Not Marriage Material is an upcoming anthology of non fiction and poetry – submissions are currently open. More information can be found here.
Falling in Love by Mike Laskey
Been chatting online with all kinds of new womenfolk. Brought these curious creatures into my tantrum last night. These dating-app gals fail to acknowledge that we’re there because we haven’t been able to find love on our own. In other words, we may not be the highest grade prospects. Personally, when I’m online, I lower my standards to the ground. Female – minimum, able to interact with me on a basic level. Yet, when I peruse these profiles, I’m blown-away by what I see. Many of these gals lead with listing characteristics they won’t abide. Their expectations, high; demands, extraordinary! Do they imagine choosing from a long line of suitor-princes begging for an audience? It’s like they’re saying, let me get my complaints out of the way first. Where’s the appreciation? But, that’s who we are, isn’t it? Pumping-up our pride, inflating the perception of ourselves. At least that’s how I felt, before I got mad and started yelling. Went and did yoga while they slept in. Came home, showered and changed, drank a coffee, and decided not to drive. When they woke up, we decorated the tree; took our time and made it special. Listening to punk rock music as we placed the bulbs and wrapped the lights, we stepped back to admire our creation. The tree fell over. We roared with laughter. Water poured-out on the rug, my worst nightmare, but it was still fresh and clean, so caused no damage. Dropped Lao at her friend’s house. When we got back, MZ and I fixed the tree. All seemed perfect, but MZ broke into tears worrying about her mom, who had to work Christmas Day. Their mom scheduled her family’s holiday party on my weekend, but that’s part of our tradition.
“This tree’s like our family,” I said. “It’s special! Means the world to us, and we love it. Yet, sometimes, it falls over. So, we pick it up and put it back together.” To MZ, I suggest trusting God, and praying. He said to cast our cares upon him. When we get good at doing these things, we become bulletproof. Nothing can stop us. We know what to do in times of trouble; exactly where to go. At the same time, the more we love, the harder the heart breaks. More the blessings, greater the challenges. Three weeks from now, I’ll put away the decorations alone, drag the tree out to the curb, and vacuum the pine-needles; probably spill rancid water on our living-room carpet, like I did three years ago. Family’s like a holiday season; everything’s amplified, and seems more intense; carries so much meaning. Virus has made it worse. News reported today that our state is preparing for the strictest lockdowns we’ve seen yet; because the numbers keep going up, and haven’t stopped surging. Truth is, they’ve said that from the beginning. It’s so bad, but might be good soon. It’s getting better, but will first be terrible. It’s getting worse, but the vaccine’s almost ready. Pastor said, friends come and go, but God comes and stays. Sometimes, I think being a follower of Jesus is more difficult than being an unbeliever. More spiritual attacks, and faithfully standing in a storm is more complex than running for cover. Pray every day that the girls understand how loved they are, always have been and will be. Hopefully, they forgive me for losing my cool. Ashamed, as opposed to a lady’s profile I saw. She wrote:
“I am incredibly interesting.“
Not saying gals gather hopefully around my profile. But, how can a person on an online dating app not be humble? Does anybody kneel at the side of their bed and cry out to God anymore? Bought another tin of peppermint bark, attached it to the card I made, and brought it to yoga this morning; got it to my favorite teacher anonymously. Filled with joy all class, thinking about her opening it, showing her kids and family. Look! One of my students gave me this gift! Was so pleased, knowing how much she deserves it. She’s one of the few people I know with a pure and vulnerable heart of a servant. She adjusted me more than once today, too; what a thrilling experience. Much appreciation. My girls adjust my attitude. They’re incredible. MZ is unique and independent; smart, and sensitive. She’s in for quite a ride. Lao dominates; watch out for this fourteen-year-old powerhouse. Her feelings run deep, too. My neighbor has a five-year-old daughter. This morning, he told me his daughter needs to open her eyes. Asked what he meant, but she was whimpering and he was yelling so I moved on. What could I say? Advise him to be patient with his little woman? How can I give advice regarding something I fail so miserably at, so often?
December 7th, 2020
MZ and I, lying around lazily for most of the day after dropping Lao at church to serve earlier, decided to go see the local live nativity scene. It was already dark outside, and we were excited to partake in another of our favorite holiday traditions. We love petting the camels, goats, and sheep every year, but the virus dictated this year’s live nativity a drive-through only exhibit. Line was too long, so we drove to church to see their light show. Didn’t find out until we arrived that pre-registration was required. MZ went online, only to find out that night was fully booked. At the same time, we pulled-up to the station where reservations were being confirmed, and Lao was standing right there. Woman in charge was Lao’s small group Bible-study leader, and we greeted each other happily. She waved us through. Vehicles packed the waiting area, but everything was extremely organized. Volunteers approached our car as we waited, wishing us Merry Christmas, and serving hot chocolate. Yes, please! Feeling was inescapable; we were back at church! Followed the cars in when our turn came. It was incredible! Typical of our church, top-notch production value – called Light of the World; felt like floating through the famously amazing theme-park ride, It’s a Small World. Appropriately costumed characters waving holiday cheer and the love of Jesus, smiling and handing out peppermint candy-canes. People danced and ice-skated, lights flashed through fog machines, and snow fell. Christmas music played throughout. Tears came to my eyes more than once. Lao’s friends, volunteering at various places throughout the route, would shout: “Hi, Mr. Mylcarski! Hi, MZ!” Shot video with my phone, and sent it to my group; they couldn’t believe it. The final section was dedicated to the story of Jesus’ birth, and it hit home. Drove away having been absolutely dazzled. Visited the nativity scene on the way home, turned on our tree lights and music, and Lao soon joined us. Perfect scenario, and we were all exhausted as we climbed into our beds.
