I considered taking a break from the character reveals and talk more about how much I feel online dating has changed since my last go around, but honestly this story is too whacked out not to run with while I have the steam.
At this juncture, I’ve had roughly four first dates, and two short stints in something that vaguely resembled the skeletal beginnings of a relationship that each lasted a few months. I’ve decided that I firmly want to date. It didn’t mean I wasn’t open to finding “Him”. “The One”. I just didn’t want it to happen tomorrow. I wanted to sample the wares so to speak, without truly sampling the wares, if you catch my drift. 😉
Anyway, this means I was talking with a few men. I had a first successful so-to-speak first date (The Partridge) where it didn’t end in him wanting to put me in a box, or thinking he fell in love, or me finding out his porn predilection, or that he wasn’t who he said he was. But it also didn’t end in an immediate follow-up second date, so I sort of considered it a win-win. Not so bad I was blocking him, but not so good I was deleting my online profile either.
I was already finding that what might look good today could simply vanish by tomorrow. A friend of mine has a daughter who says, “Don’t get attached to the outcome” and never did I hear a phrase that was more aptly fitting for online dating. Don’t start a conversation and hope for ANYTHING, because it can be gone without a wrong word even whispered. It’s just how the game is played. You can’t see the background players, so it’s easy to assume you’re the lead – but the reality you might be the third string, and by the time you get called off the bench, the game is already over with.
It was a little disappointing when I first learned that.
Two of the individuals I was talking with, with a tad more frequency had possibility. One was The Scotsman who actually won me over simply by BEING a Scotsman. He also made me laugh and he was an outrageous flirt. He had a Peter Lawford look about him (which clearly shows my age – this is someone of my mother’s generation), BUT #1 I could tell his picture (he only had the one) was OLD (and we know how that one went after Billy the Kidd) and #2. Pinning him down to call me made me eventually consider the fact I might be being catfished by a 12 year old. So off I scooted him, relegating him to the dating void. I was still texting here and there with The Partridge, but alas nothing firm on a second date had developed.
The other individual I was speaking with was The Hawaiian. Our conversations seemed sporadic as well – maybe days in between at times. But I’ve grown to realize that a lot of people have lives outside of these dating forums and don’t always check back in quickly. For me, I’ve always been a check into Facebook daily kinda gal, out of habit more than anything, so messages would frequently pop-up there. At one point The Hawaiian and I started to pick up the pace and the chatting became frequent enough that he finally asked for my number. He was quirky, and often talked through emoji’s, but he nearly always made me laugh.
I honestly prefer texting to the apps, because I can immediately get the messages. While my settings for FB are set up to alert me, they don’t always. Direct messaging works much easier. At the same time, I don’t want a whole litany of men with my number. I’m still old school in the sense of “what can they do with that information?” – I’ve realized that’s what blocking is all about. In days of yore, that wasn’t a possibility, I think I tend to forget this. So if I feel there is a decent rapport and the convo doesn’t feel one-sided then I’m usually game to giving my number out.
So when The Hawaiian asked for my number, it was easy for me to reply yes. He seemed to check off the immediate criteria. Recent pics? Check. Makes me laugh? Check. Intelligent conversation? Check. No Kids at home? Check. Attractive in a very quirky and nerdy way? Triple Check. He got bonus points for being local, which is anything within 20 minutes and no freeway as well as being an animal lover and not overly (or at all) political. We slid into text conversation with just as much ease as we did through the App. The only caveat was his constant want to Facetime. I get it, let’s make sure you are really who you say you are, but there is nothing less comfortable to me than holding a camera at just the right angle so I don’t appear like I have three chins, or where the lighting makes me look ghoulish. Love Bomb used to LOVE Facetiming, but after a little bit of dating him, I was comfortable at any time and any lighting with him, because he truly made me feel like the prettiest princess, no matter how I looked. This on the other hand was still new and impressionable. But I did it. In fact the first time I think I was completely make-up free and had my hair up, but what the hell. If you’ll like me at my worst, you’ll love me at my best.
So we started to talk here and there, sometimes through Facetime, and sometimes through text. Enough that I picked up on his slight accent (Hawaiian), and the fact that there was something weird, in a wonderful way about him. It was a no brainer when without a ton of warning he asked if I wanted to meet him for a drink. I don’t usually head out on Sunday nights and I was deciding for the THIRD time to give California Casual in outfits a try. I know, again with that? Who the fuck was I becoming? It worked this time. I paired a form fitting casual dress with some Vans slip-ons and VOILA. Better than the shorts and a tee. Says “Cute” without saying “I tried SO hard!”. And I felt confident.
