Woe is Him

I went to sleep last night thinking my emotions concerning the Robbie situation were pretty much settled and that I could just be okay with it and move on. But when I woke up this morning…not so much.

I realized I was still angry. And even more than that…feeling kind of spiteful. Spiteful enough to break my word and proceed with sending the girlfriend every single last text message Robbie and I ever exchanged just so she can be crystal clear about how sneaky, deceptive, and depraved her boyfriend really was. To her and to me.

I just felt like being a vengeful bitch, really. I felt like – in case she might be (foolishly) leaning towards forgiving him and staying with him to work things out – completely obliterating any chance of that happening. And I know, even if she’s still dumb enough to give him another chance as things stand now, those texts would probably quickly put an end to any thoughts of that.

I know it and he knows it. That’s why he was practically begging me not to do that yesterday.

I decided to be nice and at least try to talk about it with him first. I texted him to warn him that I was feeling that way since it’s not especially nice to find out after investing so much effort and energy into someone that you’ve been the his fool all along. He offered a weak apology and then whined about me making him feel even worse when he’s already hurting inside and hadn’t slept well all night. Cry me a river.

Then, I guess because I didn’t answer quickly enough and he was paranoid, he called me. To ask me again to please, please, please just leave it alone and not to add more fuel to the fire. He was adamant that they are done…she told him she seriously doubts there’s any hope for them at any point in the future. He declared yesterday the worst day of his life and said he wishes he could fast forward to two months from now when he’ll be over it. Awwwwww.

A tiny, sadistic portion of me kind of savored hearing him wallow in his own misery. And admittedly, it was basically a bit of a power trip. He needs me, in a way. A week and a half ago he was kicking me to the curb like I was nothing, and now he needs me as an ally so that I don’t make him look like even more of a jackass than he already does. A week and a half ago he wanted nothing to do with me, now all of a sudden we can maybe be friends. He even alluded to some kind of possible romantic future between us if he’s “perfectly single” and over everything some months down the road.

Ha! Yeah…because you’re such a catch and I will still want you then. Doubt it. The fact of the matter is, he’s only being (somewhat) amicable with me for the moment because he’s afraid I’ll pull the trigger on sending those texts. He apologized several times for hurting me, but I know he doesn’t really mean it. He only cares because he lost his girlfriend. He’s only sorry because he got caught. I’m sure he’s hurting over his girlfriend, but I don’t for one minute thing he cares anything about my feelings. He’s sorry that I was smart enough to put 2 and 2 together and to get him caught. He’s so transparent. He’s just trying to placate me. Funny how the tables have turned. It amuses me a little to see him sitting on pins and needles now, scared that I’ll let out all his dirt.

But really, there’s very little chance that I’ll do it. It’ll only keep things going, and I really do want to move on. If she gets back with him, that’s on her. He’s already cheated on you 2 confirmed times, even going so far as to break off an engagement…how many times has he done it and NOT been caught? She even said herself that she didn’t think I was the only one. Some relationship.

He texted me a little while after our phone conversation to tell me that he’s going to work on becoming a better person. And that maybe getting caught will help him to change, so he thanks me. Right.

In other news…I attended an open bar holiday party on Wednesday night and thus got the better part of tipsy.

In my less-than-lucid state of mind, I decided to text Dusty. And to call him. He didn’t respond to either attempt, which is just as well. I sent him a text the next day to apologize and promised him he’d never hear from me again. That was Embarrassment #1.

Not satisfied with that, I then drunk dialed Blaze. Ugh. He wasn’t bothered by it, but still….Embarrassment #2.

I also managed to engage in measures that I’m sure cemented my status as an official stalker by partaking in some supremely obvious, and probably annoying, Facebook stalking of a silly crush. So mortifying. That’d be Embarrassment #3.

I apologized to Blaze the next morning, and only half-seriously asked him to bring me a Gatorade. To my surprise, he actually did it. And what do you know? He was actually at my house for the better part of an hour. Wow! We even cuddled some. I’m sure he had ulterior motives and I gave him a little bit of play, but only for old times’ sake. I’m not really trying to fall back down into that rabbit hole.