Alarm rang early. Went to yoga while they slept in. Noticed much more loud chatter than usual before class, as the holiday spirit infiltrated the studio. Heard my favorite teacher ask her friends, which one of you wrote me that lovely card, with the peppermint bark? They all fell silent. One said, I gave you the wine. My son ate the bark, she said, but I really appreciated the note; it was lovely. My spirit soared. I’d written a special message and signed it, from: one of the girls. Good class. Girls were gone when I got home. Took a shower, made the lemonade, and turned on the app. Delivered a man’s key to his wife in San Clemente, then went home. Wanted a donut, and didn’t get any more requests. Chatted with a gal online who said she still has PTSD from raising teenagers. She misses human touch, and I said I need a hug. Went up and got my donut, swung by the store, bought rice cooker enchiladas ingredients, came home, made them, and ate them. It’s cold, inside and out. Snuggled under the blankets after eating. My niece is extremely upset about the Christmas card I sent to everyone. Trying to be funny, I assembled awkward photos from last Christmas, including one of her exiting a porta-potty. She didn’t appreciate that, at all. Fell asleep. Starting this next cleanse will be the biggest challenge of my life. Freezing-cold December, dark early; obstacles impeding my progress. Keep doing yoga every day, my only constant.
December 8th, 2020
Waves are huge in Hawaii right now, and hopes are high they run the contest at Pipeline. Gal I chatted with last night sounded a bit off-kilter, so I got out of there. Another gal suddenly liked me. Liked her back, and we started chatting. Not one to raise my expectations, God must get involved for it to happen, but it felt special. How can I manage a healthy long-term relationship with a woman, without divine assistance? We agreed to speak on the phone later. Going to yoga now.
Yoga has a hint of relaxation, but it screams strenuous effort. Hot power yoga pushes me to the limits of my endurance. Back home, Pipe event is called on! Wait all year to watch the world’s most dangerous wave challenge the best surfers on the planet. Invitational first round features local Hawaiian Pipe specialists, battling for a rare spot in the big show. Surf is unreal. Riveted to the screen. Ate the enchilada leftovers. Promptly feel asleep. Missed a couple heats. Gal I met online sounds different than the others. She goes to our church, and she’s been through trials. Going through trials can signal a humble heart for people, and I sense that quality in her. We’ll talk on the phone later, and if it goes well, we might meet this weekend. Crazy I’m not driving this week. When I’m in rhythm, I can cleanse and drive all day, every day. When I’m not, I can’t. Hot offshore winds are blowing hard outside; bet the surf’s cranking tomorrow. Mix a coffee and go. When’s the last time I surfed? For a while, it was front and center; then, it moved to the back burner. Yoga’s easy, because it’s across the street. I’m back in an hour.
December 9th, 2020
Got up early, did the yoga, then I made a coffee and went surfing. The waves were not big, but powerful enough to offer resistance, and the shape, though occasionally excellent, didn’t cooperate. Caught nothing remarkable, really, but scored an outstanding workout. Back home, I made a second batch of enchiladas. All day, I watched the contest at Pipe, ate enchiladas, and messaged with Allison. We’ve connected rather deeply, via hundreds of messages and a few promising phone calls, and set our first meeting for Friday night. The words she breathes into me are rare and refreshing. Both our former spouses crushed us, and we seek the nurturing love they couldn’t provide. She simply appreciates me, and my heart’s cried out for that so long. We’ve quickly developed a strong mutual attraction, though we’ve yet to meet in person. Lord, please, be in this. Proven I can’t do it on my own. Only way I’m going to be able to enter into and maintain a healthy relationship is under your power. She’s already been so nice to me. Is she the one I’ve prayed for? We’ve not met, but I don’t care. Can’t remember someone talking to me the way she does. Can’t wait to actually spend time with her, face-to-face. No matter what happens, she’s different than the others, and I consider her a possible candidate for the life-partner position.
Picked-up Lao from her Bible-study group. Drove thirty minutes each way, with a stop at her mom’s so she could get her stuff. The entire time, she listened to music through her earbuds and refused to interact. When we got home, I started walking up the sidewalk ahead of her when she heaved a pine-cone forcefully at my head. Turned around to see her laughing, saying she didn’t mean it. Was so angry, so frustrated, I picked up the pine-cone and nailed the back of her head so squarely she bled. These days are over, I thought. I’m tired of being a punching bag for these obnoxious people. Instead of gratitude, appreciation, help, cooperation, or simple conversation, it’s dirty looks, snarling comebacks, complaining, and silence. No more excuses. Our relationship is permanently damaged. You can’t treat people like this and expect to see or hear from them again. I may be an American idiot, and a Freaking Californian fruity loop, but that’s only part of the story. Thank God Jesus modeled suffering, and experienced the worst of it. He knows what I’m going through now, and have been through over the past decade. Lord, is it wrong to ask for, want, and need just a crumb of approval? God, I am broken, down to the bone; poking through the skin, greenstick fracture-style. You love me, I know that. Why’s it so hard to find love down here on Earth? Waited so long, and endured so much slanderous abuse. I’m a beaten animal. Is this what you want for me? I’m in a precarious place. Dealing with my brother, and the girls’ mom, the girls, years of evaporating real estate leads, nonexistent deals, failed jobs and relationships, poor choices, and bad decisions is putting my mental health in an extremely fragile state. Couldn’t even catch a wave today! Lord, I’m at the end of my rope. Maybe, this relationship with Allison will work. She gave me words of affirmation this morning, and I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face all day. Can this be your perfect timing on full display? Can it be now? It’s December and I’m desperate. Prince of peace, I pray in your powerful name. Amen.
