after the third week. That pattern stayed with me all the way into high school until Corey Allred.

Corey was my first real cat and mouse game that I was fully engaged in. She was my second real love. One that I never really got over. That ultimately ended in heartache as she eventually chose Mike Heinzman the local drug dealer, over me. He was pretty badass. But he had a hair lip that drove me nuts. But you didn’t fuck with him either. And he had a badass mullet to go with his 69 Nova jacked up on 50s. I didn’t see Corey at all After High School until around 97. We ran into each other at a bar and flirted all night. Hung out a few times after that and then she had to moved back to Washington State. I had her email and phone number. And she dropped off the Earth shortly after that. She got married and had a couple of kids. She died in a car accident a few years later. That’s why she disappeared on me. I didn’t find out until about 8 years after she died. And I was crushed.

Brenda I met my senior year. I had finished my first rehab stint I met her and her best friend at an Alcoholics Anonymous dance. She was cute as fuck. She had a smile that won me over immediately.

She was already graduated from high school a year ahead of me. She was my first fuck as well. The subject of marriage came up after our second month of dating and her getting pregnant. We were officially engaged. She miscarried. And was pretty choked up about it. She took a new job and started disappearing from my life. Turns out she started dating her boss David. A short, fat, balding beady-eyed maggot of a man who owned a traveling telemarketing business. She ended up running away with him, and after doing a lot of acid she changed her name to Ashley. I think it’s safe to say I dodged a bullet on that one.

I finished high school with a revolving door dating lifestyle. In that time my parents had gotten divorced and things got pretty fucking crazy. I was now living with my dad and my younger brother and sister. My dad was an over-the-road truck driver so that revolving door started swinging pretty fast.

Enter Barb .

She moved to Billings Montana from Chicago to live with her brother, who also owned the local porn shop in town. To say she was wild was a bit of an understatement. Hers was the first shaved pussy I’ve ever seen in my life. And I was enthralled. But after 3 or 4 weeks of banging like bunnies, my interest waned. But Lord was she fun. I had Bon Jovi style hair down to my ass. And attention from all sorts of different women. She was by far the hottest. But the game got old. Soon after graduation I moved in my own place. I was dating three women simultaneously until I got caught.

I wish I still had that energy.

I started dating Jennifer exclusively. She was incredibly sweet and extremely sexy.

I would say she is a white buffalo. The One That Got Away. Or I pushed her away. Again with the traps of boredom in dating. I was fickle and fucked up. She had pretty bad issues at home. So she would come to my place frequently cook dinner, clean house, she was amazing. Being a dumbass Punk of a kid, I just simply stopped answering her phone calls.

Then came Laura B. She will only called by that because I don’t want to spread nasty gossip about her. I met her at work, I was really interested in her. She was still a senior in Catholic High School. She seemed innocent and very very sweet. We weren’t going to have sex because we wanted to make a relationship work with us. Her parents were high-end realtors in Montana, and did not like me…. long-haired filthy Punk with a 1970 Chevelle jacked up and loud as hell. When I would pick her up at her house for a date, her mom would only crack the door and say Laura will be down shortly. We did it for a little over a month and I came into work one day her best friend said, “Dan, I got to tell you something. We got drunk last night at the Billings Mustangs baseball game, we went out with the team afterwards for a party. Laura slept with the team, I shit you not 7 guys off the baseball team.”

Fuck me….

Marianne Westermark would be the last girl I dated seriously prior to getting married. We have been dating for 3 months when I decided to make the move to Washington State. She wanted to finish up High School and then meet me there. She never finished high school, she wound up swallowing a bottle of pills and drinking a bottle of wine a month after I had moved. I had talked to her that day on our weekly call. Long-distance was expensive back then and that’s what we had set up. She didn’t say anything about being depressed or sad or angry or anything. No suicide note no nothing. She was found in her basement not breathing covered in her own vomit. Some people say it was an argument with her parents that caused it but nobody really knows. It fucked my head for a long time. I carried her obituary around in my pocket for 4 years. I got a phone call from her best friend a week after it happened.

To be continued…..

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