BUSTED

Well it’s certainly not every day that you have the opportunity to have a civil discussion with the fiancé of the guy who led you to believe for almost 2 months that he was as single as a dollar bill.

And knowing that, I’m pleased (or not really) to be able to announce that today was that day for me.

I always knew something was amiss with Robbie. Deep down, I knew, but I wanted to believe in him. I liked him and I wanted to trust him. But I knew it wasn’t right that it took so long for us to meet when we live a mere 20 minutes away from each other. I knew it wasn’t right that every time we tried to make legitimate plans he’d end up canceling on me at the last minute. I knew it wasn’t right that the 2 times we managed to hang out were in a parking lot. I thought it kind of odd that he wouldn’t Facebook friend me. All the signs were there. I just never tried hard to put 2 and 2 together. Maybe because I didn’t want to. But I knew.

I said as much to him on Halloween when we were supposed to hang out and he canceled on me suddenly. I told him then that it’s starting to seem like he’s not really single, and/or he’s playing games. But he denied it and promised me none of that was the case and I ignored my reservations and went along with it.

The things is, I had Facebook stalked him pretty extensively to the extent that his privacy settings would allow. He had some pictures featuring someone who was obviously a girlfriend, but the latest one I could see was from late last year. Her privacy settings were a little tighter, so I didn’t glean anything from a pit stop at her page, but I didn’t get a sense of any recent activity between them. And when I asked him when the last time he had a girlfriend was to cross check, he said it was back in January. And that they had broken up because he didn’t want to marry her…that she wasn’t “the one.” It really did seem legit.

But something about our falling out last week just struck me as odd. His behavior was just way out of whack with the situation at hand. As I’ve said, I KNOW when I’m acting like a psycho. I like to think I’m not actually psychotic, but I do have my moments. And though I did eventually start calling and texting him like a maniac in the spirit of impishness, I’m quite sure that nothing I did or said to him immediately in the aftermath of being stood up warranted him attempting to block me via every possible medium of contact. So it eventually occurred to me that maybe he was blocking me not because he really thought I was a psycho, but because he thought I would get him in trouble. Because he’s not actually single.

It was just a hunch, but I needed to see if I was right. And I certainly couldn’t ask him…he didn’t want to hear from me. So I went straight to the source.

I really wasn’t trying to cause trouble. I didn’t even want to talk to her initially. I friend requested her on Facebook and was hoping she’d be one of those indiscriminate people who add everyone without a care in the world. Then I was sure I’d be able to see enough on her page to either prove or disprove my suspicions and from there I’d move on with my life. I probably would’ve confronted him about it, but I wasn’t planning on ever talking to her at all.

But she didn’t accept my request. Understandable, because she doesn’t know who the hell I am. So at that point I just said Screw it and made contact. And I was really, really, really hoping I was wrong…

But unfortunately, I was right.

To be entirely accurate, she’s not actually his fiancé at the moment, but she was at one point in time. Apparently he had asked her to marry him late last year but then got “cold feet” and broke it off. And immediately started dating someone else. They started talking again in July and dating again a couple of months later (September, I guess) and were having recent discussions about moving back in together.

He and I matched on Tinder in the last week of September, and with the exception of about a 10-day period, had been talking on the daily up until last week. Soooooooo….

That explained so much. A lot of things made sense suddenly. Like all the aforementioned red flags.

She was actually pretty nice, given the situation. Females have a tendency to be more hostile to the “other woman” than to their actual significant other who did the cheating. But the discussion was pretty amicable, given that I was essentially kind of ruining her life.

I actually started feeling bad for her, and thinking that I might’ve made the wrong move. I was so focused on sating my own curiosity that I didn’t really think much about the how things would turn out if I was right and I had to end up breaking it to a girl that her boyfriend has been cheating on her. And yet there I was smack dab in the middle of that very conversation, completely unprepared for it.

At the end of the day, Robbie is nobody to me. I liked him, I cared about him to a certain extent, but I had not a lot of time or emotion vested in him at this stage (thank God!). When all is said and done I can walk away pretty easily (as I pretty much had to last week) and just chalk it up to another horrid dating experience on the road to meeting my Prince Charming. But Robbie is the love of this girl’s life. The guy she had hopes on marrying, obviously. I saw pictures of them together as far back as 2011, so she had several years of emotions and hopes and dreams vested in this guy. And I was bursting her bubble.