December 10th, 2020
Haven’t slept well since I started messaging with Allison. The first night, I woke up to go to the bathroom and she flashed into my head like divine revelation. Is she the one? Do I love her? Is she the answer to my prayers? Sometimes, I get confused; like, is this really happening? Is she even real? We haven’t met in person yet, but based on the things she says, our discussions, and how I feel -and she says she feels the same way, it seems quite serious. I’ll ask to marry her on the first date if it is what I imagine it is. I know that sounds unreasonable, but what hasn’t been unreasonable every step of the way? Why can’t it be possible that God has moved us like chess pieces, and done a miracle by lining up two people perfect for each other? Do I believe? Yes, I do. She said she wants to see the light tour at church, and I got reservations. She’s so happy! That will be our first date. We also discussed going for a coffee and a walk on the beach Saturday morning. Last night, I woke up numerous times. Why not? She’s wonderful! Never had conversations with a woman like the ones we’ve had. Her belief in the Lord is strong. We’ve been so honest with each other, and I can tell she cares about my feelings. Why can’t it be true? If it’s not, then at least I’ll have another inkling it’s possible. See how I am? Expecting it not to work out. Been disappointed so many times. Waiting for the final curtain to drop. She told her friends about me, and us. I don’t tell anyone. Up in the night, dreaming, it’s already decided; we’ll be together from now on! This is it. She’s the one. I thought I was too broken to succeed in a committed relationship and marriage. She solved all that instantly. Still work to do, but based upon the proper foundation. How’d she put it? The loving, nurturing relationship we deserve, and let’s make up for lost time. Heaven-sent, she called me. I quoted a verse. She said it was music to her ears. The texts are golden. She told her friend she hasn’t met ANYONE like me, and LOVES that we’re so compatible. She forwarded me a message she sent another friend, that she met someone and hopes it will lead to a thriving, healthy relationship. Went online and updated my profile with, met an awesome gal and want to see where it goes, so not interested in meeting anyone else. Adding, if it doesn’t go well with her, I’m leaving this site anyway, so good luck! She saw it and was ecstatic. She updated her profile with the same description, then informed me we are now dating exclusively. When I openly told her I drive ride-share and pray with people, she said it blew her mind, that I was instantly under her skin. She loved it, and said my faith is one of my most attractive qualities. Who has ever said that to me? Who have I told I pray with people in my car, and had them react positively? She’s so wise, and beautiful, yet it’s her spirit, and her heart, that matters to me most. We’re meeting for the first time tomorrow, to drive through the amazing Light of the World. For the first time in a long time, I will allow my expectations to fly high. Will fearlessly open my heart to this wonderful woman, and watch God work.
December 11th, 2020
Anxiously anticipated this day. Will prematurely claim today as the day I may have waited for my entire life. Last night, messaging back and forth, she brought me to such a point. My heart beat furiously. She said she was a woman on a mission. Messing-up the sequence of the messages – and the actual words, but I literally needed a break. Abnormally buoyed by an extreme mixture of hope and love, words failed me. She took me to the heights, there was nothing higher but to say things only said in person. I said, our hearts are already holding hands. Then, my phone buzzed in the middle of the night. She messaged that she woke up after dreaming she kissed me. Her heart was racing when she woke up, she said. Back home with my phone, my heart raced, too. How wonderful it was, waking up in the middle of the night to her. Think we were meant to be. Don’t know the future but I know God. Of course, work is required to maintain anything worthwhile, but I predict this will be the best romantic relationship of my life. Prepared to ask her to marry me tonight, regardless of how ridiculous that sounds. It’s 1:00 pm, and our date’s at 6:00 pm, so there’s plenty of time to relax and get ready. Need to clean-out the car then stop to vacuum and wash it on the way. Then, I’ll be in place for, quite possibly, the next great adventure; the moment I’ve prayed so long to experience.
Dropped the girls at school on time, bought a coffee at the shop, and headed down to the beach. Beautifully warm day with clean blue skies and the waves looked terrific, so I hurried into my wetsuit and trotted down the trail with my surfboard under my arm. After the previous session, I began to doubt my abilities again; seriously considering hanging up the booties for the winter. Surfed well enough at Beach, and had a few quality sessions when I got back, but the weather turned cold and I didn’t surf for weeks. Surfing Beach forced me to recognize that if I plan on going back up there next year, which I do, and to stay out longer in bigger conditions, I need to train much harder. Today, however, I noticed a twinge in my back, and remembered straining it in yoga.
Mid-December, so, although it’s nice, it’s frigid. Water feels heavier. To describe what happened down there is difficult, but that’s never stopped me from trying. Essentially, the Lord and I shared intimate time together. We spoke openly. As I talked and prayed, we went deeper and deeper into the conversation, and, as if punctuating pivotal points, he sent perfect waves. I questioned him and he answered directly. Paddling back out after each epic ride, I’d gaze up at him and say, I see what you’re doing! That was the whole meaning; pointing up at him, smiling, nodding, and saying, you know exactly what you’re doing! Actually, half the meaning was understanding that I don’t know what I’m doing. Main point was, he’s in charge, and I need him! And, my response to that confirmation came in the form of overwhelming gratitude. Talked to him about Allison, and asked him for her. Recently, I cried-out to him, asking why he puts people in my life that abuse and don’t appreciate me. In the water, he said, I’ve put these people in your life because I love you.
