On a much much happier note, my dating life has begun to thrive.

Married Man and I have seen each other once more, and we have an upcoming third date (an overnight!) planned. In some ways, he baffles me. Never have I experienced a cis man so tender, romantic, and attentive. Granted, my experience in this department is relatively small, but even hearing stories from the trenches of my friends' dating lives leads me to believe this one is an anomaly.

My theory is that his being married and ultimately unavailable means that he is able to be quite straightforward with his interest and affections. Since our romantic encounters will never be more than what they are, what does he have to lose by telling me exactly how much he enjoys me?

I have also begun preliminary conversations with a brand new lust interest. We'll call him Mr. Dapper, because he is. MD and I found each other through a dating site, and were both surprised and delighted to see that we share quite a few interests, sexual and non. We are both writers, and have been enjoying seducing each other with words over email in the lead up to a date that will happen soon.

I am not going to say too much more for fear of hoping for too much before we find out whether or not Good On Paper translates into a more tactile connection, but I am optimistic. And fucking horny as shit.

It's so funny

How quickly a rejected man's lust can turn to rage.

"picky fat bitch. u gotta be kiddin me."

A response to my non-response to his less-than-appealing pictures accompanied by "love what i read" and an invitation to meet him for drinks and sex later this week.

I am on the receiving end of this kind of entitled rage with regularity. A fat girl like me, their reasoning seems to indicate, should be flattered that they could even entertain the idea of pity fucking me. Or, what I think is really going on - they are embarrassed of their big girl desires and their fragile egos can't handle being rejected by girls who they think no one else would want anyway.

An ignored catcall leads to an order to smile. A refusal to give my number to a strange man on the street is suddenly an indication that I am a nasty bitch. A scowl at his leer leads to a litany of insults and accusations. A non-response to a proposition suddenly renders my formerly sexy fat body ugly. Funny how it can all turn on a dime.

Unrequited lust and frustrated rage; two sides on the same coin of misogyny.