Even still, I wasn’t exactly the happiest camper myself. And I took to texting Robbie to let him know I’d gotten in touch with his girlfriend. He was not happy about that, of course. When he started ignoring my texts, I took to calling him. I left him a message to ask who the psycho in this situation really is…the girl who sent a few texts out of hurt feelings after she got stood up? Or the boy who had been leading her on for 2 months and masquerading as a single man when he actually wasn’t? Hmm…

Surprisingly, he called me back A) To tell me not to call him anymore (but you just called me, jackass), and B) To yell at me about contacting his girlfriend. Apparently if I wanted to know the truth, I was supposed to have asked him. It seems that he forgot that he told me he didn’t want to hear from me until further notice. So exactly when was I supposed to ask him? And why exactly would he think I’d give a damn about sparing his relationship after the way he treated me? Did he actually think I was feeling any sort of loyalty to him after that critically acclaimed Douchebag of the Century performance?

He seems to have the idea that I did this purposely…like I woke up this morning with the grand plan to ruin his relationship. Like I was happy I did it. And I can see how it might seem like that, but my primary intention really wasn’t to cause any trouble. I just wanted to know the truth. And I didn’t think I’d get it from him. And again, we weren’t on speaking terms. So I got it the best way I knew how. I just wanted to know. Needless to say, he was not very happy with me. While the conversation did progress into something more calm and civil eventually, it didn’t start out that way. And when he rushed me off the phone because he had to get back to work, I thought that’d be the end of it…

Only he called me back eventually because he knew I was still talking to the girlfriend. We were still actively messaging on Facebook; she was asking me questions, obviously based on stuff he was saying, and I was answering them. And I was giving details. He called me back basically to beg me not to talk to her anymore because I was just making things worse. It wasn’t so much that I wanted to do that, but essentially I just felt the need to kind of defend my own honor.

He made it clear that he’s going to try to salvage his relationship. So I already knew that what he was going to try to do is downplay our situation to try to save his own ass. He already tried to convince ME that we had only been texting for a “couple of weeks.” Really? Because I have record of our first texts dating back to September 28th.

So if he’s already trying to rewrite history with me, when I obviously know the truth because I was privy to it…I can’t imagine what in the world he’s telling her. So when she asked for clarification about certain things, I was more than happy to provide it.

Admittedly, I did start feeling kind of bad for Robbie. He was a man down, and I was kicking him. So in the end, after several bouts of him imploring me to end contact with her, I agreed to. It was funny to see him being nice to me now that he wanted something from me whereas a week and a half ago it probably wouldn’t have mattered to him if I suddenly dropped dead. Oh, but now that you got caught cheating and need me to lay off of painting the most vivid of portraits for your girlfriend/fiancé/whatever-she-is of just how much of a sorry boyfriend you really are, you want to be nice to me. Funny how that works.

So I left it alone. She hasn’t said anything else to me and I haven’t said anything to her. There’s really not much else to be said, I guess.

As it turns out, Robbie hadn’t really blocked my number after all. I don’t know why he acted like he did, but whatever. I sent him a text a couple of hours ago to apologize once again. He response: “Ok.” Aw, poor baby.

She’ll probably take him back. That’s on her. Quite frankly, if it were me, the cheating would be an issue of course, but I’d probably be able to forgive that. I’m not convinced that sexual monogamy is really in any man’s nature. However, I’d be much more disturbed by the fact that my boyfriend/once-fiancé denied my existence, period. It’s one thing to want something on the side and to be honest about your situation, there’s something more sinister about wanting something on the side and going around acting single when you’re not. Denying your girlfriend exists…very disrespectful. Basically like living a double life. It has to be a bit humiliating and painful to hear from some strange girl on Facebook that your boyfriend not only cheated on you, but acted as if you didn’t exist. That’s, like, a much deeper level of disrespect than the cheating itself.