Started rehashing the issues with my brother, how he calls me a liar, and how he stopped talking to me after I invited him to go up to San Francisco for the second trip. Precisely timed, I heard an enormous snorting sound behind me. Saw a dolphin. Sometimes, dolphins snort. Old age, sinus issue, blowhole blockage; don’t know why. But this passing dolphin’s snort sounded exactly like my brother’s snoring. Little Johnny and I were awakened more than once in the motel that night, because brother snored so loudly. Laughed, and pointed up to God; I see what you’re doing! You know exactly what you’re doing! After not speaking with my brother for weeks, he texted an invitation to join them in San Francisco. After a tenuous, anxiety-filled few weeks, God guided us to a special place from our past. Brother and I shared an amazing trip together, and, through a passing dolphin snorting, God taught me a lesson and I thanked him. He speaks to me with absolute clarity. Most would think I’m crazy, but they don’t hear from him like I do. Now, a beautiful girl has blipped my radar screen. Told her, we’re a God thing. She said her heart swelled. Imagining a healthy, nurturing relationship based on faith, I picture our two loving faces. Sent her a selfie in my wetsuit with the ocean behind, and she sent a selfie from work with a scripture she read this morning that perfectly applied to our situation. All Jeremiah expressed to me this morning is, we live on a brutally frightening planet. Thought at the time, better be with her while all that’s happening out there. Our hearts and minds seem astonishingly aligned.
Can’t forget to shave. Peel the dried boogers off my SF Giants sweatshirt. Instead, how about I dress nicely, brush my teeth, and style my hair with product? Interesting how I wrote, yearning for December, as if it held tremendous promise. Now, something potentially incredible is playing-out before my eyes. Love-messages coming and going, anticipating finally being inside our blast-radiuses.
Later that night
Just got home after the date. Came inside, turned on the Christmas tree lights, and it’s nice. Date? It was great. Relationship, however, is done. It’s over. Must I scrutinize the sequence of events, down to the tiniest minutiae? Have nothing but time on my hands, so might as well write a while. First hour of our time together was epic, good as dates get. We were so happy to see each other, and poured forth profusely; feeding into each other’s favorite love-languages. Went to see the light show at church, a phenomenal place for a first date. In her profile, she emphasized seeking her final first kiss, so I planned our first kiss under the falling snow. When we got to that spot, sunroof open, blue beams flashing, Christmas music blasting, fog-machine finishing the moody fantasy, we kissed lightly: all-star weekend! Then, carrying-on like two crazy kids in love, holding hands and trying not to stare into each other’s eyes too much, we drove slowly through the show. Personally, I’d already decided to love her forever, no matter what, so I complimented her often, listened closely when she spoke, and proposed marriage. She said she’d seriously consider it. Up to that point, it was the best first date I’ve ever been on, and she concurred wholeheartedly. At the end of the tour, she suggested we go back through a second time. Hesitating at first, I went ahead and drove back around. They waved us right through.
Second time around, she told me about bad dates she’d been on in the past – many with men who attended our church; all who behaved inappropriately. She mused obsessively, and wouldn’t stop. A video-recorded message by our pastor played at the entrance, and it was historically powerful, but she was lost in her sordid stories and didn’t hear a thing. Been there too many times. Gals regularly open with horror stories; some so bad I lost all desire to continue dating them. Drummers pounded rhythmic beats to start the show, yet she couldn’t stop telling stories from past bad dates. I’m thinking, you’re on the world’s best date. Why are you intent on reliving the world’s worst dates? All the wonderful characters waved and shouted Merry Christmas, but she didn’t wave back, see, or hear them. She was so far lost in her own sad world, even Christmas didn’t register. Ranting that there are no good guys left, how bad the world is, and being transplanted from a distant state, how little she likes southern Californians, she didn’t wave or say Merry Christmas back to one person. When MZ and I went through, at least when we weren’t staring silently at the show in awe, we waved and said Merry Christmas to every single character. Gently budging Allison away from her favorite subject, I slowed down for the snow section. Misty fog and flashing blue lasers filling the night sky, we moved together to kiss again, but she suddenly snapped out of her reverie and jammed her tongue down my throat. Was not appreciated, or enjoyed! Honestly, though she endlessly harped on how authentic and transparent a person she is, she misrepresented her appearance online. She’s a bigger girl than her pictures represented. I didn’t care. I still loved her. She touched on how she’d gained weight and gone through all sorts of physical ailments, and I was as supportive as a man can be. Fully praised her, let her know how much I appreciate who she is, made sure she knew I care about her, and even told her I loved her. Didn’t care that she was overweight, or that she talked nonstop about bad dates. Pre-decided to give my heart to her, and, for the most part, she was still attentive, approving, and affectionate. I still considered her marriage material. But, the date took a turn for the worse. Part of planning the date was knowing the lights would only take an hour. What would we do afterwards? I’d imagined bringing her home, turning on the Christmas tree lights, listening to holiday music, and snuggling, but I knew she’d worked all day, too. She lived five minutes from church, so the better option was dropping her off at home, getting a good night’s sleep, and meeting for a walk on the beach in the morning. We did talk about spending the entire weekend together, and both wanted to. Recommended we go back to my house. She agreed, adding that I could drive her home afterwards. I live over thirty minutes from church, in the opposite direction. Picturing driving home, getting cozy, having to drive her back to her house, then back home again, that late at night, sounded like a terrible plan to me. Resting at home with my pretty girl sounded awesome. Last thing on my mind was sex. I’ve been intentionally celibate for over three years. She wondered if I thought she might spend the night with me, and I said yes. Her mood soured immediately. Instantaneously, she categorized me with all those loser dates she’d described. Her eyes went dead. Love languages? Dryer than a dead sea. Everything crashed, and I stuttered nervously to explain myself. It all happened so