Have I Lost My Humor or is it Just a Heartache?

I woke up today reminding myself my audience deserved some good laughs today about getting dumped last weekend.

Instead, I found myself missing things about him, despite his anger mismanagement issues and being a reprehensible douche and dumping me.

I miss his sweet texts.  He had a way of saying something kind to me every day, a kind of sweetness I've not seen in a man since college.  Imagine how good that feels.  .  .

I miss his generousity.  He made you feel special by getting up and getting you things, whether it'd be a pop or whatnot.  He wasn't a typical cheapskate.  He was gainfully employed and not milking the system on a fake "Oh, my back!" disability or unemployment like so many do.

I miss our muses together.  He liked to ask big philosophical questions and mull over them for a long time.  If I felt like it, he'd let me ramble on about something without interrupting and would listen with interest.

A man who listens, yes I actually said that!

Sigh.  But he threw that all away because I wouldn't sleep with him after a tiny handful of dates.  Like it was high school or something.  I thought we were on the same page.  I THOUGHT we were taking it slow.

Wouldn't you think that at 53, a guy would have things figured out a little bit better than that? 

Wouldn't you think that at 53, it would be OK to have an adult talk about sex, or about the big "M" without acting like a baby? 

Having sex too soon is not a mature way to start a relationship.  Don't we usually learn that before we're even out of our 20's?  How can a man who's so deep that he asks the million dollar questions about our mudane existence on the planet turn around and be such a goddamned emotional-midget moron?  Maybe his nickname shall be "Hole."  As in, there's a hole inside of him nothing can fill.

Bette Davis once said, "Sex is God's joke."  She was asked by Dick Cavett on his show what she meant by that.  Her reply was that it clouds a person's judgement, and once that glory of sex is over and you see the person for the HUGE DOUCHE that they are, then you are embarrassed and amazed and overwhelmed that you slept with them and thought they were cool.  Hence, God is upstairs laughing, because the universe doesn't want you to "hook up" with someone who's so hot you can't stand it.  When I asked Gary if his ex (who he is so clearly NOT OVER, hello anger-management issues) was "hot" hence a retarded reason to marry someone, he just glared at me, which means "Yes.  I am an idiot, stop rubbing it in." 

The universe wants you to dig deeper than that, and put sex on the back burner and try to act a little more intelligent than an knuckle-dragging ape, which I guess that is what he really was.

Sigh.