But that’s just me. If that’s what she wants to put up with, I really do wish her all the best. But with this nonsense on top of their debacle of an engagement, if she possesses any intelligence or dignity at all, she’ll run. FAST.

Hi and Bye

Last Sunday, in the wake of the cataclysmic conclusion of whatever it was that me and Robbie had going on, naturally (or not) I took to Tinder for solace.

I surprised myself by being in the mood for it. I wasn’t, like, devastated over Robbie or anything because there wasn’t much to be devastated over. We’d hadn’t spent any significant time together or had sex or really any kind of real attachment whatsoever besides a litany of texts. Even still, there’s a certain feeling of withdrawal when you find yourself suddenly on the outs with someone you were used to talking to on a daily basis. There’s kind of a jolt to the system, like coming to a sudden stop in a speeding car. So I was feeling a little sour over it, and usually when I’m feeling that way about a guy it’s next to impossible for me to even think about trying to focus on anybody else.

So I was surprised that I found myself trolling Tinder. And that I wasn’t comparing everyone to Robbie out of wistfulness like I usually do after any romantic failure. That’s usually why it’s so hard for me to try to date immediately afterward. But this time it really wasn’t much of an issue. I guess that just goes to show that maybe I didn’t like Robbie as much as I thought I did.

During my Tinder travels I ended up swiping right on a cute blond guy whom I shall affectionately refer to as Dusty. And I’m usually not into blonds. I tend to have a weakness specifically for dark-haired guys with blue eyes. But hair color notwithstanding, I thought Dusty was pretty attractive. And as luck would have it, he thought the same of me because he swiped right eventually too and from there we got to talking.

He was engaging, witty, funny, and we clicked through effortless conversation. It wasn’t too long before he gave me his phone number and we progressed to texting. When we were ready to call it a night, we agreed to speak the next day.

Only…when I heard from him the next evening he was texting to tell me that he doesn’t think it’s a good idea if we talk any further. He was still getting over a recent breakup and hadn’t realized he was still harboring feelings about it until I asked him the night before if he was actually single. He felt that he should spend some time alone. That was a blower, but what can you do? At least he bothered to text me at all to explain.

I’m not quite sure why – maybe because I didn’t know him well and didn’t think I’d be speaking to him after that night anyway and just wanted to vent – but I asked him if I could talk to him about the Robbie situation really quick before we parted ways for good. (I had mentioned it during our initial conversation, but didn’t get into details.) He agreed, and I relayed the gist of that situation to him. He actively listened and provided insightful feedback, and from there, before I knew it, we had drifted back into normal conversation again. He kind of alluded to maybe having jumped the gun a bit by trying to cut things off so early, but I wasn’t confident that I’d hear from him after that night even though he said we’d talk the next day.

But I did. Throughout Tuesday evening it was more of the same. And I was really liking him. He seemed like a sweetheart. A genuinely nice guy. And smart. With an established, interesting career, a stable background…all the good stuff. Things seemed to be going just swimmingly.

He asked me out on Wednesday afternoon. Only he wanted to go out the next night and I was going to be working. I told him I was free that night, but he had an exercise class late into the evening and so wasn’t able to meet up until around 10 PM. So we planned for 10 initially, but in the end he decided to skip the class so he could come out earlier.

There was a certain neighborhood of restaurants he wanted to go to not far from me (he lives about an hour away). He said he’d prefer to go the traditional route of picking me up, but under the circumstances he was fine with just meeting there. As a compromise (and because parking sucks in the restaurant area anyway), I parked my car in the vicinity of a strip of bars I frequent that is a few miles away and directed him to meet me there so we could drive to the restaurant together.

What a gentleman he was. When he saw me coming he immediately hopped out and walked me over to the passenger side of his truck to open my door for me. And he was just as adorable in person as he was in his pictures. Very tall – 6″3″ – which I just love because I’m a tall girl myself and I loves me my heels. Solidly built. Alluringly scented. I was very pleased.

Dinner was excellent. We ate at a great Italian restaurant that I knew was a good bet from eating there a couple of times in the past. There was no initial period of shyness or awkwardness that there can sometimes be on a first date. I immediately felt comfortable with him and the conversation and laughter came just as easily in person as it had through texting. The chemistry was palpable after a while. I was really enjoying myself.