quickly; we didn’t know what to do. Eventually, made the decision to go back to her house, relax, and reconvene in the morning. Her condo-complex has no guest parking, though, so I dropped her off, drove a quarter-mile down the boulevard, parked my car in a lot, and walked back. We were glad to see each other again; hugging, holding hands, and talking; but the topic turned serious again. She was really thrown for a loop, she said, when I suggested spending the night on our first date. She kept repeating that we were at church! All I could do was apologize. But, it was interesting to me that my deep-seated issue with women is that no matter how good I try to be, they’ll focus on what I do wrong, and her deep-seated issue with men is that no matter how perfect they appear, they’ll try to get her into bed. And, both those things happened. Isn’t that wild? Tried pointing that out to her, but she didn’t want to hear it. Then, she went straight into more stories about past abuses she’s suffered. Heart-breaking stuff, indeed; and sad. Tried to tell a story, but she said she was tired. Behind her, on the living-room wall, a huge picture of American icon Marilyn Monroe was mounted. Allison said she idolizes her. All at once, it dawned on me. Her look! The pouty lips and the squinted smile, the blond hairstyle, the eyelashes and makeup. She modeled herself on Marilyn Monroe. And, she did a great job. When we first met and she flashed me that celebrity smile, I went all gooey. She knew how to narrow her eyes exactly like Marilyn did. Bet she studied her films. But, she admitted that she considers herself an average-looking girl. My main goal of the date was to find-out if she could maintain continuity with the girl I’d exchanged messages with online. I’d dumbly broken my own rule #1. Never spend days exchanging messages before meeting. You must meet right away. Messaging, or texting, is a fantasy world; like the drive-through lights; a carefully presented show. Real world meet-ups are a whole different monster, just like real relationships take work. Before I left her house, I mentioned that, in a way, it’s cool we’re actually working through issues, like people in real relationships do; discussing difficult topics and being honest.
We hugged at the door, and it was nice. I still smell like her perfume. We kissed, and it was sweet. Asked her about going to the beach tomorrow, if she can walk on the sand. She’s not in the best shape. Like I said, she elaborated extensively on her surgeries, steroids, and braces; even lifted up her pants and showed me a major scar. She can’t walk on a beach. Her profile said she likes walking on the beach. Now I know it only implied that she likes it, not that she can do it. She said she wanted to sleep-in tomorrow morning, to call her at noon. She said I could pick her up, go to the beach, go by my house to see the lights, then drop her off. My house is a den of inequity, and she can’t walk on a beach. Felt lazy, and tired. When I hugged her goodnight, I had to reach way around. She laughed in her messages that the virus made her gain a few pounds, but she was at least thirty pounds overweight. I started the year one hundred pounds overweight, so I’m not judging. Even as she blamed her ex and immoral guys and the world and me for being so bad, I tried to take responsibility for the flaws I brought to my marriage. She couldn’t hear me. In the middle of a date I’d wager most gals on the planet only wish they could experience, with a guy she called freaking incredible and adored her, all she wanted to talk about was how bad her dating life is. She couldn’t even see the spectacular show going on all around her. She was blind to the most amazing lights, music, and snow, and ignored the most joyous characters trying to wish her the merriest of Christmas. In the midst of a celebration unlike no other, her face looked troubled as she stared at poo-poo and described it in detail.
Final straw? Yes, at the end. She hugged me, kissed me one final time, pulled back, looked into my face, and said,
“You ARE very handsome.” During one of her earlier diatribes, she lamented that plenty of guys are handsome, but lack character. As I walked back to my car, I thought, I’m done. I’m not exchanging messages anymore. On the way to the date, I had the idea to print-out all the affirmative, loving messages, because I prized them. The second I sat down in my car, I deleted them all in an instant. Then, I deleted my profile. When Marilyn Monroe flashed her iconic smile, our hearts melted. But, it was just another image.
Remarkable is the stunning sense of peace and joy I felt driving back. Home now, completely at ease, and praising Jesus for the journey he guides me on. Seeing life as a sequence of things he shows me, and shares with me; even if it’s just a pretty girl fawning over me, holding her hand, or my heart fluttering during our first kiss under falling snow. Regardless of the outcome, the gratitude is abundant, the contentedness complete. Overtly assuming she’d spend the night with me was a mistake, and I apologized, but, like with my niece and the Christmas card, all my sorrow fell on deaf girls. Tonight, I dressed myself in my finest clothes, showered, shaved, put on deodorant, and even washed my car on the way to pick her up. Timed her final first kiss with the snow falling and the blue laser light flashing through the fog; focused my attention, kept the compliments coming, and flooded her with effusive love. Created a form of first-date perfection dazzling to your average gal. It was no ordinary first date, like meeting for coffee, not by a longshot. It was freaking impressive as all heck. But, it wasn’t enough. And, if I can’t do it with perfection, what chance do I have doing it as I truly am, under the bright light of a daily routine, stumbling constantly, stunted by spiritual depravity? We’re all in relationships; with our own deep-seated issues. Thank God a remedy exists; the great redeemer, baby Jesus.
Goodnight, Marilyn!
December 12th, 2020
Nice morning. Pipe Masters called-off for the day due to a positive virus test from a crew member. Tragically, the girls’ event at Honolua Bay cancelled for the year because a man surfing near the contest-site was fatally bitten by a shark. And, I just lost the love of my life. But, what I recently shared with the Lord, what he’s shown and shared with me, epitomizes the truest love there is. God is in control, and he loves us. We will have trials, and they will produce endurance, and hope, which brings gratitude, peace, and joy. Does anyone dispute the presence of evil? Why do non-believers spend so much time doubting God’s love, and so little time discussing the catastrophic consequences of evil? If we’re basically good, why are we so ignorant of the dark cauldron boiling inside us? Believing church is for perfectly behaved people is misunderstanding that church is an assemblage of people who recognize their imperfections and need for saving.
