Friday night I went out and had a time with some friends, talked to some strangers, drank some piss poor whiskey and had a few laughs.
Saturday and Sunday was a calamity of errors – I hurt both ankles, burned my back in the shower, hit my face and head on a closet door and bent both wrists backwards. Don’t even ask – I have no idea how I manged to hurt every inch of my body in a 48 hour period. I can honestly tell you I didn’t drink that much whiskey and I sure as hell didn’t do anything more strenuous than walk around my house.
From Sunday – Wed. I continued to text with a guy I met online who seemed genuine. I spent most of Wed. Fighting with my ex after I (politely) told him that I had a date, and didn’t want him to find out from our mutual friends. He reacted by acting like a child, trying to make me feel like “I” was the crazy one whilst telling me that I was his world and I was breaking his heart.
I quietly informed him that had I truly been his world, he wouldn’t have spent the last eight months ignoring me and basically treating me like an after thought. He went silent after that and hasn’t spoken to me since. I’m not complaining.
On Thursday morning I made the best pot of chili I’ve ever made in my life – from scratch and by hand while I waited to hear from this “amazing’ man who was going to take me to dinner, give me a beautiful glass of wine and a lovely walk on the beach.
He didn’t show up.
I cried a little bit, because I was disappointed, but also because all the horrible awful things my Ex said about me are kind of haunting me a little. I went to the grocery store, cried to my best friend, asked her what was wrong with me – did the grown up girl thing and bought a pint of ice cream. (I only had a few scoops.) I am genuinely ashamed to admit that it was chocolate with chocolate fudge and chocolate cookie dough (Sorry Sean!!!)
I cried a little more and when I got that text at two thirty in the morning I waited a few moments and replied with “Thanks, glad to know you’re alive. I’m going back to sleep.”
This afternoon I broke the rules. Deciding to give him the benefit of the doubt – maybe he isn’t “that” guy, maybe he’s working blah blah blah, I decided to give him a call. He didn’t answer.
So I politely informed him I would be having chili for dinner (and holy fuck, it really was phenomenal, seriously it deserves awards) and told him that I hope he has a great time while he’s in Vancouver.
Then I did the smart thing. I blocked his number. Moving on baby.
I realize that what J did was awful – that in his anger and hurt and feelings of “I’m not good enough” or his desire to be an asshole, he dug enough holes to make me feel insecure, unwanted, unloved and basically three inches big. It did not help that less than twenty-four hours this “great amazing” guy decided to reinforce everything J said by not showing up but hey, that’s life right?
KDarling (my best friend) often tells me that I attract sucky people into my life. She’s not wrong.
It’s not like I do it on purpose though, or even that I enjoy being miserable all the time.
I’d love to be that easy going west coast girl who smiles and laughs at everything. That beautiful girl who’s only problem is that “Everyone’s mean to me because I’m beautiful” however I live in the real world.
I live in a world filled with assholes, and you’d think by now I’d have learned how to deal with them. The problem is I’m still a really nice person, who’s super power consists of turning even the nicest people into the biggest shit heads.
The problem is not that I am a party girl – it’s not even that I am a fat girl. For the record it’s not me, it’s not you and it isn’t the men.
It’s the understanding of self.
I know what I want – I want a boyfriend. Not a one night stand and sure as hell not a husband. (at least not right away.) It’s in knowing that “I” want a boyfriend who is stable and strong, emotionally secure in his manhood and can handle things like drag shows, gay pride while playing football balancing a puppy on his head killing a spider and saving a kitten from a fire all at the same time.
Is that too much to ask for? Probably but at least I’m honest.
I’m not the girl who is going to mess with your head, lie to you or steal your shit. I’m the girl who is going to cause you 0 drama and unfortunately you don’t exist yet. At least not in my reality.
KDarling often laughs when I tell her who I am fairly certain (like 99%) my future husband is going to be, but we both know I’m more than likely correct.
The issue is that I attract these people who are “less than” me because I’m the care giver. I’m the one who is constantly taking care of everyone – and the kind of people who are looking for someone to take care of them, are not people who are going to treat me with respect.
They are not the kind of people who are going to love me as much as I love them.
Which leads me 928 words in to telling you about the cycle.
The cycle is this – I find these awful sucky people who drain me dry of every good feeling of self I have – until I’m miserable alone and sucking back the last of the good whiskey (because the bad shit is long gone of course) wasting it on people who don’t deserve it.
I clean them out of my life and demand better of myself, I completely remove them out of my life and demand that I will from here on out only have great people in my life – except then I get lonely so I bring back these sucky people – or worse I seek them out and dress up in horribly uncomfortable outfit spending way too much money on my own drinks (because I am way too independent to let any man buy my drinks for me.)
And the cycle begins again.
I’ve dated men who are totally unworthy of me, just so I don’t have to be alone – because heaven forbid I date the good guy who “wants” to date me, because I am somehow inferior.
I’ve been alone because I’d rather be alone than be miserable.
I like all of you women out there have run the gambit of dating the horrible guys and I’m still a Charlotte wondering where the hell he is.
Oh yeah he’s in another country living a wonderful life probably utterly unaware of my existence; Because why on earth would the universe make it easy on me?
GAW! Are you as tired of that girl as I am?
I don’t want to be that girl, I don’t even like that girl but the problem is I don’t know who else to be. I am who I am and that’s all that I y’am and there’s nothing you or anyone else can do about it.
I don’t know where he is but I know for certain he is not the guy who spent three weeks telling me how much he needs me only to decide he isn’t going to show up.
Gentlemen please, do us a favor – if you aren’t interested just say so. It not only makes it a lot easier on the guys who are interested it prevents us from making the guy who is interested feel like crap because the guy that wasn’t interested was a total dick.
Chances are high that a simple “hey look, I’m sorry but I’m not really sure we’re on the same page.” is much more preferable to you making us believe one thing, waste our time and find out later that you were full of shit.
Do I sound angry? that might be because I am.
What on earth makes you think your time, your life is so much more important than ours?
I don’t – I will never – understand how a person can lie through their teeth when the end result is that you don’t even get laid.
What did you accomplish there? What was the point of the charade, was it worth it? Does it make you feel like a man? I’m genuinely curious as to what it is about men that makes them think this is acceptable behavior.
Do I sound angry? I suppose it’s because I am – had I known you weren’t interested I’d have shared that amazing bowl of chili with the guy who was interested.
However I un-apologetically shared it with my family, and my dog and that shit was delicious.
So that was my week.
And as I write this, I’m smiling…Why? Because he’s out there, somewhere…waiting until we’re both actually ready.
Clearly I still have more snakes to skirt until then.
Anyone else have any “I’ve been there” stories? Maybe we can commiserate in the comments?