Life

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What is wrong with people?

Published February 28, 2016 by The Blanquita

I have found myself asking this question too many times. For some reason, society seems less concerned with other people and more concerned in their own fulfillment. I would like to post a disclaimer and tell you that there is hope. You don’t have to end up in these situations, but pay attention. It could happen to anyone if you’re not careful. Put yourself first and follow your instincts.

Read the following TRUE  anecdotes and try to figure out if you can see what’s coming. If you can, you might be smarter than I was!

The cheat:

He picked me up in his oversized pickup for our first date. We had been talking for a few weeks and it felt like we were really hitting it off. He was a stocky firefighter who had a shy, sweet demeanor. He wasn’t going to be featured in a calendar anytime soon, but he was right up my alley–masculine with a touch of romantic.

We ate at a restaurant on the beach with a pier that jutted out from the back deck. As with most south Florida dining establishments, the wait was going to be significant so we decided to take a walk on the pier and talk. With the ocean and moon as a romantic backdrop, he pulled me in for a passionate kiss.

I always tried not to have any expectations on dates but I couldn’t help but get excited. This date was going perfectly! Conversation at dinner was going amazing as well. We talked about sports, life and work, and the words were flowing steadily.

Having learned my lesson from previous dates, I knew not to get my hopes up but this was great! I had finally met someone with whom my mental and physical attraction matched. As far as first dates go, we were doing pretty well.

Before going home, we shared another kiss and talked more. He even called me on his way home to tell me what a great time he had.

The next day, the good vibes were still flowing. We had been texting back and forth and my hopes were raising. He sent me a text saying that he was so excited to have met someone he really hit it off with. All excitement aside, a warning was going off in the back of my head. There’s something wrong, do your research.

And so, I did. And to my dismay what I found was even worse than I expected. Armed with his first and last name, I found his Facebook. Complete with pictures of his wife- and unborn child. Yes. You read that right. Not only was this piece of excrement married, he was cheating on his pregnant wife!

I was beyond furious. I managed to contain my emotions and simply sent a text saying “is there anything you would like to tell me?” He said no and acted curious. I then told him I knew everything. He attempted to make excuses but I was not about to have any of it. I took a screenshot of all our conversations and sent it to his wife. And then I essentially told him to f*** off.

The liar:

I started talking to A before I moved back to Miami. He was a sexy, recently divorced cop whom I had really hit it off with. Typically I would not waste my time on someone who was so fresh out of a relationship, but he practically begged that I give him a fair shot.

Soon after we began speaking, that familiar (but annoying) alarm started going off. I did the necessary research and discovered that this man was still married. When I confronted him, he admitted he was separated but was in the middle of a divorce. I told him that I thought we should postpone any relationship until it was official. He agreed and we ceased communication.

Fast forward a few months later, I started working in the area he patrolled. One night, he pulled up next to me with his blue lights on smiling and laughing. I sent a text and then the sparks started flying.

We started meeting up frequently. Spending one night talking in his car until almost sunrise. In between, we talked and used Skype constantly. The chemistry was strong… and then it wasn’t.

Scarface.jpg
(Scarface 1983)

Suddenly, his demeanor changed, and when I confronted him, he finally admitted that he did not want to pursue a relationship. That’s all fine, except he had been telling me for months that he did want one-with me. He just needed time.

After all of the time I had invested, he told me he didn’t want a relationship at all. He needed time to recover from his divorce, which was now official.

For the record, a few months later, he was in a relationship with someone else.

The question:

Why? Why lead someone on with false hope? Why act like you want someone when you have no intentions of a future? Why intentionally disappoint another person? What is wrong with people? I may never know the answer to this.

Stay tuned:

In my next post, I will give advice on how you can avoid scenarios like these. You do not have to feel like you’re in a soap opera!

Until then, keep on truckin’!

 

 

 

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Magic.

Published July 13, 2014 by The Blanquita

He stepped out of his red BMW and without hesitation we were intertwined. His mouth pressed against mine, my body leaning into his and vice versa. My high heels stood in between his designer, leather loafers. The heat between us was palpable.

I was twenty and this was my first real, adult relationship. And in retrospect, that was a clear sign that I had a whole lot to learn. The relationship smelled like whiskey, looked like sex and in reality was pure trouble.

That evening he picked up the check for me and another couple I had invited along. To be honest, he wasn’t all that much to look at. He was a wiry and slightly scarred, walking coloring book for the disturbed. He had thick Indio hair,  a slightly over-sized nose and a thin, wide-set mouth that was either part of a frown or a smirk. Or both. He was the only person I knew who could pull off both. Not much upon first glance. But there was an innate air of sex that he omitted. I still can’t put my finger on it.

Maybe it was the way he spoiled me. Something that any 20-year-old girl could be tempted by. He would wait patiently in brightly lit stores among the other bored boyfriends. Except, he was eager and sweet. Offering to pay for anything I liked. Designer sunglasses, perfume, dresses and dinners at fancy restaurants were all part of the package. I had never been materialistic, but a girl would have to be cuckoo not to appreciate such a generous demeanor.

He was a two-time Iraq War Veteran at twenty four and being the loyal patriot I was, I was impressed. Despite his small and scarred frame, etched with disturbing tattoos, he had an overwhelming sense of masculinity. He had a rather confusing mix of American mixed with Colombian, masculine mixed with stylish, sweet mixed with sour, that all added up to endearing in my eyes.

Perhaps the country bumpkin in me was impressed by such things. Perhaps the inner little girl thought she had met her rough around the edges Prince Charming. Who knows, but whatever the reason I was hooked.

I have managed to go 25 years without any drugs except for J.

It didn’t take long for the honeymoon phase to be over. The excessive lifestyle that we lead together also included over-the-top drinking and fighting. There was rarely a rendezvous that didn’t include us yelling about something petty. One of those topics was a hunch that he was being flirtatious with one of his best friends’ girlfriends. A tall, skinny, woman with a big nose and no lips. Nothing like the curvy Latinas one would normally find in Miami. She was saved under her name and “My Love” in his phone.

Although the argument had ended and I had met her and attempted to form a friendship, I would later learn that they were hooking up shortly after our breakup. There goes that Miami mentality for you. A friend one minute, sleeping with your ex the next.

It’s amazing what you’ll overlook when you haven’t yet learned your value as a woman and haven’t stepped into your own. I was still a confused college student who had seen little of the world or the people in it. I wanted to believe in “The One” and all that entailed. But eventually the relationship ended and we went our separate ways. I later found out he cheated with at least one other woman, although I suspect there were more.

It didn’t matter. Where one love had ended another started up. I was hooked on Miami and the magic that filled the city. The lights, the music, the people, the chaos. Everything had me so enthralled, I would spend the next several years trying to get back.

I think back onto my relationship with J and what that started. Maybe I was always meant to meet him. If not for him would I have ever traveled to Miami? I can remember walking down the street on South Beach for the first time and feeling the electricity flow through me. The balmy air teeming with sexual energy. The big leafy palms and the distant beat of drums and horns from the salsa music. Always the salsa music.

It was clear I had formed a bond with the city that wouldn’t end with that relationship. And sure enough, it didn’t.