IS IT ME OR IS IT THEM?

In my previous post, a brave anonymous reader left the following comment, “You are a freak and a weirdo. Same story over and over. It may be time to accept the fact that its you and not them.”

So for this post, I’ll let you be the judge. Here’s the background. I went out of town to meet her for the first time. We seemed to hit it off. There was a definite physical connection and because of that, I can no longer say that the number of women I’ve been with I can name on one hand. Yet on my last night, she told me I wasn’t what she expected but that maybe I’d grow on her. Ugh. That was it for me. I didn’t want to have to grow on her or anyone. I was mentally done. Another case of ‘just friends.’

After she came back home to South Florida, we hung out quite a bit. Yet she ran extremely hot or extremely cold. She was hot when we were together but then felt guilty about being with me due to her religious beliefs and the fact that she was vegan and I wasn’t. She’d insult me one minute then love me the next. I tried to remain forgiving but eventually it was too much for me. I don't need negative people in my life. This was our final email conversation. So I pose the question to you all. Is it me or is it them?

FRIEND: todd, i am sorry to say this to you but you are one of the least intelligent man i have ever known. now you must face this every day and get yourself in emotional drama, for what? i am glad that i am over you, way over. i can't stand your emotional reason, no logic, no nothing and based only on your mind. When i go out with you, i often thought this guy who purchased tons of make up stuffs to send to someone who did not give him even a kiss, spent in ordinate amount of money for an air head just so that she could stay for a week, wined and dined someone so that at the end she married someone else, and here someone who loves him, made love to him and be there almost every step of the way, yet he could not spare 25 bucks to get her a ring. i can never forget that. no, not that i am poor or anything but that day marked something in me that i finally understand. and that is, men love to chase and often forgot the gold already in his possession. I don't care who you will meet, you never find a second person like myself, never in a million year. i am in love with charlie -- and i am saying this to help you open your eyes and see things clearly for a chance. we will never be back to where we were -- not that you care – thanks. God that now I also don't care.

ME: Who's fucked up? Me or the woman who loves me one minute and hates me the next? The one who asks me to the beach and kisses last week but tells me she loves someone else this next week. The one who is constantly on again off again? You have made it clear enough how little you respect me or like me or whatever. I get it now so please do not email me anymore. And one more thing. I TRIED to pay for your ring but they didn't take American Express. I've been called many things but never cheap. I would have paid for it if I could have.

FRIEND: Love comes very suddenly ... and I do love you as a friend. we will always love each other as friend and still have the 'hot' for each other I think. I did not know about the american express and I am sorry but that event made me felt like shit for a very long time. I am here as your friend and I won't go any where, sorry.

ME: You said, "we will always love each other as friend and still have the 'hot' for each other I think." How can you possibly think that after just telling me, "you are one of the least intelligent man i have ever known. i am glad that i am over you, way over. i can't stand your emotional reason, no logic, no nothing and based only on your mind." Not to mention all the crap you said about what I spent my money on. OK. I didn't buy you that ring. I already told you it was because they didn't take my credit card. So that pissed you off and you never told me about it. Think about this before I go away. Did you ever ask yourself did you ever pay a penny for anything while you were with me? I think I pretty much paid for everything. I can't love someone who continues to insult me and my intelligence or lack of intelligence as you believe. I mean it. Please do not write me again. Friendship is over.

FRIEND: we have been through alot and all friends quarrel. i often speak before i think and this is something i must work on but throwing a great friendship over words is silly. after all i stick by you regardless of whom you love or don't love. that should speak plenty what kind of friend i really am to you. any way, in my heart you are my friend regardless what you say that i am not.

SITUATION RESOLVED

Our post-Moose Party was at a small pizza bistro. The question was asked. I went last. Her friend said she wanted a house in Germany. Next. She wanted to be able to swim, dive, and snorkel and not have to work. Next. I knew what I wanted; I just didn’t know how to phrase it properly. Once I said it, I couldn’t take it back. So I sat for a minute thinking. I knew I could think of something else I wanted and just avoid it all-together. But that’s not me. I understood the consequences and readied myself for the predicted letdown. I looked at her friend and said, “I want to get to know her better.” And that was the truth. That’s all I really wanted. It wasn’t meant to be a typical male smart-ass sexual remark. We’d been hanging out for the past month or so and having a great time doing a lot of fun stuff. It was easy. It seemed natural. I wanted to continue and build our friendship.

But the look on her face said it all. She didn’t have to say anything and as much as I tried to hide it, I’m sure my face expressed my disappointment. Sure there were complications and I’m a swell and funny guy, but as I’ve previously said, it boils down to pulchritude. It wasn’t there for her. I wasn’t her type. No huge surprise for me. I mentioned the subtle clues. Clues I’d second guess and wonder about because often times, from my misguided point-of-view, there seemed to be a connection. But I’ve been here before. Déjà vu. Smart, funny, classy, cultural, and attractive. The whole package. Or so I thought. The big difference this time around though was that she was actually available which wasn’t the case with my previous failures.