Did have sex on my mind last night. Not as part of a secret plan or anything, nor something I instinctually desired, but, if it would have happened organically, I wouldn’t have stopped it. It’s a problem. Never been a guy into porno, and haven’t been intimate with a woman for over three years, and another three years before that time. Actually, one romantic partner every three years has been the ratio since the separation. Doesn’t mean the impulse is gone; just semi-dormant. Allison just messaged that she’s looking forward to our date today. Already cancelled my name off the waitlist for morning yoga because I think I strained my back. Enjoying a nice coffee. Bank account is down to one hundred dollars again. Remember this place? January of this year, after frolicking through winter wonderlands in Oregon and Yosemite? Not the same because I’m ninety pounds lighter and written five hundred pages. Still, what the heck am I doing? Ready to hand my heart over on a silver platter to a Marilyn Monroe impersonator, because she crafts a heck of a message? She’s an emoji-master! Meanwhile, I was blinded by a fantasy, and found out it wasn’t real. Concurrently, God clearly showed me that his love is real; enduring like no dream can. Arrived home last night feeling the complete opposite of heart-broken. Literally buoyant beyond belief. Placed all my bets on Jesus, put my life in the hands of the one that lasts, and hit the jackpot.
We exchanged texts. After mentioning how much she loved kissing me, she suggested we let the negative parts of our date fall away behind us, move forward, and have fun. Unfortunately, for me, that’s impossible. Began by messaging her that I can’t be one of the “good ones” she’s looking for; that I’m flawed and messy and weak in the face of temptation, and that I don’t want to disappoint her again; especially after trying my hardest to do and be everything I thought she deserved, wanted, and needed. Messaged that I don’t think I’ve ever expressed myself to a woman like I expressed myself to her this past week, and last night; and to still fall short, with her disappointed in my character, was too bitter a pill to swallow. She replied that she respected my decision and wished me good luck. She was right, though. Inviting her over to my house was inappropriate, and I saw no problem with it at all. But, it was way more about laziness than sex. I didn’t want to drive back and forth twice! She puts forth a stunning appearance on that dating app. Thirty guys liked her this week, she said. If I’m lucky, I get one or two. In real life, she looked different. If she showed realistic photos, her likes would drop dramatically. But, that didn’t stop my feelings for her. If she maintained the same loving energy she started with, I would have married her. But, she couldn’t. She didn’t even try. She defaulted straight into her stories, which were so tragic I won’t try and describe them, but it is truly sad because they prohibit future solutions. None of that changed the way I felt. But, when she questioned my integrity, and found me sadly lacking, I lost it. She misrepresents herself as a starlet on her profile, and, carefully made-up, she is gorgeous. During the light-tour, the lady handing out peppermint sticks stuck her head in the window, looked at Allison, and gasped, “Wow! You are so beautiful!” But, when you peel away the skin, we’re all made of flesh and blood. We are all broken. I get that I’m a failure, and I apologized for subjecting her to my perversion. At the same time, let’s all look into the mirror. Her first message this morning was, ready to go out again, but with stipulations. She called on the phone after our final message, to make sure she understood. I said, I brought my best, and it still wasn’t enough. And, that made me realize that I have a deal-breaker; someone who finds the one wrong in a thousand rights. That’s what my marriage was like, and I pray I’ll never have to go through that again. Questioned why she portrays herself so sensually on the app, then acts surprised when guys respond accordingly. Told her I think she’s beautiful, but average-looking girls don’t get thirty likes a day. She said she gained a few pounds from the virus, but the car springs creaked when she got in. First thing she said to me in-person was that she’s self-conscious about her weight. She doesn’t walk, or workout, at all. Told her about the cleanse, but she said she won’t give up her coffee. Saw immediately that she misrepresented herself, but still loved her. She found a fly in the cornucopia and loudly declared her disappointment. Honestly, I swear; it’s that princess-syndrome. People naturally seek the flaw, then we wonder why our lives suck. MZ and I not only waved and said Merry Christmas to everyone we saw during the lights, but our eyes also filled with tears of joy repeatedly. This gal hardly if ever acknowledged one person, so focused was she on the “bad times.” It’s possible that leading with the bad is a popular strategy for the online dating process. I didn’t mention my girls’ mom once, other than admitting my role in the failure of our marriage. Never brought-up one past date, or mentioned any misfortune. Made it all about her, and I was in heaven. But, I recognize this feeling. Could have been down on one knee, presenting the diamond ring, with the dream-life waiting behind me, and she wouldn’t even have seen me. She could not consciously pull her eyes off her issues; absolutely couldn’t be present. I closed the door. Before I hung up, I exclaimed, I feel like I just lost the love of my life! What the heck is wrong with me? Do I think this is a movie-set? I’m seriously deranged; messed-up beyond repair. So, I come to Jesus. Faith looks insane from the outside, I get that. Saying you hear God generally marks you as a lunatic. But, how can you argue with a heavenly Father who knows your every intimate detail, loves you better than any human ever will, and works harder than any earthly dad ever did or could, to protect and provide for you?
You want to talk about gratitude? Freed from driving back and forth across the southland today, listening to tragic stories, sitting on benches – because walking’s out of the question, and ultimately falling-short in someone’s estimation. Literally, so broke, spending the day with her would have bankrupted me; both financially, spiritually, and emotionally. That’s a good one! Obesely overweight to start this year, so you know I have an affinity for moms of all shapes and sizes. But, you have to be present, to shut up and say, wow, this is awesome. Thank you!
