Hello!
Oh my beautiful friend, I hope your thanksgiving week was filled with mashed potatoes, friends, family, and most importantly, delicious mashed potatoes topped with home made warm soothing gravy.
Mine?
I arrived at Heidi’s, my production assistant, new apartment with two suitcases stuffed with two 16 piece family size KFC combos: we’re talking extra crispy wings, thighs, legs, alongside two giant tubs of coleslaw and mashed potatoes WITH gravy.
Heidi: clothes?
Me: watch?
I unzip the luggages.
Heidi: You didn’t.
Me: Yes
This is what happens when I work with people. If you’re going to tell me that you have no food, you’re struggling, you just moved to a new place with no furniture…
Basically, if you’re talented and you work for me, I’m going to do everything I can to make sure you feel secured. I believe you’re a more efficient worker if you’re not stressing out about the little basic necessities. Heidi is deserving.
I didn’t have time to cook.
I was invited just 2.5 hours prior.
Packing KFC into two small luggages was my only option.
The party begins and the introductions are going well. We’re shaking hands, there are laughs, people giving each other hugs… when suddenly Heidi’s other manager walks in through the door… and my mind gasps. Why?
Because she’s arrived:
Green pearl earrings flashing from side to side.
Silver necklace.
Nails crisp to perfection.
Ponytail Bob Weave bouncing with enough edge to make me go “Oooh”
Her black crop dress and jacket fits nicely on her body…
Did I mention she has a walk that ruminates swag?
It’s there.
Latina(x)
Skin smooth as butter
Lastly, did I mention her smile? Just… melts my knees.
Her aura reads that the guys who usually go after her are oftentimes the 6ft 2’ jocks with big muscles, investment bankers, the influencers with the swag, and of course the shy needy boys who she has to reject often.
She has a job… you know put together.
She’s gorgeous.
She knows she’s beautiful… but there is a hint of “humbleness behind those eyes”
She knows her worth, but she’s nice about it…
Life is short and I can’t help myself.
And I pray that she’s cool - I walk up to her -
Me: It’s been a long time, we’ve finally meet again
Her (playfully): Oh. Uh. Ha. I’m so happy we FiNally get to meet again
Me: Three years right? Pensacola Florida? I was babysitting little kid hector and you saved his life.
Her: Yes, very much so. You needed help, it’s the best I could do -
Me: Love the outfit by the way, you look, on a scale of 1 -10… gooOd.
Her: hahaha (she then looks at Heidi) who is this guy?
Heidi: Oh, what? You don’t know each other?
Me: Hi, what’s your name?
Her: It’s E***** and yours?
Me: It’s Jonathan, pleasure to meet you.
I take out my hand, she holds it, and go in for the hand kiss… then flip it and kiss my own hand. It’s a move. I know, it’s a move. It’s something that works often.
Her: hahaha aren’t you supposed to kiss mine?
Me: not yet. hahaha
We vibe the entire night. I bounce around the room, she is of course hit on by a few other guys at the party. You know the ones with big muscles and large bank accounts. But there conversations are really boring. They’re dry. I think. It’s my ego talking.
Because she lights up when I return, her feet point in my direction, she is down to open up when I’m near… I’m making her talk about things beyond “where do you like to party” or “where do you work”
She’s funny as fuck.
I laugh at her jokes. “oh that’s actually good”
We banter.
She’s laughing at mine…
I even get her number in the middle of the party.
It’s on.
It’s. On.
Throughout the night, I remind Heidi that we have to film later that night, and because I’ve been up since 4am, I’ll need to take a quick nap at around 9:15pm in her bed.
Me: Just wake me up when people leave so we can start filming.
Heidi: Okay.
Three hours in and the party is still going on strong. But, it’s now 9:10pm so I only have one option. I walk up to E, take her hand, and tell her:
Me: It was a pleasure, I’m headed out.
She does one of those cute pouting faces, “aww, you’re going? well it’s nice meeting you Jonathan.” I take her hand and I kiss the back of my own hand again. She laughs, “you have to kiss mine”…
Me: Oops I forgot hahaha. Next time -
And then I go straight to Heidi’s bedroom to sleep.
Heidi’s pillow feels great.
It’s cozy with a picture of the musician Harry Styles.
Heidi loves Harry Styles.
I’m falling into a dream when - the door opens.
It’s probably 9:50pm?
It’s E and another friend of hers, you know the friend who watches over everyone, “the protector” - making sure “no one in the friend group makes a bad decision”.
E’s Friend: Oh sorry, we’re looking for Heidi’s bathroom.
E: Oh, you’re still here Jonathan?
Jonathan: I’m trying to nap, oh hi. But you can stay for awhile.
E gives a look to her friend…
E’s Friend: You’re okay here?
E: Yes, I’m good.
The door closes and now it’s just me and E.
Oh my god.
You know what? I easily convince myself that I can stay up for this.
Filming can wait.
