The Death of The Italian

Death of the Italian2For about a week now, a good portion of my waking hours have felt as though I am doing things against the grain, or involuntarily on the wrong side. Like I have my left shoe on my right foot and I’m being forced to walk that way. It’s not all the time, but a good portion of the time. I hope I haven’t had a small stroke in my sleep or something ….

That could be the reason I use for why The Italian feels like a really bad fit, but the truth fits better.

I had been coming up with reasons not to get together with him, telling myself it was based on still not feeling 100% myself. That was a very very small part of it, but I know had this guy been rocking my world, even not feeling 100% myself wouldn’t have kept me from taking a small amount of time out to see him.

I think in being true to myself, I knew, like wearing the shoe on the wrong foot, that the fit was bad and I didn’t want to really force myself to admit it. Maybe secretly I liked the adoration. I’m not certain. After many invitations, and excuses running thin, Saturday night I allowed him to come over, under the truthful guise of a very laid back evening. I was still not 100% up to par on how I felt, and didn’t want to push things. Watching a movie or something equally sedate seemed like the perfect thing to do. I let him know on all fronts, that I was in a low key energy level, with recovery being tantamount to everything for me. Added in was the fact the weather was cold and rainy, and he only had a few hours before he took off for Vegas, so it seemed like a good testing ground.

Let’s just say, if this had been a test, he would have failed miserably.

He brought over a homemade dish he made, which I found thoughtful. Somewhere along the lines he has learned that the key to a woman’s heart is thru her stomach, because this was the second time he tried to woo me with his fantastic cooking skills (his words, not mine). I had to let him know that I was appreciative, but not the least bit hungry. Besides I had Italian food the night before, and woke up incredibly ill from it that morning. It was a simple dish of Puttanesca, but something, maybe the richness of olives – didn’t agree with me. Adding into that, my appetite still isn’t 100% where it was pre-flu. The dish he brought over included a bit of seafood. I was okay about it, until he opened the container and I got a whiff of the shrimp. My stomach lurched a little. He kept making a big deal out of me having some, even after repeatedly letting him know I still wasn’t feeling it 100%. He literally wouldn’t let it go — bringing it up I swear, every five minutes. Finally he asked if actually, could he take some of it with him for a family member he thought would really like it? I told him to go ahead and take it all. He got kerfluffled at the idea of me not keeping some, and again he opened the container, and I blanched a ghostly white, explaining that honestly seafood sort of wasn’t my thing for right now.

So his pushiness – or insistence — was a big deal, but not necessarily a deal breaker. But his energy levels? That became the real deal breaker. He absolutely could not sit still for a movie, even though he knew ahead of time the invite was for a low key movie night. I polled him on what sort of movie he liked, and found the closest thing I could on HBO. Action. Comedy. Not something I would necessarily like, but hey I was trying. It sort of weirded me out that he made mention more than once that he saw I had a Playboy channel, and then again a whole line-up of porn titles. I explained I didn’t actually have those, that with Direct TV they show every single channel available, even the ones you don’t have access to, but it just felt very — tee-hee, 13 year old boy seeing the word tits and giggling over it.

Back to the energy levels – As we, well technically me – are trying to watch this movie, he is up like a fucking Jack-In-the Box about every two to three minutes, part of that, the fucking seafood dish, or a new drink, or the need to smoke (again, another reason I don’t date smokers). I made mention of the high energy display, and he made a joke about it. Kept sort of grabbing my knee every time he would try and make a point, and by now I’m really not feeling things, so his touch is almost making me flinch. He even sits down at one point and asks, “So, what’s the movie about?” like he just arrived or something.

Irritation levels are rising.

Here is the thing about me. I love to play poker, but I’m horrible about a poker face. Everyone who knows me, knows how easily it is to read everything on me. When I’m truly happy, I radiate. I beam. Equally, when I’m highly irritated, I suspect something in my face pinches up, even if I’m trying to politely paste a smile on my face, to show otherwise. So I knew at one point he had to be reading things. After about the twentieth time of jumping up, it was apparent we were on different levels. I didn’t even make a joke about it anymore. My words were more along the lines of amazement and exasperation. How does one person have so much energy?

He was soon making excuses for having to leave (thankfully, because I was as quickly coming up with excuses that I was going to have to use to get him to go) and made mention that our levels were different that night, and how sorry he was, and how great the first night was (really?). He opened that container of pasta one more time, and seemed insulted when I absolutely insisted, no demanded, that he take it home with him. I had to tell him under no circumstances would I find myself eating it at a later date. Absolute defiance alone would have kept me from having even a bite at this point, but I didn’t go that far.

I’m not certain if he is cognizant enough to realize that this is absolutely going nowhere. He seems the type to put in every effort to see if he can get things to work out. I hope – I really hope, he just lets things sort of blow away in the wind. I don’t like having to actually spell it out for people when it’s not going to work, but if I have to with him, I would. Whether he sees things as friends (I am strongly doubtful of that) or more is irrelevant at this point.

Being able to enjoy a mellow night with movies and light conversation is an absolute requirement on my Must Haves list for friends, or more. His inability on that simply made the decision that much easier.

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