I’m starting to notice a pattern in which it seems to always come to pass that as soon as I deem a guy’s involvement in my life worth writing about, things pretty much immediately take a turn for the worse. Ancient blogger’s curse, maybe? Hmm…
What I find especially amusing is that I started this entry with only one account of an ill-fated romance to relay. And just like that, in the midst of writing about that one, another potential romance met its untimely demise. I’m really on a roll this week.
Firstly, there was Robbie, whose saga came to a disastrous end last Sunday.
We ended up meeting in person on the night of November 12th. And when I say we met…that was it. It wasn’t anything even remotely approaching a date. We met in a dark parking at 10:00 at night. Certainly not the most ideal way to meet someone in person for the first time, but I took what I could get.
It was kind of like a “now or never” moment in my mind. That coming Saturday I was headed off with a group of friends to a Caribbean vacation for 7 nights. So it seemed to me that, as I’d be out of the country and thus only able to maintain limited contact with him, it would most likely be a defining point in whatever it was we had brewing. As it stood up until that night, we hadn’t met in person yet, so even if we had been interacting for quite a while now in a pseudo-dating capacity, it wasn’t quite real yet. And without it being real, in the face of irregular contact during my week abroad, the possibility existed in my mind that it could just disappear into thin air. Our only connection thus far had been based solely on texts and pictures. If you take the majority of that away but don’t have the memory of the live person in the flesh to hold on to, then you don’t have much left. So I found it kind of crucial that we meet before then.
And I got my wish. There we were, face-to-face at last. He was exactly what I expected, and I was satisfied. It seemed like he was as well. We sat, we talked, we fooled around some. He started texting me before I even made it home to sing my praises, so I figured that was a good sign. This guy must like me. And it was official: I liked him as well. And now I could stop feeling stupid about it because we’d actually met. My feelings had been validated.
Before we parted ways that night, he said we could get breakfast or something Friday morning before he left town for a hockey event. But that never came to pass due to him waking up too late. I was really looking forward to seeing him again before I left for my trip, but no worries…I just knew that we’d keep in touch the best we could while I was away and that we’d continue where we left off when I got back.
Only things didn’t quite turn out that way. I mean, why would they? As long as my love life remains a complete calamity, at least I know all is right in the world.
So as to avoid paying $10.00 a text under exorbitant international roaming rates, I resorted to messaging him on Facebook. He was responsive initially but then became less so as time went on. And something about being able to see through Facebook that your messages were read at a certain time makes the fact that you have no reply seem especially egregious as opposed to when this happens during regular texting. By the middle of the week when things still weren’t improving, I kind of called him out on it. He told me to “stop being weird,” that he’d been sick and busy at work. Mmmkay. I mean….I’m thousands of miles away with several good friends of mine on a vacation that had been planned for a year, waking up every day in a Jamaican tropical paradise where my only worries are which bikini I’m going to put on for breakfast and which drink I’m going to start with once I hit the pool immediately following.
And somehow I still managed to keep in touch with him. But okay…you’re busy and sick. Got it.
But no worries. I figured we’d sort everything out once I got back and were able to talk normally again. Only even after I returned I was still sensing some distance.
When all was said and done the bottom line ended up being that he didn’t like how I had “assumed we were like bf and gf,” and that he had been worried because he “didn’t want a committed relationship right now.” Yep…here we go.
Firstly, I definitely never “assumed” we were in a relationship. My demeanor toward him hadn’t changed a bit, even since meeting him in person. The way I acted toward him was in the spirit of the vibe we were mutually complicit in creating with other over the past month or so. He had always presented himself as someone who was interested in a dating scenario with me. He was the one always calling me “babe” and remarking on how good of a girlfriend I’d be and how he hoped he’d be able to trust me since I work with a lot of men. He even made a comment a while back as to how cute our babies would be. So…really, dude? I was halfway tempted to inform him that if I thought we were so much in a relationship, I wouldn’t have done what I did with a certain guy I met while on vacation, but I thought that’d be tacky.
In any case, I was starting to sense that the writing was on the wall with him. I’m no fool. He was so gung-ho before we met and then even a little bit afterward…but now he was trying to back off. I guess it was getting a little TOO real for him. It happens. I emphasized that I definitely did not think we were boyfriend/girlfriend, nor was I trying to rush anything. He seemed fine with that.
We had another parking lot rendezvous on Thanksgiving night. Yippee. He got off work late and had to be back early the next morning and yadda, yadda, yadda. I just wanted to see him, so I let it go again. But I was starting to think something was amiss here that this guy seems to always want to meet me in parking lots as opposed to…anywhere else. A restaurant. His house. Something. Are we trying to date or are we completing a drug transaction here? He knew I wasn’t especially pleased with these parking lot meets, so he tried to appease me by saying we could hang out at his house the next night.
