Saturday, March 7, 2015

The one where I dated the Brawny man...

   So, by now we've noticed a trend in my dating life, haven't we? I'm a magnet for crazy and destruction. Well, mostly. There must be something about me that makes everyone I date instantly know what they want in a partner to spend their life with, because I seem to be the female version of “Good Luck Chuck”. Truly, almost every guy I’ve dated has moved on to immediately meet the person they will marry or have a happy relationship with, or at the very least knock up. Once I got over the Hollywood Sociopath and Army Asshole, I ended up in this dating frenzy that, if I’m being honest, is a bit of a blur. I went on an absurd amount of dates (they were JUST dates... I have more class than where your dirty mind was going) with an absurd amount of guys. One of these guys just wanted a friends with benefits deal, although I did make him take me on a proper date before anything happened (or he tried to make happen. I ended up faking food poisoning at that point. Some things just look better on the hanger than when you try them on). He apparently saw me as being worth the equivalent of one matinee movie, and I was too distraught and determined to get over these crazies to care.

      Another, we'll call him Bill, was probably one of the sweetest men I’d ever met. Okay, he easily was up to that point. He called me Kitty, and despite my hatred of sickening pet names, I didn’t mind in the slightest. After a couple weeks of dates, I’d started to think, “Wow. Maybe there are decent men left in the world. Maybe my luck is turning around.” Let’s keep in mind that I was twenty-one and naïve as all get out. 

     Bill was a tall burly dude, like the Brawny man, and had arms that felt like being wrapped up in the warmest blanket on the coldest night. Well, at least that’s what I’d thought at the time. Now I know what warm really feels like. 

      On this particular date, which ended up being our last, we’d decided to go out to dinner, and I let him choose this time. I should have known that was a mistake. We ended up at a Mongolian place that wouldn’t have been my first, second, or eighteenth choice. Oh well, it’s the company that matters, right? As I was beginning to let myself open up and really let him get to know me, and honestly really let myself get to know him, he started fidgeting with his hands and looked a bit uneasy. Uh oh. I knew we shouldn’t have come to this place. It’s probably got Ebola all over it.

“So, Kitty, there’s something I need to talk to you about…” he began.

“Sure, what’s up?” I said, putting the forkful of food I’d attempted to start on back into my bowl.

“I really like you, and I think you’re a really fantastic woman. I’m so glad I’ve gotten to know you.” Okay, these are all good things, so why don’t they sound good?

As he continued, I absentmindedly started plastering that wall back up as quickly as I could. He started saying some more nice things that got quite vague, and the next thing my brain actually comprehended was, “…but I’m getting married tomorrow.”

“I’m sorry, you’re WHAT?”

“…Getting married.”

“Yeah. No. I heard you. Does she know? What are you thinking? You know what it doesn’t even matter. Good luck. I wish nothing but the best for you,” I blurted out within about three seconds.

      I left my food on the table and slapped down a few bucks for my share. I mean, I wouldn’t want to take any cash from his new wife or anything. As I walked out of the hole-in-the-wall restaurant, I realized that I didn’t drive myself. Shit. Instead of getting a second slap in the face and spending another ten minutes in the same vicinity as this lying jerk, I walked home… all five miles… in heels and a dress.

      Years later, I log on to Facebook and see a message from a name I don’t recognize. I open the message and start reading it as I’m sipping some pink moscato from a mason jar I found in the back of the cabinet. Dishes really don’t do themselves.

“Hey Kitty.”
I nearly dropped my glass, but I didn’t because it had wine in it and wasting wine is a sin.
“…I hope you remember me and I’ve been wondering how you are doing. I miss you terribly and I think about you quite often. I needed to send this message to apologize for ending everything so abruptly.” Well, you DID had a wedding to get ready for. “This is my cousin, John’s, Facebook account, so you can message me back here if you don’t despise me and want to message me. If not, I understand. Much love, Bill.”

Holy. Shitballs. 

Honestly, it took me a solid ten minutes wracking my brain trying to remember who the heck it was, but then it hit me like ten bowls of Mongolian food in heels.

      I sat and stared at the message, gripping my wine, for what felt like an entire episode of Pretty Little Liars before I started to type back.

