Here's something painfully embarrassing: crying after sex. Yes, that's what I said. Crying after sex. And not crying because you're sad, but crying because you've had a couple of cocktails (still one of my favorite words) and now you're emotionally vulnerable.
I cried after sex this weekend. I know, I know: there's no crying in baseball! But apparently, there is crying in my apartment. Like a TOOL! Like a little bitch. Heinrich was NOT amused. I don't blame him.
The next morning he tried to tease me, but I told him the sex was so bad that I started crying afterward in relief that it was over. He laughed at me. At least he's a good sport.
I feel like I'm starring in that movie, How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days. But I'm not acting, I'm just being myself - which is the terrifying part.
I think it's fine actually. I think being emotionally vulnerable is healthy, especially after this year and a half after my divorce. With all the head-on collisions, derailments and ten-car pile-ups I've encountered in the dating world, I'm clearly a little rusty at being genuine rather than a shit-talking player, but I'll find my way.
One of the dumbest people I know (who has a great heart) told me one of the smartest things I've ever heard: You'll never win if you're afraid to lose. I try to remember this every time I have a serious decision to make, like taking a new job, moving (still in the air), meeting a new guy or making a new friend.
Either way, I'm sure I'm not the first girl Heinrich has made cry and it's not the first time I've cried. It's just the first time in a really really REALLY long time.
I mean, it could have been worse, I could have laughed after sex. And that would not have been good. AT ALL.