I think having gone thru this for the 4th time in four years, I have now realized that women in their early 30s won't likely be physically attracted to me. Although 46 is just a number, and no matter how I might think I don’t look, feel, or act 46, there are a lot of perceptions younger women have about that age. And it's not like I seek out women in their 30s. I don’t. Of the last four women I’ve dated, three have been with women in their 40s and one was 50. But I just seem to bump into these early 30s situations. And when I do, I end up with a one-sided connection. So what I've finally gotten through my thick skull is that I have to dismiss any hopes of a relationship (short-term, long-term, or otherwise) with these younger women. But that’s OK because it's reality. And I do think there is a big maturity difference if I look at things objectively.

We’re still gonna be friends. After all, that’s my specialty, isn’t it? The good friend. But I think I’m handling it well. I’ve made a lot of progress from four years ago. I don’t cry anymore. And I didn’t drag out the suspense for a year. Only a month this time. Nice progress, Plantation. But I gotta get better about this hope thing. I have too much of it. It interferes with said reality. And I do get this pit in the stomach feeling as if someone had sucker punched me there and had stolen my adrenaline. I feel it when I run and when I work out. That little motivation is missing. No wind in the sails. But that’s probably typical of anyone who gets rejected. And to think, I had one of the best days I’ve had in a long, long time recently. It took the usual 2-->5 days to clear my head. Plenty of restless nights where the mind didn’t want to stop thinking. I was the King of Pain again walking the Boulevard of Broken Dreams, but I’m back to normal now. Standing me up for the concert cleared my head in a hurry.

You wanna know who I discussed this with? My soon-to-be 12 year-old son. He’s gone through girlfriend #1 and he’s already on the prowl for #2. He likes someone and he asked me if he should ask her out? I’m proud of him. He already knows my standard answer. Always ask, the worst thing she could say is no. And then I relayed this little story to him. He was sad for me and knows I had to take time to get over the disappointment and move on. He knows because I told him it’s what we must do. Apparently he did that pretty well with #1. I guess the chase continues for both of us.

DEJA VU

I’ve been here before. More than once, in fact. So I should know better. I do know better. Our lives are filled with plenty of mistakes made. The key is learning from them, isn’t it? I realize I’m hard on myself, but one of the biggest problems I have with “me” is not learning from mistakes. That requires among other things, common sense, a sound mind, and good judgment. I feel like I possess them. But for me, they are clouded by, of all things, hope.

I’m still reviewing the situation, and I know hope has no business here. I know not because of being hit in the face with a frying pan, but by keenly observing and listening. The clues are subtle but there. It's possible I'm wrong but doubtful. So by all means, I should dismiss hope and spare myself an extremely difficult letdown. I really thought I could, but now I’m not so sure. Déjà vu.

REVIEWING THE SITUATION

I thought I had this whole L-I-F-E thing figured out. This goal of mine. The chase. I wrote the ending to the book a year ago. It all made sense. The book, the chase, Life. But that was then. Something, or should I say someone, changed all that. I think.

I thought I figured out that what I’d been chasing in this so-called life was happiness. I finally learned through numerous failures that I could be content or happy on my own without that special someone. The journey took me through the highest of highs and the lowest of lows without question. But I’d made it and didn’t look back. Until last week.

Last week caused me to delve further into the definition of happiness. So what happened? Yeah, I met someone. Details omitted at this point but suffice it to say, I felt something I hadn’t felt since CBG. That’s a large statement because despite having four ‘relationships’ during the past 4 ½ years, I never had that feeling with any of those women. Sex, yes. True FEELINGS, no.

We can’t control our minds and how we feel. It just happens. The feelings are there or they’re not. And those feelings are there in your mind 24/7. It’s like your brain swells with thoughts of that person. You wonder what they are up to. You picture a smile, a moment, a memory and it’s inescapable. It makes you feel content. It makes you feel fulfilled. Honestly, I forgot what that feeling was like. I didn’t miss it and didn’t think I needed it to be happy. Now I’m not so sure.

I AM happy. I concluded correctly. But now I’m asking myself, am I fulfilled? And is that part of happiness or something separate and distinct? Can we be happy yet unfulfilled? I think so, but I’m obviously not sure. I think it’s like icing on the cake perhaps. I liked that feeling. I definitely felt happIER even if it only lasted a week. When that feeling dissipates, especially not of your own volition, it’s deflating. It leaves you feeling empty and feeling as if that lost feeling needs to be replaced.

So what now? What of the book, the chase, life? Well, as Fagin once sang in Oliver, “I think I’d better think it out again.”