Now, I’m in big trouble. First felt an issue with my back last night in bed. Don’t know if it’s from yoga, surfing, or the date. My body was twisted in the front seat all night, facing her, and sharing about one hundred of the sweetest, most delicate little kisses. We sat side by side at her house, too, and I twisted towards her again. Now, sharp pain burns in my right lower back. So painful I feel nauseated, like I might throw-up. Bought stuff for gourmet cheese sandwiches; about to begin an old-fashioned Manchester derby. Lord, please touch this pain away. Let this discomfort subside.
Talking-trash during the mid-match break. No secret I talk trash. Imagine all the garbage my girls, their mom, and my brother have heard coming out of my mouth. Doesn’t help I talk too much. Look at my writing, five-hundred pages of confusing collateral damage, and know it’s always on my mind. This story’s the most detailed revelation yet, regarding how my brain works, and why my way of thinking creates problems. This one’s about Allison, because it’s fresh, and must be said, but first I’ll trash myself.
For long ago you broke your yoke and tore off your chains, saying, “I will not serve!” Indeed, on every high hill and under every green tree you lay down as a prostitute.
Jeremiah 2:20
But you have more gods
than a prostitute has lovers.
Why should I take you back?
2 Just try to find one hilltop
where you haven’t gone
to worship other gods
by having sex.
You sat beside the road
like a robber in ambush,
except you offered yourself
to every passerby.
Your sins of unfaithfulness
have polluted the land.
3 So I, the Lord, refused
to let the spring rains fall.
But just like a prostitute,
you still have no shame
for what you have done.
4 You call me your father
or your long-lost friend;
5 you beg me to stop being angry,
but you won’t stop sinning.
Jeremiah 3:1
I’m the prostitute these verses refer to. Even though I’ve only dated four women since the separation – approximately one every three years, relationships that lasted anywhere from two weeks to two months, all became sexual. Instead of resisting temptation, and fleeing sexual immorality, I praised the Lord for allowing me to experience the gloriously tactile gift of feminine form. Ultimately, he convicted me, and I ended those relationships.
God has blessed me with so much love in my life. Didn’t begin immediately. Nearly all my friends lost their virginity before I did. That encounter finally happened when I was seventeen, with the first love of my life. She had a boyfriend before me, and, more experienced than I was, took matters into her own hands; which I was eternally grateful for, because I was clueless. That relationship lasted approximately one year. The girl I chased up to San Francisco was the second love of my life, and we were together approximately eight years. My girls’ mom was the third love of my life, and we were together eleven years; half of those in holy matrimony. For approximately twenty years, between first losing my virginity and separating from the girls’ mom, I was in committed relationships. That adds up to five years of being single in-between. During those five years, I slept with an average of one girl a month. Didn’t prowl bars for loose women, or lust after anything that walked. If I met a gal and we connected in a meaningful way, we’d naturally spend the night together. It was the eighties in Orange County, late eighties in Hawaii, and early nineties in San Francisco. Didn’t know Jesus back then, but knew how to party, looked cute, and was funny enough to draw attention from the opposite sex. One more thing; I don’t tend to hold my love back. Coupling with qualified prospects came easily for me. And, on two separate occasions, girls I slept with had abortions. Though it now fills my heart with regret, and profound shame, and I’ve shed tears, it hardly affected me back then. Youthfully ignorant, I reckoned the procedure a welcome solution. That’s the evil in me; unconscionable. Could claim it wasn’t me but the sin that lives in me, but I’d rather take responsibility for my actions and confess. Last night, I thought snuggling with that gal was a wonderful idea, and if we ended up consummating our love-messages, all the better. Frankly, I was shocked she was shocked. She sent me messages in the middle of the night; imagining kissing me in bed. Why not experience it real-time? At one point, she said she’s been told she’s good in bed. Who would say that? I’m a prostitute, and I’ve never tried to advertise. She can barely move! Girl, I do hot power yoga every morning! Do you realize how flexible and effectively balanced my energy is?
Gal I met in September was awesome; cute, fun, and cuddly. She laughed a lot, and I loved spending time with her. First date, she came over and we “messed around.” I held her in my arms, and caressed her lips with mine. But, she had no game. Few skills in the intimacy department. You can’t just lay there. She told me her ex-husband stopped making love to her. Yeah, because you’re lacking in technique! Unacceptably deficient!
We’re all incorrigible. Gals on that dating app should be grateful ANYONE reaches out. Received very little attention myself, so I’m not pointing fingers. I was grateful when ANYONE responded, and poured-out loads of appreciation. That they respond with demands boggles my mind. Horny men flocked to Allison’s profile because they thought they were getting Marilyn Monroe. Truth is, if you scrubbed away all the product, she more resembled Marilyn Manson. Both my girls said they won’t have sex before marriage, and if a woman told me she felt the same way, I’d respect and comply with their desire. My experience is that women are much more aggressive than one might expect. At the same time, and this goes for me, too, you can’t be massively overweight and also expect a long line of suitors. If anyone knows, I do: you can’t be morbidly obese and emotionally healthy at the same time. Described how differently women look at and treat me after I lost weight. Looking in the mirror sometimes, I can’t believe any legitimate prospect would find me attractive. She wondered why I haven’t been in a sustained relationship for over twelve years. Am I too battered and bruised, or just a weirdo? Recommended she set up meetings with those thirty guys that liked her, and see if she experiences anything close to the first date I set up for her. Yet, she was correct to protest, because I’m a prostitute. Good for her. Respect her for that. Fortunately, the confrontation broke the spell; shook away all the magic dust; and forced us back into reality. Without God, I’d burn in hell. With God, and a million miracles between now and the day of judgment, I may just barely escape eternal hellfire. The gate is narrow. When I begged my girls to prioritize repelling guys over attracting them, I said, guys are so perverted! You have no idea. I’m pretty good, I said, and I’m terrible! But, all those repellant guys sure boosted my numbers.
