The dirt on Cincinnati, Part One

I have decided that the best way to share this horrible saga is to reprint parts of the letter I sent to the woman who was "just a platonic friend" of his, who turned out to more, although Cincinnati* was running hot and cold on her in similar fashion. And yes, I did rat him out to her, but only after I dumped him.

Although I don't think Cincinnati is a full-blown narcissist, he certainly has some similarities. I think he's closer to emotionally unavailable, although his months of messages to me suggested the opposite.

Anyway, here goes with Part One. It will eventually become obvious as to why I made the decision to write a letter to this woman, so bear with me.

Part One of the Letter

*******

Before I begin, I want to apologize for writing you out of the blue. But I have just gone through a miserable month with our mutual acquaintance Cincinnati, who I had a relationship with since 2010 (mostly online, with a couple of gaps and real-time visits). I recently discovered that he lied to me about some things, and two of the more blatant and upsetting lies concern you.

Since our relationship went on for nine years, it'll take me a while to provide an accurate picture (although some following pages are all screen grabs). 

(I'm going to cut out the history as it's already been mentioned earlier on this blog.)

After my 2017 visit and breakup with Cincinnati the following month, almost a year went by with no contact. By now, I had moved my mother near my rental to care for her. She died in hospice in February 2018. Later that year I decided to leave Texas as I had no family left here, and I hated the weather.

While packing, I found a saint's medallion I'd bought for Cincinnati in 2017 that hadn't arrived in time to give to him during my 2017 visit. I decided to mail it to him, explaining why I was mailing it after so long with no contact. I didn't expect a response, but I was pleasantly surprised when he contacted me immediately, saying he sorry I'd lost my mother. 

We began to chat again online, hesitantly at first. He eventually steered the to our mutual love of retro lingerie, and how we needed to get together so he could dress me in corsets and hosiery and garters. We spent hours online talking about our immense good fortune, and how we had despaired of ever meeting anyone who shared our interests. Many mornings, he would wittily invite me to have a shower with him online. We also chatted for hours about our next meeting.

Since I hadn't forgotten the disastrous 2017 visit, I insisted that I would only visit if he invited me. He kept mentioning this would happen, although he dropped hints on Instagram that I shouldn't postpone. 

By this time, I was again smitten with him. In July he ordered over $100 of hosiery in preparation for my visit, and even posted a screen grab of the receipt.

(I parked screen grabs of the receipt here for her perusal, and his asking me for my size.)

In mid-July I drove to Tennessee for an extended visit with my aunt. I also visited Columbus, Ohio to scope out possible jobs. I hadn't yet decided to move there, but it was one of several locations I was considering. Cincinnati knew all about this. Although he did not specifically invite me to Ohio, he said he would make every effort to visit me in Columbus. 

(here was a screen grab of an Instagram chat, where he says he'll visit me in Columbus.)

During my initial drive to Columbus in mid-July, I passed Cincinnati's condo by a few miles. We messaged about my stopping for an hour or two (bringing hosiery with me), but we decided to wait.

This is when things with Cincinnati began to get strange. It was if there were two different Cincinnatis.

Although he sounded desperate to meet me when I got to Ohio (I have over 150 archived conversations), they never happened. I began to notice that he talked about you constantly on Strava and posted photos of the two of you. So I began to wonder if you two were dating, since he was spending his spare time with you instead of me.

After a weekend when he had discussed getting together on a Sunday afternoon after a ride, but then going quiet and then posting pics of you all over Strava, I wrote him an email. I suggested we meet and simply chat. I got this email reply from him.

If there are nerves or doubts, perhaps we need to wait. It's been easy to get caught up in certain moments and discussions with you. Obviously it can be easier to express particular thoughts or feelings through this media compared than in person. I'm sure neither of us desire any regrets. More time might be what's best for both of us. 

This was nothing like his romantic Instagram messages and I didn't know how to respond. But eventually I wrote back and suggested we meet. He accepted this coldly and sent me a short note. "I'll be in touch". I was hurt, so I responded and said that I felt I had pressured him, and suggested we postpone meeting for a while. He didn't respond.

I eventually sent him a second email. I said that I felt that our meeting was more of a priority for me than for him, because he kept making choices how he spent his free time, and I was never his choice.

No response.

I eventually sent a third email and politely said that if you two were dating, he should be honest about it. I would bow out and let you two proceed with a relationship.

He answered the third one. He said that your relationship was platonic and you were a friend. In a few days, his Instagram messages became passionate again and he insisted we should meet before I left Ohio. Also, your photos stopped appearing all over his Strava app.

(Herewith ends Part One. The awful Part Two will appear later this week.)

The best and worst of times

I cannot provide a comprehensive report of my summer in one blog post. So here are the main points:

Although I never found a full-time job, I have more than enough freelance to live as a full-time, 100% remote freelancer. So this is my current job, and I have no plans to change this.

I have decided to move to Tennessee. I went to visit my aunt while on my way to Ohio to see Cincinnati*, and ended up staying for almost a month. I am back in Texas now, but only for a few weeks.

I have a lodger now. He has advanced cystic fibrosis but is the best rescue volunteer that the cat group has ever had. I felt 100% safe leaving him to watch the cats when I was gone.

