Pieces of Me

The last time I tried to do it, it didn't work because I didn't know my password, but when I tried again today a password wasn't necessary, so it's finally been done: I deleted my Bumble account.

I deleted it for a few reasons. First, it was totally addictive and a huge waste of time. Whenever I was bored or lying in bed, I'd open up the app and peruse guys. The amount of time I wasted on it--not that I'd be doing anything else productive, don't get me wrong--is horrific. Second, for the most part, the type of guys on Bumble really aren't my type. Sure, BTJ is totally my type, but the majority of guys on there are either super professional looking or appear to be super douche. There isn't a whole lot of in between. Not a whole lot of in between, of course, does mean there's some in between which brings me to number three. Pretty much anytime I find a guy that interests me, we match. My match rate, I'd say, is a little upward of 90%. From those guys I match with, some I never talk to because upon closer inspection, I'm like, why? Some I talk to a tiny bit, and one of us never ends up talking to the other person again, some I talk to for what seems like forever--this guy, K, who I went out with two weeks ago and I had talked for probably about six months before meeting--and talk is all we ever do. And fourth, which is the real reason I got off of Bumble, is I need a break from boys. 

So despite numbers one through three from above, I've still been on a fair amount of Bumble dates, which equals going out with a fair amount of boys. Throw A in there even though we didn't meet on Bumble, and that's even more boys. A somehow opened up some kind of gate, and since our first date on March 30, off the top of my head, I know that I've gone out with him, BS, C  (not THAT C. You know what? For clarification, let's call C, G), Nick Who Lives in a Van, K, BTJ, kind of Bumble Gym Guy even though I wouldn't call us meeting at Starbucks the other night a date even though he did, and possibly BD although I never could tell his intentions. Those are the guys I've physically gone out with--let's see, that's what? Eight, possibly nine, depending on BD? Eight, possibly nine guys, four of them from Bumble, five of them not, in just over two months, and that doesn't include the guys I talk to or text. It's been kind of a whirlwind.

(And not that there's anything wrong with being a slut--I mean, I won't even pretend--I do feel the need to mention that A is the only one of out all those guys I slept with. The other ones--well, most of the other ones, not all--I just kissed. Wait. Maybe that seems like I did more stuff with the other ones other than kiss, which totally wasn't the intent. Let me try this again. While I did kiss some of those guys because how am I supposed to know if I like someone if I don't kiss him? Plus, making out is my favorite extracurricular thing to do, I didn't kiss them all. Okay. I think I've said way more than enough).

It's especially been a whirlwind since I'm not used to this. The last guy I dated was BS in July, and it was after our thing ended that I decided to take a step back from boys because I was so utterly depressed. When A and I met in March it wasn't because I went looking for someone. He came to me. And even though I was tired of him and his babyish, busy-all-the-time ways and tried breaking up with him twice before things stopped in the middle of May, when we really did stop, I was still really sad. Like really sad. Like mopey. Like wanting to text him. Like wanting to call. And somewhere in that time--not all since the middle of May. I was dating other people when A and I were dating, and yes, he knew. You can't never (double negative intentional) have time for me and expect me to just be like, fine, dear--I dated all these other guys, but since A and I ended, I went out with Nick Who Lives in a Van, K, BTJ, and kind of Bumble Gym Guy, but out of all of those post-A guys I've dated and been talking to, I've only actually liked one, and if you haven't been keeping track over the past few posts, it's BTJ, the guy who I sent his own texts, the guy who since it's the beginning, every single second of every day I don't know if it really is the beginning or if it's the end, and I hate this, like I absolutely, positively hate this not knowing part, but I'm supposed to be laidback and not jump-the-gun-Kel, so I'm--

well, I'm writing an entire post about it and deleted my Bumble account because I'm obviously insane. 

This is the thing. Keifer told me today that I get attached to guys too fast, and while that's definitely not the case because I don't feel like I ever feel comfortable enough to get attached, if I'm going to fall, I admittedly fall pretty fast. It takes a lot for it to happen, and by a lot, I mean a lot of random things coming together to create the perfect situation that blinds me to whatever it is I find wrong with almost every single guy I ever meet, but when it does--

you know a horcrux? (Shame on you if you don't. Shame. On. You.) Boys I like are my horcruxes, and that, people who read my blog, is why I had to delete my Bumble account. Enough horcruxes and we all know what happens.