We talked here and there throughout the day on Friday. He confirmed that we were hanging out that night at one point. I assumed I’d be hearing from him someone around 6 p.m. when he got off work. 6:00 came and went and I heard nothing. I gave it until shortly before 7 to ask what time we were hanging. I knew I wouldn’t be seeing him that night when he replied back with some BS excuse about how he’ll let me know because he had to go help out a friend first. Uh…right.
And what do ya know? Never heard anything back from him. I gave it almost 2 hours before I inquired as to what the deal was, and got no response. Needless to say, I was pretty pissed. I ended up going out with Carly to blow off some steam. After a couple of doses of alcohol I sent a series of texts to Robbie to let him know what I thought of his poor behavior and this situation.
When he hadn’t answered by the next morning, I was even more pissed, so I followed up by telling him what a dick he is. He wrote back all pissy about me “blowing up his phone,” told me he’d had “something to take care of,” and then iced the cake by threatening to block my number because I’m a “stage 5 clinger.”
Wow…really? I wasn’t sure where all that was coming from. I was disconcerted by the fact that he actually threatened to block my number simply because I sent him a series of justified angry texts after he STOOD ME UP the night before. He was being a dick and it kind of hurt my feelings, but I decided to leave it alone for the rest of the day to let things cool down.
I gave it until Sunday afternoon before trying to talk to him to smooth things over. He didn’t answer immediately and I wasn’t concerned…figured maybe he was at work or whatever. But after a couple of hours I started to get a feeling. I don’t know what possessed me to check Facebook, but I did. I pulled up our vacation message thread and sure enough, his name was blacked out. He had blocked me on Facebook. I hadn’t even talked to him through there since I got back. No need to. But there I was…blocked. So it wasn’t hard to draw the conclusion from there that he had obviously gone ahead and blocked me from texting him as well.
I was pretty livid. Who the eff does that? You’ve talked to me daily for almost 2 months now. You acted so into me. We seemed to click. We’ve met. We’ve been mildly intimate. I had just seen you on effing Thanksgiving night…and you really freaking blocked me?! Like, actually blocked my phone number? I’ve literally never in my life had anyone do that. And I’ve been a lot more angry and a lot more hysterical and have said way more willfully vicious, vile, outrageous, nasty things to people. So I know when I’m going overboard and probably deserve to be blocked, and I’m pretty sure nothing I had said or done up to that point with Robbie had risen to that occasion. Given the events of Friday night – how vehemently I despise when people break their word and play games with my time – I actually went pretty easy on him.
No worries. I started texting him from another number to ask if he really had the gall to block me. He was angry for some reason and told me to leave him alone and to stop texting him. Called me a psycho. Cursed at me. It was kind of weird. Really? I’m the psycho? You blocked my number off a whim like it was nothing after we had just fooled around in your car not even 48 hours before. But I’m the psycho. Right.
At this point I started to act like a psycho. Oh well. The horse is already out of the barn, right? I was hurt and annoyed and kind of in a state a shock that this guy who I had been talking to for 2 months and had started to believe in had suddenly morphed into such a douchebag of the highest order. So I texted and called just to piss him off even more. Since he was being a first class dick and getting on my nerves, I decided to annoy him in return and let him know how I felt about it. I can be childish like that sometimes, but really, I just thought the way he was acting and what he was doing in trying to erase me from his life as if I never existed was completely unacceptable. Men do things like this and then can’t seem to ever connect their own callous behavior with a woman’s “psycho” reaction. That puzzles me.
I wore him down eventually. In the dozen or so times I called, he went from not answering at all to picking up and hanging up, to picking up, uttering an insult and hanging up, and then finally we managed to have a conversation. During which he told me that I was pissing him off because he was at work and couldn’t concentrate, that he just needs me to stop calling and texting when he asks me to, he wants to “date around,” that he didn’t want to talk to me for “a while,” and that he might hit me up again eventually but for now I’m not to contact him unless he contacts me first. Works for me.
I was pretty bummed for the rest of the day that someone who I had started to trust could suddenly do such a 180 on me, but I’m pretty much over it at this point. I haven’t tried to contact him since and frankly don’t care if I ever hear from him ever again or not. He’s calling me the psycho, but his behavior in those last days was extremely bizarre.
If I were a betting woman, I’d charge his sudden turn for the worse to any one of, or combination of, the following factors:
1. He’s a dick and was only screwing with me all along.
2. He’s had a girlfriend the whole time (which explains why it took us so long to meet even though we live 20 minutes away from each other, and why we only met in parking lots at weird times).
3. He started talking to someone else he likes better.