THE STRAW

What was the straw that broke the camel’s back that led me to splendid hibernation? Listen my friends and you shall hear…

I gotta tell ya, this one really baffled me. It all started about a year ago. I found her online. She was attractive, self supportive, a recent divorcee with three kids, and even Jewish. We graduated from emails to phone calls to first date fairly quickly. I honestly didn’t expect much. We had some drinks, light apps, and saw a movie. Well, part of a movie. She couldn’t take the violence of The Departed so we walked out. I suppose that should have been a sign. But she was nice and we got along so it led to a rare second date.

The second date was nice. We actually sat through an entire movie this time, and we had dinner and got to know each other better. During our dinner conversation, it became clear to me that she was not mentally over her divorce yet. She told me she wasn’t ready to have a man come to her house, even just to pick her up. So my take-away here was that at this stage of the game, she wasn’t ready and I needed to give her time to figure herself out.

Fast forward the clock 10 months. I stumbled upon her online profile and decided I’d say hi. She replied back and we agreed we wanted to catch up. Ironically, right after the whole Dallas thing blew up, she called me out of the blue. We had a nice chat. She told me she just had some surgery done and that she wouldn’t be able to go out until the following week. Fair enough. I flew home that Friday and when I landed, I had a voice mail from her. She told me she was feeling a little better and to call her. I called her up and she told me she’d been stuck in her house due to the surgery and she asked me to come over. OK, it was already 9 pm and I needed to go home and change but what the hell. I told her I could make it by 10. She told me she had a secret but wouldn’t tell me until I got there.

She greeted me in her driveway clad in her pajamas. I didn’t hug her because she was sore from the surgery. We went into the house and the first thing she asked me to do was help her reposition the futon from couch to bed so she could be more comfortable. At first we sat up and chatted about her surgery. I think the correct term was umbilical hernia. She had asked me if I was squeamish and I told her that medical grossness wasn’t my strong suite but that I’d made it through Andy’s birth without passing out. And so, she proceeded to show me her scars. Now, in order for her to do that, she had to slide her pj bottoms down off her hips toward her you-know-what. I didn’t see “it” but think about it, there’s not much space between her crotch and her vagina, right? So I saw the scars and I thought sitting there looking at her scars was slightly weird. As if that wasn’t weird enough, she then told me about her little secret.

She got an upgrade. She told me she wanted her boobs back after three pregnancies. So she slid her top up and out so I could see her other scars. I didn’t’ get a full view of her new beauties, but I got an occluded view from the bottom up. She looked good and I told her so. She sat back up and we talked some more, and she asked me a point blank question. Now I at this point, I hadn’t realized I’d lost her but her question to me made me realize her disappointment in me. She asked me where was the guy who wrote the profile online because she thought I was different from that guy. The question threw me as did, I guess, the possible reason for me sitting there in the first place. I guess in her mind, she was looking for the wild and crazy guy who threw caution to the wind. And clearly, I hadn’t showed her that side of me for a myriad of reasons. Let’s take a step back here for a second.

A year ago, this woman was not even interested in dating and couldn’t have a man even drive to her house to pick her up. And now here I am on her bed looking at her private parts. I really thought the whole thing was innocent, but once again I think I misread the entire situation and I guess she was disappointed. We lay down on the bed on our backs next to each other and I proceeded to tell her a few ‘Plantation’ stories of the guy I guess she was looking for. I tried to prove to her that the guy did exist, but that I simply felt this was not the time and place for me to jump on her considering where she was a year ago and what little I knew of her since then.

I was there for around two hours and I told her I’d call her during the week to check up on her and to see if she was read to go out. I called her twice and text’d her twice. No response. And that, ladies and gentlemen, was the proverbial straw. I guess she really wanted me to make some sexual advances to her. Who knew? Obviously, I certainly didn’t have a clue. Sure, you read the story here and think, “How could you miss all those signs?” Believe me, if I felt there was an opportunity, I surely would have taken it. But given our previous past and my respect for her, it honestly never entered my mind. Game over.

She even mentioned to me as she questioned me that she liked ‘bad boy’ types. Man, have I heard that a lot this year. Thing is ladies, you like bad boy types and then you bitch about how shitty men treat you. I’m starting not to feel sorry for you any more. You can’t have your cake and eat it too. Either we’re too nice or too bad. I guess I can’t win either way. I walk away from the dating scene this year as frustrated and confused as ever to the point where I’ve totally lost interest in trying. Next year is going to be a different year. For many reasons. But more on that later.