There’s nothing good in me. That God still loves me is the good news. That he died to save me is divine miracle, and a gift only has value to one who knows they need it. As Allison lamented the sad lack in her life, our turn came to pull alongside the nativity scene. Joseph and I caught eyes. He glanced down at baby Jesus, looked back at me, and nodded. I slowly nodded my head, too, muttering, “Thank you, Jesus. Thank you, Lord.” Then, I turned to her and said, let’s go to bed. Our magical date ended. She could have laughed, and said, no way, but she didn’t. She put her foot on my neck, and didn’t let up. Thank you, God! In a millisecond, when he said now, we dropped from the heights of Mount Everest to the Marianna Trench. Welcome to wisdom; only good thing is Jesus. Worst stories I had were three bad breakups and two teenage terrorists. Her tales were soul-crushing; basically, bad as it gets. Put her on a pedestal, held her hand, stared into her eyes and told her how much she means to me. I spoke to her in ways I wish I’d spoken to my own wife. Now, I’d give anything for another one of her sweet kisses. She crinkled her eyes at me like my wife used to. If she came over, I’d make her the best sandwich.
Canceled all my yoga classes because my back’s jacked. I miss Allison so badly; feel like I blew it; weird, wacky stuff. Feeling unwell, and attributing it to being out late in the cold night air, twisting my body, falling in love, crashing back to earth, reconciling with baby Jesus, and being fine with following him full time.
Woke up from a nap and it hit me like a monster truck. This is a kidney stone! Had two in the last five years, and the pain brought me to my knees both times. Took the final two pills remaining from the old prescription. Preparing for the assault. Glad girls aren’t here to see it.
December 13th 2020
Lying in bed last night, battling the stone, when MZ arrived to pick up her surfboard and borrow my racks because she’s going surfing with her friends today. She drove herself to my house in her mom’s car for the first time, and it created a strange sense of powerlessness in me, yet it’s just another reason why I entrust the most important elements of life to Jesus, and pray incessantly. Secretly hoped Allison would call, and come over to take care of me, but she’s tough, and has moved on: that’s my gal! Recommending she represent herself more truly online for a better chance of meeting “the one” she’s after removed any last bit of goodwill leftover between us. She called herself transparent one time too many; couldn’t help myself. Had plenty plans for us. We’d both be alone on Christmas Eve; we could have spent it together; exchanging gifts, whispering in each other’s ears while watching the Christmas tree lights twinkle, and listening to holiday music. Those were the things I dreamed of doing with her! Clasping carnally was way down on the list. Haven’t I proven my ability to abstain? Being celibate for years at a time doesn’t bother me. Sexual acts are more temporary than taquito-munching. It’s not sex I crave, but intimacy. She hinted at providing that, but bait-and-switched love languages for stipulations. Hated sweating at her house, trying to explain myself. She said, well, you’re still here, aren’t you? Like I was lucky she let me stay.
I miss more red flags than a blind referee. But, I’m now aware I have a deal-breaker; someone who believes they do everything, that it’s harder for them, and you do nothing. Like a debt that can never be paid, a person who’s hard to please will break your spirit. When a thousand things go right, and they point at the one thing that went wrong, run! Being under ideal conditions isolated the issue like a meet-and-greet for coffee never would have exposed. Her only stipulation? Be one of the “good ones.” Ain’t going to happen. Tried too hard and failed too often to still believe I can be without sin. Did something good come out of it? Yes, she only has 999 frogs left to kiss to find her prince. Suggested she go straight to the prince. If she messaged, I’d respond, I miss you. Definitely no way we’d work out, though. Not enough health, or healing, to endure the transition from fantasy to reality. Could we hang out and have fun? Possibly, but not for long. Was I relieved? Absolutely. Why go another two weeks, or two months? But, am I capable of finding, creating, and maintaining a healthy long-term relationship? Of course I am! When she first stepped into view, and I realized she was overweight and had manipulated her photos, did I demand stipulations? No. I smiled widely, and thought, that’s my girl!
If that three-hour date was a thirty-year marriage, the first ten years were pure bliss. The second ten years were a long series of warning signs, and the third ten years were a mad dash to get the heck out of there. Now, it’s Sunday and I’m warring with a kidney stone, praying it soon passes. What am I doing? I’m flat broke again! I must get out and drive! I must cleanse! No idea how this year’s going to end. But, I know this story’s over at the tick of 2021, or thereabouts.
Falling in Love by Mike Lackey is an excerpt from Expelled Toxins by Mykel Mylcarski, which can be bought from Amazon here
Author Bio: Mike Laskey
Mykel Mylcarski is an American adventure-journalist who loves to go on fun trips, take a lot of pictures, and write about his experiences. Other than a few honorable mentions in reputable Surfing publications, he’s published nothing significant, but hopes to change that with his new offering, Expelled Toxins. He’s lived in Hawaii and San Francisco, spent months at a time exploring Mexico, and now lives in sunny Southern California, where he laments the fact that he rarely gets to see his two daughters, ages 17 and 20, because they’re just as adventurous and independent as he is, which, ultimately, he is exceedingly grateful for. Expelled Toxins, book one of a five-part series, he calls his “Love Letter to God and My Girls,” subtitling it. “An Essential Guide for Helping People Get Through Tough Times.” Now available on Amazon, pick up your copy today, and get inspired to thrive!
SueBavey.com 