We weren’t yet ready to call it a night after dinner, so we drove back over to where my car was and had a couple of drinks at one of my go-to spots there. I’d had 2 glasses of wine at dinner already, so after my second vodka & soda at the bar, I figured it was time to call it a night. Never a good look to get hammered on a first date.

As we were wrapping things up he told me he wanted to kiss me but knew it would be kind of awkward in the middle of a bar. Once we got outside he pulled me over to him and planted a kiss on me. And it was a good one. And I wanted more. But I wasn’t about to make out with him in the middle of the street, so we hopped back in his truck and I directed him to a waterfront parking area just moments away.

We spent maybe a half hour in his truck looking at the water. And talking. And kissing. More kissing than talking. We couldn’t get enough of one another. I could’ve made out with him for hours, but in the spirit of being a good girl, I managed to pull myself away before things got too carried away. He drove me back to my car, walked me to it, and kissed me goodnight. I went to bed that night with a smile on my face.

The next day he texted me to tell me good morning, and we talked somewhat throughout the day but not too extensively. I was working that night and he was feeling kind of ill and taking medication that made him drowsy, so I wasn’t too pressed about not getting to talk much. I figured at some point we’d make plans to get together again and I was looking forward to it. I felt good about him and was prepared to be patient.

And there I was on Friday, in the middle of writing about Robbie and all set to eventually expound on the charms and promise of Dusty at some point…

And then I got the fatal texts.

The gist of it was that he’s still not over his ex-girlfriend. He hates to hurt me in any way, but he’s not ready to date. He wants to take some time for himself and be alone. I tried reminding him that there are actually intermediate stages to romance…you now, a middle ground between going on a first date and getting married. Like…talking. Getting to know one another. Being friends. Things of that nature.

But he said it’s “all or nothing” for him and it’s just the way he’s wired. Hmph.

I was taken aback, of course. And at the end of the day, his explanation essentially boiled down to the old tried and true “It’s not you, it’s me.” Everyone knows that an explanation like that is complete BS 95% of the time. What it usually means is that it is in fact actually YOU, but he or she doesn’t want to hurt your feelings. So it was difficult to hear something like that in so many words and not feel like I failed to live up to his standards in some unknown way when I was thinking this had so much potential.

He reminded me that he had almost cut things off after our very first conversation, thus going to show that he was obviously having reservations before we even met. True enough. That’s the only reason that I managed to believe in what he said. It really wasn’t me. It was in fact him.

Even still…really? After we had such a great time together? Our sizzling chemistry? Why’d you bother making out with me then? “Because you’re beautiful and I was attracted to you.” Right.

Part of me was hoping that some way, somehow, he’d change his mind once he could see how bummed I was over it. But it was all for naught…his mind was clearly all made up. He said he’s lost right now, and possibly still in love with his ex-girlfriend. But he wasn’t sure if he was really still in love with her still or just lonely. Either way, he needed to step away and be alone to figure things out.

He certainly wasn’t kissing me like he was in love with someone else. But whatever.

He remarked several times on how great and wonderful and amazing I was, and wanted me to be absolutely certain that this had nothing to do with me. But how could I possibly think that it didn’t? If I’m so amazing, why would you let me slip away? Those two events are mutually exclusive events in my head.

At least that’s how I view things. But men and women are wired differently, I realize. I heard something said once along the lines of how settling down for men is a mostly function of WHEN, whereas for women it’s mostly a function of WHO. Meaning: A man is only going to settle down when he has it in his head that he’s ready to, and who he’s with at the time might not necessarily be that critical of a factor. He just might let “the one” get away and then 6 months later marry someone questionable just because that’s who he happened to be with at the time that he decided it was time to settle. Women, on the other hand, are pretty much ready to settle whenever they come across a person they can see themselves setting with. Period. The end.

I’ve always believed there was some truth to that, and with that in mind, I knew that Dusty was a lost cause at this point in time. It really wasn’t me…he’s just not ready to date and it is what it is.

So…that sucks