I got there first (boo) but he wasn’t too far after me. When he slid up next to me at the bar, there was an absolute sense of immediate comfort. My attraction to him was electric and I was pretty sure he felt the same. He didn’t fit any sort of box, it was just completely organic. I felt like I had known him for much longer than the amount of time we had been talking. Even the bartender later noted he thought we had been going out for a while. None of that first date angst. He still made me laugh, and I found him just as interesting and charming in person. Plus he would look at me in this way that just made me grin. I nursed a couple of drinks (I was driving), trying to will the time to last longer, but unfortunately it was a Sunday night which equates to school night, so I was limited. He walked me to my car, and the kiss was perfect.
Conversations and texts just grew from that moment. I texted when I got home, and he called. We talked even longer, never running out of conversation. The next day it continued and he invited me over to his house for that night.
I’d like to take a sidenote here and say I never do stupid things on first dates, like invite them back to my house when I barely know them, or in this case accept an invite to an almost virtual strangers house – but that’s not the case. I preach it. But I don’t always practice it. With The Hawaiian there was this immediate sense of trust, and my only hesitancy was how crazy it was that we would see each other two days in a row. So of course I accepted the invite.
The night was slightly awkward – but there is a theory I’ve come up with; the more I am interested in someone, the more nervous I become around them. Interestingly enough, the way I see it is I usually screw those dates up with awkwardness. I can’t take a compliment to save my life, I become about as fascinating as a houseplant. I imagine myself responding with wide eyes and grunts. Of course it’s not as bad as that, but my social anxiety does take control in situations like that. This sort of started out that way. But The Hawaiian was both playful, and patient. He pushed where it was needed and pulled back where that was needed too. Perfect balance. We watched football and teased each other, and then made out like 16 year-olds on his couch. It was perfect.
The perfection continued for five nights in a row. I’d head straight to his house after work each night. Most nights we wouldn’t even have dinner. Music, talking, some TV (not my strong suit), and videos through his phone that he played on TV. We watched a documentary that made him cry, and my heart grew ten times. His roommates were out of town, and he had a couple of adorable dogs so meeting at my place didn’t work. We joked how we’d put in 30 hours of dating in the first week. The first four nights I’d head back to my place, each night later than the last. The last night before his roommates came back I slept over.
The talking was honestly my … second favorite thing we did. 😉 He was so sweet and so vulnerable. I don’t know – to talk about it in too much more detail feels invasive at this point. But I had fallen very fast and very hard for him. We joked how on Monday I was so reserved and cautious with him, and by Thursday I was staying the night. That’s how quickly this morphed. He was that guy I just wanted to run away to a tropical island and live in a hut with. The last night together before his roommates came home he asked me so sweetly and so hesitantly if I wanted to make things exclusive, and I felt like a teenager, being asked if I wanted to go steady. I didn’t even have to think about this – I was crazy about him, and quietly but firmly told him yes. He responded back with surprise. I did? Was I sure? He seemed to happy. I decided to delete my online dating profile that day. HE was what I wanted and yes the circumstances were crazy fast, but not like they were with Love Bomb.
And then some sort of freaky distorted reality hit. It started off slow. But my instincts were on high alert. I had dealt day in and day out with the same consistent behaviour and I felt this slight shift. Like a low earthquake, where the Teutonic plates shift ever so slightly. I put it down to stress from work, and stress with the roommates. But it was felt. He finally came over to my place, and met my BFF. But even that was weird. He got there, and the affectionate delightful sweet guy was replaced with this stressed out mess. I leaned in to kiss him hello while I walked him in from the parking lot, trying to diffuse this ball of stress and he pulled back. I was hurt and angry but had to put on a game face for my friend. Of course when he met her he was all charm, but the moment he left the room I whispered to her what happened. The rest of the night went pretty good. He was very charming with her, but with me, I felt like I was on a small boat on rocky waters. One moment he might seem very much like the man I knew and the next I felt he was a stranger. After we walked her home we talked. He apologized. I hate to argue so I let it go. We went to bed and things seemed great once again.
He had to work that morning and I got up with him while he was getting ready. He asked me if I could do and get him his phone from the bedroom and when I picked it up, all of his alerts lit up like they do on an iPhone. The first couple I saw were “So-and-So has messaged you from Facebook Dating”. More than one. My heart and stomach took turns switching places. The child in me whimpered that he had asked me to be his girlfriend, but he wasn’t being my boyfriend? I felt stupid. I felt sick. This is what you get for moving at warp speed the Cynic in me mocked. I didn’t have time to react, I just handed him the phone. He saw the alerts and said nothing. Did nothing. My demeanor immediately changed and he asked if everything was okay as he left. I murmured that I was just tired as I walked him out.