I’m really surprised to hear from you after all these years, let alone remember me, especially enough to message me from a family member’s Facebook. I guess I made an impression, huh? Good to hear you are doing well. What’s new? How is married life?”

      Not that I actually wondered, I kind of just wanted to hear what his explanation or excuse would be; at the very least it would make a good story.. and I quickly got more than I bargained for. 

      He quickly messaged back boasting about his wonderful wife and two great kids and they were all doing great. YAY! I finished my wine before messaging back, “SWEET! Good to hear!” as enthusiastically as I could. The next message is probably the one that changed the whole situation.

“Hey, this is John. Bill left. Just wanted to let you know.” Well, at least his cousin is considerate. Hmm... I wonder if he’s as good looking as his cousin…

“Thanks, John. That was really strange,” said the moscato.

“You’re welcome. Bill explained everything to me. I’m really sorry he did that to you. He’s a good guy but he really used to be a jerk.” Hmm... Let’s check out his profile pictures. Oh, damn, he’s THAT cousin! I realized I’d met him once at a sports bar we went to one night to watch some football game. I also then felt like a total jackass.

“It’s okay. I can’t say I haven’t had my moments. That’s life, right?” I responded, hoping he couldn’t read my mind and realize I forgot who he was.

      After a couple weeks of texting back and forth, I started to actually like this guy. Not in like a dreamy, butterflies, I-could-see-a-future-with-this-dude sort of way, but I was willing to see if maybe something good could come of it. I'm not opposed to meeting friends. But still. Damn it. 

     John had come from a rougher background than I had, and faced more struggles to get by every day. He did what he could, but sometimes it wasn’t enough. After a few months of talking and me starting to really open up to him, I’d sent a message and never received a response. I knew his phone was broken and he was waiting for his replacement to arrive in the mail. Honestly, this should have been the red flag for me. Seriously, who waits for anything in the mail anymore?

      A week went by with no response after multiple attempts to text and call. Figures. Must run in the family. After about a month and a half, I got a Facebook message from him saying he’d, “just got out.” Ummm, from where?

“I lied to you. I was broke and had no money for a replacement phone, and I knew I had to keep talking to you so I wouldn’t lose you, so I stole a phone and was arrested for theft.”
Oh good lord.

“John, I wish you’d have just told me. I care much more about honesty and integrity than I do money or material objects.” Well, it was true… mostly. Why I spent the energy being nice to this moron is beyond me. Sometimes I think I am too nice for my own good; it might be the destruction of myself reall.

“I was embarrassed. You have everything and I have nothing to offer. I wanted to be good enough for you.” Aww, well, that’s sweet at least. Kinda.

      We messaged back and forth, and he’d hinted at wishing things were easier, like relationships and that I’d be a great person to have a relationship with. When I asked, “Why me?” and he responded with, “Why not?” I was a little taken aback.

“That makes me sound like I’m just another person that’s there and I’m an afterthought,” was apparently the wrong thing to say.

“You know what? Whatever, I'm done, then. Cause that's exactly how you treat me! I'm a second thought to you and you are never around when I need you. Everything that's happened has been because I wanted to be with you in one way or another. To be honest, you probably are talking like this because you already have another dumb guy in your life getting strung along, just like you did to Bill. I can't believe I chose you over my family! Well, at least I got a good orgasm out of it! That's just the kind of person you are. I can't believe I wasted any of my time on you, let alone the months I spent in lock up thinking of you! I was in love with you! And you wanted Bill -a married man who was probably lying to you just so he could fuck your brains out and drop you! You never really cared about me! You only cared about yourself and your superficial Californian life! I can't believe I ever stopped to think we could be together. I should've known I was just another name on your list! Go back to your superficial life, or even Bill for that matter, cause he is the only one that will fall for and deal with your shit. I've about had enough. I can get any woman I want! I can get a genuinely beautiful woman, with a beautiful body and a beautiful mind, instead of settling for someone who is black at the core!”
      There were so many insanely inaccurate items in that message, I wasn't quite sure which one to giggle at first. That was also the last I’d heard from him; I had no intention of responding to that level of crazy.

…Annnnnd another one bites the dust. 

No comments:

Post a Comment