MOVIN' ON

I’ve played the part of the fool on several occasions. It’s another one of these troubling patterns that seem to follow me around. Who’s to blame? Well, I definitely blame myself for getting into these certain situations in the first place. But, as they say, it takes two to tango. And for some reason, the women I have come into contact with exhibit behaviors and actions that one would think could only happen in Hollywood. You’ve read about some of them. And believe me, there are others I’ve yet to write about. Now I’m not a religious person as you all know, but I do think there is some sort of divine intervention happening that prevents me from meeting these women. It’s as if the man upstairs, whoever he might be, is telling me, “No, no son, she’s not the right one for you.” Here’s the latest.

“Dallas” and I have had many close calls over the past two years. Meaning, we’ve had opportunities to meet in person yet something or someone has gotten in the way. To put it bluntly, time and again, she has chosen to spend her free time with her family rather than me. Sorta makes it hard to meet, doesn’t it? Each time this happens, it drives me away from her and I lose interest because if I’m truly the man of her dreams, then why wouldn’t you choose, at least once, me over family?

Fast forward the calendar. As luck would have it, I’m in her state traveling on business. She lives about 2 ½ hours away by car. We spoke Monday and finally decided this was gonna be it. We were finally gonna meet. Her first intention was to drive after work on a Tuesday night. She wouldn’t arrive until around 2:30 in the morning but it would give us an extra night together. I was scheduled to go back home on Thursday. I did tell her that she didn’t have to kill herself Tuesday night and that she could leave Wednesday after getting some sleep. We spoke Tuesday night after her work and she was indeed tired. An opportunity missed, but I was totally OK with that and after a heavy phone sex session, we agreed she’d arrive Wednesday just about the time I would get out of work. She told me she took Thursday off, too. I decided to move my departure back one day so at least we could spend a little more time together. It was a sure thing.

But as we’ve come to know, there is no sure thing with me. Wednesday, I was excited and thought about our meeting all day. I figured she’d get here around 5 or 6 so I waited for a text letting me know where she was. Around 4, I finally got a text from her. She said she had to drive home because her grandmother (who has cancer) was really sick. Her text said she would be a little late. Now, I previously knew about her grandmother’s condition so this wasn’t a hoax, and yes, I understood. About two hours later, DG sent me another text saying her grandmother wasn’t doing well, but that she was getting ready to leave to see me. I asked when should I expect her and she told me around 9. She called me on her way and she was about half-way there. She stopped to get gas and said she’d call me back.

I didn’t hear from her until 8:45 when I got a text from her. She said she’d been on the phone with her mom and that her grandmother wasn’t doing well. I told her I’d give her lots of hugs when she arrived. She said she was close and judging by the time, I figured another 15 minutes or so. Silence. I sent her a text around 10 asking her how it was going. She replied, “Not good at all.” I didn’t call her for thinking that she was on the phone with her mom. Another 30 minutes went by and I sent her a text asking if she was still coming. When I didn’t hear anything back, I knew the answer. I finally got a text from her at 11:45 saying, “Am at home but am going to sleep for a couple of hours, wake up, and go to you no matter what.”

I don’t know what happened to ‘no matter what,’ but I’d just about given up all hope when she text’d me Thursday afternoon at 3:45. “Hey I know it’s late but will be on my way if you will still have me.” At that point, my enthusiasm was pretty much gone. Yet I told her she could come if she was up to it but she didn’t have to. She was nice enough to tell me she wanted to and felt like shit for not already being there. So I told her to come. It was 4 p.m. Thursday night was a reprise of Wednesday night. I heard nothing. I sent her a text and called her around 8 asking her where she was and if she was coming. At 9, I got a text from her telling me she had been trying to call me. Funny, my phone never rang. Another night of disappointment.

I woke up Friday morning and decided to end whatever it was we’ve been doing on and off for the past two years. I sent her a text telling her how unacceptable her behavior had been and told her not to contact me anymore. She sent an immediate response telling me her phone hadn’t been working, she tried to call, yada yada yada. It was the first time I’d heard from her since that text the previous night. She also claimed her estranged father “almost overdosed on drugs” and that she had to stay and comfort her aunt.

Yeah I know. It all sounds fishy. The grandmother with cancer, the non-working phone, the overdosed father. I know her grandmother is sick. The rest of it, who knows? The bottom line was that she did to me what so many other women had done and she, more than anyone else, should have known better. She threw at me how I hurt her by seeing other women, but I told her I saw those women because she never could find the time to meet me, instead always choosing to spend her free time with her family over me. And here again, she chose her family over me and that was the final straw.

Whether it was her choice or divine intervention that prevented us from meeting, I look at it as meant to be. I look at it as we were just not meant to meet or be together. Like I said, I think someone is telling me, “It’s for your own good.”

Believe me, I’m not getting into this situation again. I’d already told myself that six weeks ago. But I decided to ‘grandfather’ in two people who I’d already been friends with. Neither situation worked out and so I’m officially done with any long distance relationship. In fact, I’m pretty much done period. See my next post.