When he left I broke down. Little girl tears flowed. I immediately called my friend and told her what happened. She agreed that it was pretty messed up that he was talking out his ass about exclusivity on one end, and then keeping his options open. Then I do what I do best. Or worst. I texted him.
I hate confrontation. I’ve learned this. I will confront, but when I do I usually end up doing it like a Honey Badger. Or rabid chihuahua. So most of the time I will take a more passive aggressive approach and text. The thing is, the texts almost always get me in worse trouble than the straight confrontation would have. As much as I love to write, tone is completely lost in text. I honestly don’t even remember what all I said to him, but I was pretty upfront with the details. Saw his phone, saw he was still on FB Dating, and damn what a fool I felt like. I was out.
And at that point I learned how The Hawaiian reacts. Stage one is explosive defensiveness. He blew at me. Told me his phone was all sorts of wonky, and that I witnessed how messed up it was when I was at his house earlier that week. (I did, and it was). Reminded me that sometimes he gets repeat and old text alerts from his family from months, even years ago. How could I not just ask? Honestly by the time he was done, I was starting to think — is it me? Did I blow this? (stay with me here) – then we see the calm after the storm. He starts to retreat with the anger. The defense becomes more gentle. Last is the sweetheart that I had fallen for, and by the end of it all, I am defending him in my own mind.
Anyone who has been involved with someone with anger or mental issues, or abuse knows this cycle. But here I was, a mature evolved woman who has dated them all, and I was still falling for it; hook line and sinker. He came back over that night and we talked and swam and laughed and made up, and there it was. The start of the rollercoaster pattern of highs and lows. I was high on his highs and low on his lows.
The next couple of weeks were a cacophony of ups and downs. A pattern started to emerge where he was chatty during the day (work days only) and would go nearly radio silent in the evenings. Although we hadn’t dated for very long, as I stated early we had spent a LOT of time together, so it was evident something was going on. When I tried to bring it up, I’d get either gaslighted, or the stages I already mentioned. It didn’t take long for me to realize this just wasn’t going to happen between us.
I know the obvious thing to do was to just block him. Walk away. But I’m a Cancer; a Crab. Once we get our emotional pinchers in on you, we stay attached. That’s great when you’re in something healthy, because I’ll go to the ends of the earth. But when it’s bad? It’s not easy to extract those claws. I’ve had friendships that stayed beyond their expiration dates because of this. And yes, even some relationships
I reinstated my online profile and while he and I still texted, daily during the week and nearly nothing on the weekends it was very very superficial. He knew it. He knew that I knew. But we didn’t talk about it, because I knew I wasn’t going to get answers. I was never going to get what I wanted from him, and going to this empty well for sustenance was insanity. I was saddened that the guy I spent that wonderful week with was gone, and I didn’t have my answers. Some suggested he was still with an ex (his living situation was a little on the cryptic side, but a story for another time). That made the most sense. He had no freedoms in the evening because he was with her. Could be. Don’t know exactly how he got away for a few nights to spend with me. Others thought it might have been mental illness. Bi-polar behavior. His excuses were all that I knew how busy he was doing this and that.
I just know that the man I spent the week with made the time, and this new version couldn’t even call.
A few weeks had passed. I was still getting nearly daily texts, of at least a hello from him. I’d respond with a thumbs up, or a simple hello. I couldn’t let go of him, but I also wasn’t going to sit in limbo and live this life — offering of crumbs on a daily basis. I was dating others at this point. Nothing matched the intensity he and I had, but that was a good thing wasn’t it? Then I got a phone call from him. He wanted to talk, was I busy that night? Could he come over? I was free, and sure he could come over. I tried not to feel the same excitement I used to. I told myself this was just a friend coming over. I went over to my BFF’s to see if she had some men’s clothing he could borrow so that he wasn’t in scrubs after work. (She did). I purposely did nothing outside of showering. No primping with make up, or finding the perfect cute outfit. Just me.
He showed up and it was like having a good friend over. Initially. We drank wine and listened to music and talked and joked just like when we first met! Of course that turned into kissing, and next thing we were entangled in bed, and he was apologizing. Admitting how shitty he had been. Would I give him a second chance? He offered me back the world he had shown me. I was quiet. I needed to think on this I told him. He hurt me pretty bad. He promised to make it up to me. He had never even taken me on a proper first date, and he had a couple of days off this week, he was going to take me out – a nice dinner even! … we finally fell asleep close to dawn, with him squeezing and holding me and kissing me with such fierce love. I was melting back into him, while a sane part of me screamed “Don’t do it, it’s a trap!”.
The next morning, not 100% certain this wasn’t a wine induced conversation I held back on any mention of the conversation hours before. But before he left, he looked at me and said, “We’re all good now?” and I knew what he meant. I told him, “Show me some consistency.” He agreed and left for work.