Cincinnati turned out to be a sadistic narcissist. (I'll need to fix his entry in The Usual Suspects.) It was like he were two different people: Romantic Instagram Cincy, and Cold, Ghosting Cincy. I even met another woman who went through the same crap. We shared our Cincinnati intel, then we both dumped him within the same week. He's scared of us now and I like this.

In closing, here is my current life philosophy courtesy of Fredrich Nietzsche:

“For believe me! — the secret for harvesting from existence the greatest fruitfulness and the greatest enjoyment is: to live dangerously! Build your cities on the slopes of Vesuvius! Send your ships into uncharted seas! Live at war with your peers and yourselves! Be robbers and conquerors as long as you cannot be rulers and possessors, you seekers of knowledge! Soon the age will be past when you could be content to live hidden in forests like shy deer! At long last the search for knowledge will reach out for its due: — it will want to rule and possess, and you with it!”

Time to nut up or shut up

Yes, I'm still here in Texas. But I'm 95% sure that June will be my month to pack up my truck and depart.

Last week I had two interviews that were better than any of the previous ones. One was with a mortgage lender headquartered just south of Cleveland, and another was a huge realty conglomerate based just north of Chicago. But even if neither pan out, I need to quit being nervous about moving. I can't even find a contract-to-perm job if I stay here.

My last two bicycle rides were too sweaty for my taste. It reminded me how I've been declaring for years that I needed to escape the wretched Texas summers. 

Another reason for moving is that I lost my elderly Emily earlier this week. She was a small black cat I'd had for over ten years, and she was legendarily talkative. I could never get on the phone without her suddenly climbing in my lap and getting mouthy. She had gone into renal failure earlier this month and the usual sub-cutaneous fluid treatment didn't work (it doesn't that often). I could have never have left her at the house, no matter who ends up as my tenant/cat sitter.

As feared, my unemployment benefits stopped last month and there was no getting an extension. These days, an extension literally does not exist. Fortunately, a former MetLife stapher has begun sending me work from her new job with yet another mortgage lender, and a second lender has just sent me a non-disclosure agreement. I can keep doing both of these jobs no matter where I end up.

The existing freelance work helps but doesn't pay all of the bills so I've begun pulling money out of savings. Ian* has sent me money a few times while apologizing for constantly postponing my visit to Buffalo/Toronto. His new job pays very well, but I'm still not that comfortable with this. 

* See The Usual Suspects.

Still jobless, beginning to fret

I will receive two more unemployment checks in April, then I'm done. Unless I can talk Texas Workforce Commission into extending them, which I seriously doubt.

My indecision may be to blame. Part of me feels cowardly because I don't simply pack up my truck and drive to Chicago, find a garage apartment, and attempt some personal networking. But I have it set up so I can access the funds required to do this in just a couple of days. I'm still clearing the junk out of this house.

I continue to enjoy my cycling at White Rock Lake and Cincinnati* continues to flirt with me, so life isn't all bad.

One of my friends, who is from India, has suggested I marry someone wealthy so I can do what I want. She's quite serious although she's as American as I am. Of course, this led me to surf some of the funnier personal ads. Most are from the London Review of Books, although they discontinued this service several years ago.

This ad especially intrigues me as the poster found her husband through it.

I smoke, I drink, I talk waaaay too much and think even more than that, I swear like a longshoreman, I’m usually covered in dog hair, I do not order salad as a full meal, I always want to Talk About It, I might be funnier than you, I want to be taken care of but hate feeling weak, I’m completely disorganized, I will keep cuddling until you pry me off you (and so will my dogs), I say “awesome” a lot, I don’t lie even if it’s easier, I tell my girlfriends everything, I expect to come, and I’ve been told repeatedly that I scare the crap out of men. If that sounds like your kind of girl, awesome.

Still jobless, still not that bothered

I have a folder on my laptop where I keep all of my job applications and cover letters. I do this so I can recycle parts of cover letters - although I wonder if anyone reads them - and also as proof that I am job-hunting. The folks at Texas Workforce Commission (TWC) encourage job-seekers to keep track of all job applications so we can prove we're not sitting at home watching daytime television while claiming benefit payments.

While I've applied for lots of jobs in Illinois and Ohio - mostly Chicago and Columbus, although there have been a few appealing jobs in Cincinnati - I have only had a couple of online interviews. I eventually decided to look locally since the unemployment payments won't last much longer, and am shortlisted for a copywriter job at yet another mortgage lender. There should be a third interview next week. While I can't get too excited about it (the pay they've mentioned is awful), I'm hoping it will make me more attractive to other potential employers. 

Ian* has been in a much more attentive mood since he left LaGuardia for Buffalo's airport. I am tentatively planning to visit him later this month for a few days, as he's been asking me to do so since January.

Sometime I worry about this, as he seems keen to renew a physical relationship and I don't see this happening. It's been too long since we've seen each other, and the last time we were together he had no real interest in sex. I'm well-aware that he was overworked and miserable during his time at LaGuardia, but he still chose not to see me for a couple of years. And I am still hopeful about Cincinnati*, although part of me is thinking that he may prefer fantasy to reality. 

If no job eventuates this month, I am going to spend a week or two in Columbus, Ohio or Chicago. I stink at networking so I better figure something out before I depart, but sitting here isn't getting me another job, and I'm just about ready to go back to work.

* See The Usual Suspects.