Normally, I would write a post that details my thoughts of the day, or the goings-on of the past week or so. Today I am feeling more contemplative. Yesterday I was very contemplative, and I feel the need to post these thoughts I have been having. In the spirit of personal growth and the spirit of self-exploration, I am going to delve a little bit deeper than I would normally feel comfortable. Today, lets talk relationships. Perhaps the subtitle for this entry can be . . . and how not to rush into things.
or . . . The Power of Perspective.
I have never been one of those girls who was super eager to rush out and find a boyfriend. I have always been content with being single. It just seemed easier. Also, I had a dog and really, what more does a girl need. It is not that I would not have liked the companionship, but I was content with the idea that what was meant to be would be, a que sera, sera sentiment I suppose. I just believed that what I was meant to have would come all on its own. I have learned that things don't just happen upon you (it's perhaps utopian of me to believe that they do, and I like to think that I have since grown up. Things don't always just fall in your lap.) This, I would imagine is why I don't have a bank account that is bursting at the seams, or a career in Hollywood. They won't just fall into your hands as I had hoped when I was younger.
It wasn't until last summer, in fact that I felt the need for a relationship, my dog had died suddenly and I was lonely and felt a void in my life. I chose to fill that void, I think though, that I went about it all-wrong as I had no idea what I wanted or needed. I wrote a bit about me and posted it to the Internet and waited for the emails to come (I won't even tell you where I posted this, because even admitting it to myself sounds utterly ridiculous.) Many that I received were terrifying. Some were endearing, but most fizzled when we ran out of topics to discuss in email. There were only two emailers that I felt were worthy of continuing to talk to, and only one I felt what I thought was a true connection.
At first, we talked about our interests; we talked about our philosophies and what we wanted out of life and relationships. It was all compatible. It was all so refreshing to think there was someone who had the same desires and ideas I had, or who was willing to encourage those parts of me which have been seldom encouraged.
One day, fairly early on, we talked about concerts we'd been to. Our lists were comparable which is important, because I think concerts are enriching. There is nothing like a live show, and in fact, he had been to shows that I had been dying to see. Another day we sent text-messaged quotes from "The Princess Bride" (it was one of his very favorite movies, and also mine.) We talked about our favorite bands, favorite songs, and favorite books. He was well read, opinionated and a music buff. We sent lyrics from Beatles songs in text messages and I felt, for perhaps the first time that excited feeling I had only read about in novels. That fluttery excitement that is much different than a crush, it's deeper, truer, more real.
I thought that I had found the beginnings of something wonderful, and was willing to do whatever I needed to to make certain that it turned out the best it could. I found myself at a precipice. I should have taken more time to think things over, to make well planned out decisions and less impulsive acts of passion and frankly, stupidity. I acted too impulsive and that, I think looking back was the biggest mistake that I made. I allowed myself liberties for which I was not genuinely ready, I allowed myself to ignore my own, normally very astute better judgment and went on that romantic journey that I have seen young girls take with careless abandon. I honestly cannot have expected much better, because though I have the age of wisdom, I hadn't had the experience and was therefore acting as a teenager would at first love. That was my fault.
The truth, which I chose to ignore, was that he was a thirty-nine year old divorcee (twice divorced it turned out, I should have run right then, but I didn't.) with a pre-k daughter whom he had lost custody of (He called the little girls mother a Bi-Polar bitch, a name which he would later turn on me.) He was at the moment unemployed, and spent much of the day when not spinning wonderful tales to me wooing women online, and playing video games, or planning his fantasy baseball team. He had chosen to go back to school, but had sold his computer to make rent and was therefore unable to apply. He also seemed to have a serious issue with paying his phone bill, and much to my dismay, he was constantly unable to return my calls and messages, and at other moments, he was unwilling. Especially when I really needed him to be there for me, he simply wasn't.
I chose to ignore the signs. They pointed to a need for me to run swiftly in the other direction, and to never get involved with something so already damaged, and not to mention so much my senior. I was after all, twenty-four at the time. I should have listened to the warning that caring friends and family offered, but I chose not to, and that I think in retrospect was and/or is the worst decision I made. I look back and I think about everything that I did which was wrong and I cringe. I hurt people, I lied and I made a fool out of myself. For all of that I apologize. Was any of it truly worth it? I think not. I hurt people who were close to me and I acted momentarily wholly out of character. I also feel like I lost a part of myself. I lost a piece of who I am.
In return, I got dumped as I celebrated my 25th birthday. I got called names and insulted. I became the same Bi-Polar Bitch I had come to know as his ex-wife. I really should have known better, but I finally see that this is a part of growing up. I had to make my own mistakes. I had to learn for myself, and I did, and looking back, I wish I had been content with learning from those who had experienced before me.
My biggest fault though, was not that I made all of these mistakes, even though they do take their toll, My biggest mistake was the one that I chose. That is where I made the biggest blunder. I got caught up in the idea of him, which I had created in my head. I got caught up in the impression I had made of him. He wasn't actually any of those things. He wasn't the music fan, the well read, intellectual who was motivated and intriguing. He was an old man (in comparison). He was stuck in his ways; he was an unemployed, lazy slob who was unwilling to change his perspective. He had a skewed point of view, which labeled him as the jaded loser I should have seen in him. He took advantage of my innocence and inexperience. He spent his days playing video games, restructuring his fantasy baseball team, and sleeping. He would also complain about how much his back hurt. He would complain about his heartburn (in one particular instance, when I made him dinner and brought it to him, He didn't eat it. He had a bologna sandwich instead, because enchiladas would give him heartburn. Why then, I wondered in silent complacency did you not tell me this before I made these for you?)
That is another thing. He had no money. Which would not be a problem if the cause were something other than sheer laziness. He was unwilling to work. He was counting on the thousands of dollars he would receive in financial aid in the future, or the child support payment when he finally got custody of his daughter again. Oh, and not to mention the restringing order wife number two had. He said it was because she was a, perhaps you can guess, Bi-Polar Bitch. (I started noticing a pattern, but still didn't run. My judgment is obviously off.)
I suppose that in all of this, the best path to take is the one of live and learn. I thank my lucky stars every night that I hadn't stayed disillusioned. Oh and the kicker, the final straw that broke the camels back, here's a little preamble. I started backing off. I was noticing that he wasn't as perfect and intelligent as he had originally said and I started backing off, I wasn't so quick to call him back. Wasn't so quick to answer texts. I stopped telling him things and stopped waiting to hear from him. It wasn't the most important part of my day. The finally thing though, was when he sent me a text and asked me to look something up for him on the internet, because he had sold his HDTV and Playstation 3 to make rent, and needed to know something. I informed him (I thought I did so politely, but apparently he though otherwise.) that there were computers on campus he could use (he'd managed to sign up for classes and get registered) and the public library. I was hanging out with my friends and wasn't available to be his do-this girl. He answered by saying that he understood, he wouldn't be contacting me again.
At first, I was shocked. That had not been the point of the message, however it was a relief to me that it had come so cleanly. (well afterwards, in the heat of the moment I was pissed.) I do regret not ever telling him what I really thought of him. I do regret not ever telling him why I was really done. In the end, I regret. I wish I had listened.
I have recently decided that I should just get a dog instead. It is much simpler.