That weekend I was busy with friends but we stayed in close text contact. It was the old Hawaiian, the one I fell for several weeks prior. Jokes, lusty exchanges, sweet missives. He had mentioned on that Friday night that his days off were Tuesday and Thursday and he wanted to do something with me. Monday came, and like always at work I heard from him. The difference was I was also hearing from him at night too. I did see the effort. Until Tuesday. He went nearly radio silent. No request to see me. No first date dinner. That Stupid Girl in me tried to assuage the situation. Said maybe he was getting all of his stuff done that day. We still had Thursday. But the Cynic in me, the one who so correctly reads all the red flags and states the honest God given facts and is 99% ignored said differently. She knew. She knew the same fucking pattern was back. Between the two counterpoints in my head we reached the compromise of Thursday. If nothing by then, we were calling him out.
The whole week, the vibe felt slightly off. We were communicating, but it was – I don’t know – it felt forced or minimal on his part. I’d say I missed him and he wouldn’t respond for hours. Or he’d give me a thumbs up. Thursday finally rolled around, and of course he went radio silent. My newly mended heart was breaking all over again. By Thursday after I calmly called him out trying to make certain I didn’t bring out the force of defensiveness – I reminded him of the conversation we had less than a week prior – and asked him if things had changed since then.
And he answered with “Huh?”.
Are you fucking kidding me? HUH?. Literally.
I was dealing with the crazy version of him. I didn’t want to spell out the specifics. I wanted to leave that up to him. He got curt with me, and asked me to “…cut to the chase.” I knew then and there this was over. I held onto my bleeding but angry heart and just dipped out. Told him never mind. I wasn’t going to get into specifics that he could argue. I knew either he meant what he said, and his actions would show it, or he didn’t. He got more defensive, and I told him we needed to simply move on. I believe I said “Bite me once shame on you …” And that was truth. I knew what I was dealing with, and I still considered
I was saddened, but wiser. The second bite was my fault. How does that story about the Scorpion and the Frog go? “You knew you were dealing with a Scorpion and yet you still trusted me. Who’s at fault here? ” The Scorpion was just being himself. I didn’t scream text him. I didn’t berate him. I just unfriended him on FB.
Hours later shit hit the fan.
I received a FB Message from him that was barely coherent. He was scream texting me! It literally pulled the rug out from underneath me. Was it me unfriending him on FB? Because we were friends, neither of us could see the other’s FB Dating profile, but with us no longer friends, did he come across mine? Then his nastiness got personal – he involved family, and that was it for me. The Honey Badger in me was begging to rip him to shreds, but I couldn’t.
I’ve talked to my therapist about this situation with him, and there is an assessment that we might be dealing with mental illness. I know he has a HUGE amount of grief he hasn’t dealt with. That breaks my heart right there. His losses are massive. But there is something more than that. More than just the secrets he carries. He also has a tendency to think he’s told me things he hasn’t. From day two, he’d say “I told you [fill in the blank]…” and I’d have to murmur, “No babe you never told me this.” Of course my therapist would never try and diagnose a total stranger, but she agreed we might be dealing with bi-polar behavior.
With that said, I just couldn’t find it in me to go Honey Badger on him. This behavior was so apparently coming from a place of pain, I could almost feel the bleed coming thru the text. I’d dealt with his defensiveness before, but this was ANGER. I first asked him what the hell was going on – trying to decipher what set him off, but soon realized that wasn’t going to happen. So then I set on letting him know his actions were shameful. He went on a small litany of how my life would be boring and how he was blocking me (sidenote: Second guy to have to tell me that in a matter of months, and I find it hysterical), and then BAM slammed the proverbial door with blocks. Blocked me on Messenger and Text. ,
I felt like a tornado had come thru. One without warning. I didn’t even have time to shelter down. While I was in a little bit of shock, I had already placed a cast on my heart so he did little collateral damage at this point. I was more confused than hurt. And concerned about him. His mental state.
I’ve checked FB Messenger a few times since the blow-up. Knowing how he tends to over-react and then backtrack, but to no avail. I’m still persona non grata. But then recalling the last guy who said he was blocking me via text (and didn’t, hence the reason I laugh at it) last night I decided to reach out and see if I was actually blocked. I know, Scorpion. Who places a hand out to pet a fucking poisonous animal, one that has already stung before? I do, that’s who. But it’s taken me a while to write this out, and while the moral of the story is one of sorrow, there was some intense happiness there too. So he was strongly on my mind. And truth be told this guy is under my skin. I won’t go back to dating him – that ship has sailed and Cynic is firmly at the wheel steering it out of port, but I’ll always give a shit on how he is.
He responded back this morning.
Single File Dating 