I’m thinking of all the possibilities in my head to figure out how I can have fun, be respectful, and still get my work deadlines finished all at the same time. How do I savor this moment, while simultaneously multi-tasking so I can still get paid.
E lays next to me and says a few things. But it doesn’t matter what she’s saying, it’s all minutia, because the energy reads, “boy you better fucking make a move”.
My heart is pounding vigorously. I’m excited. I’m nervous. I filled with a tiny bit of anxiety. But, I’m happy and I’m trying to the best of my ability to play it cool.
God, I’m smiling.
This beautiful-hilarious girl is vibing with the vibes.
It’s not forced. It’s just is…
It feels good. She feels good.
This all feels natural.
I can’t wait to lock in -
Then.
I take her hand and I’m about to say this: “you know on a scale of 1-10… you. are. fInE.” It’s a subconscious line. It’s cute. It’s flirtatious. It’s hot.
It’s just what it is - it’s just who I am.
And… once it’s said we’ll get into our movie magic moment.
Me: You know, (our hands are interlocked at this point), on a scale of 1-10
E: Oh boy… you’re going to say 7.5?
Me: Nah, more like a 6.89
Six. Point. Eight. Nine.
THE FUCK?
Yes. I said
Six.
Point.
Eight.
Nine.
E: WhAt?!? Excuse me?
She pushes me away, she stands up, she looks confused, she looks playful but still carries a weight of fire… latina.
E: Um. You’re sleeping alone. Enjoy your nap.
Me: Ah. Well. Okay.
She slowly proceeds to open the door and walk out gracefully. I’m not going to chase, I’m not going to go outside. I’m tired, I am sleepy… I am. ugh.
Why. Jonathan. Why.
The door closes and I’m alone yet again, well not that alone.
I am holding Heidi’s Harry Styles pillow.
Fuck man. I sabotaged myself.
I’m used it…
My mind plays all the mistakes here, and in a matter of milliseconds I just accept my common mishaps - “at least I’ll get to nap as I have a lot of work to get done”.
I bury my head into Harry Style’s chest and try to dream of wonderful things. However, two pounding questions flicker into my mind.
Why do I do this to myself?
Why do I find a way to sully and destroy good moments when they arrive?
Memories resurface -
The time when I was 13 and I told the first girl who had a crush on me, “I hate you”. She cries. I close my front door. I apologize way too late.
The first time the girl I thought I would marry said, 'I am no longer falling in love with you… I am in love with you,' I responded with, “You know your definition of love will change over time, and you'll realize that you don't really love me the way you think you do right now.'
Why.
The time I cheated and broke the trust of someone so compassionately beautiful that I am now so happy she’s getting married to someone who matches - everything she deserves.
The many times I couldn’t say no with an advance just to confuse the girl later down the line. “if you didn’t want to stay in contact, why did you even want to cook for me or get to know me intimately?”
The time, the girl who I am in love with right now said, “you’re the only person who gets me for me…” and I proceeded with not a thank you but a terrible intimate action (just a gross insecure kiss) and forcefully acted all needy to subconsciously push here away.
where I fuck everything up.
Ghosting her for six months.
She ghosting me for three months.
Blah blah blah
The many times I’ve gambled instead of going out on a date.
The many times I’ve criticized my (ex)girlfriend’s appearance or essentially “shit on her” due to the massive insecurity that lies malignant inside my soul."
The many times I let my body go, allowed my finances turn into shit, and anything in between that shuts down my self confidence.
The list goes on…
All these memories are hitting me in every shape and form. But, I’m in therapy right now. Those past thoughts are in the past. Forgive myself.
You are worthy regardless.
I’m still have to nap because work is everything.
I have nothing but work.
Again, I have nothing but work.
So I scroll through my notes app to where she typed her number, and I send her one of those recovery texts. It’s a hail-mary:
It definitely can be seen as needy, but life is too short not to shoot your shot. She has yet to respond and I don’t think she will… hahaha. I’ve seen this play out. My expectations are very low. Besides, who would?
But even with all of that, my hundred year self is actually very pleased with this text. I’d regret it if I didn’t send the message. For all important purposes, at least it’s a great story to add into my folders of stories. It gets me chuckling.
Can I end with something here?
I’m happy this actually happened. I don’t know. Oddly, even though I’m full of regret for a moment, I’m not devastated. Why? Because it’s a moment reminding me that I, egotistically, kinda of have my groove back.
I’m currently in a situation, as you know from a past secret newsletter a couple weeks back, where I’m working on finding my mojo again. I’m searching hard and wide - understanding my confidence. I’m learning what it means to be consensually - aggressively - intimate again.
I’m figuring out where I stand in the world of dating and making moves.
Working out.
Getting myself together again -
Trying to get to a point where I am “knowing my worth.”
I’m not where I was back in college.
But it doesn’t have to be -
Because the mojo of that Jonathan has died.
I’m having a rebirth of something else.
I’m getting there.
Slowly my insecurity is dissolving.
And it feels oh so very good.
Thanks for listening as always.
11:12am at a Philz Coffee Shop
Ventura, California