I sit alone in a dimly lit room watching a Chick Flick. Why do I frequent this position? Each time, I am drawn into a fantastical world where everyone finds a “happily ever after”. Oh sure, there is conflict along the way. There is never a doubt that some unforeseen adversary will enter the story. Their perniciousness is always evident to the audience and never to the protagonists. Triumphantly, love conquers all…or they die. These, we know, are the atypical outcomes. Any other outcomes are disappointing to watch. Honestly, I do not care for Chick Flicks that end in despair. But at least those are more realistic.
Each time, the male love interest professes his undying love; a love that will span the test of time. There are those fleeting moments when love is hanging by a thread. The smallest mistake and it is lost forever. But somehow, someway, they manage to work everything out. No price is too great; no problem too big. But where is the reality? I have seen love stories flourish in real life, those who meet and just...know their meant to be together (or what I call the “Saturday’s Warrior Syndrome”). I have seen rewarded patience, where one had to wait for the other and in the end, they were happily married. I have seen whirlwind romances that have actually worked. But normal courtships don’t happen like they do in the movies. And, like always, this leads me to one thought: I’m still single.
So here I sit in a perpetually single state. Most of the time, it doesn’t bother me. I’m happy with who I am and the things I’ve done. I have a career and I’m learning new things every day. Life might be boring at times, but it’s good. I have nothing to feel bad about. Except when I find myself alone in a dimly lit room watching a Chick Flick.
About four months ago (has it been that long?), I became reacquainted with an old crush. I’ve written about him a few times in past posts (aka. the Jerk who broke my heart a couple years ago and how I got over him.). Go ahead and read them if you care to know the story in more depth. We somehow began emailing over the period of several weeks. It didn’t feel like regular “friend” emails. He was seeking details in regards to my life. There was genuine interest there. My first reaction was, “What? Why are you contacting me NOW? I don’t really care to have any contact with you.” But I am a nice person. I obliged the emails and began to look forward to them. He then told me about his quandary. He needed to find an accompanist for his ward choir. They had their Christmas program swiftly approaching and they had no piano players in the area. He asked if I knew of one that was seeking a new ward. Of course, I didn’t, but knowing how it feels to be in between a rock and a hard place, I volunteered for the job. I’ll admit, it was at this point that I felt something magical was about to happen. And it did.
We practiced every week and after, we sat and talked for hours. HOURS! Everything was as comfortable as it had been four years ago. He treated me like I was someone special and yes, he flirted with me. But I thought it was weird that he never touched me. Not even a hug. Family and friends said not to worry about that. It would come in time. We shared so much of ourselves, emotionally. He had recently moved into his newly purchased home and he asked my opinion on decorations, his grand piano (sigh), and other such things. One Sunday, we spent about 10 hours together! I’ve never spent that much time with a guy before.
One week, I bought him a shovel because he didn’t have one. I wanted to be nice; to show him I cared. I used it as a celebratory gift for finishing Finals. The next week, we planned a date for that weekend but it fell through. He actually threw his back out with the shovel I gave him. Sad irony. I told him to not worry about the evening, but that I would bring him some homemade Chicken Noodle Soup. He begged me to stay and watch a movie with him. He spent a while trying to convince me (I didn’t want him overexerting himself. Company can be exhausting.) But I stayed and spent a fun evening with him, hurt back and all. Whether it be the Chick Flicks or just the fact that I’m a hopeless romantic, I really thought that things were finally working out for me. It just felt right. It truly felt magical.
Can’t you just feel it? The turn that my story is about to take? Unfortunately, I had a so-called “friend” who decided to enlighten me on some of the events going on in his personal life. She said that he was dating someone, or at least he had been two months earlier. Of course, I was shocked. But I thought, “Things can change in two months. We’re close enough that he would have told me if he was dating someone. Look at what happened last time. Surely, he wouldn’t do that again.” Well folks, he did. I found out the night following the Christmas program that he was in fact exclusively dating someone. It was so hard it was to get him to admit it. It wasn’t until I came out and asked him if they were exclusive that he actually gave me a straight answer. I’m sorry, but to me, there are lines that should not be crossed when you are “exclusively dating” someone. First of all, you don’t spend HOURS talking to someone of the opposite sex (unless they are purely a platonic friend. Even then, there are boundaries.) You don’t flirt with them either. He never once mentioned her name (which is interesting seeing as she is a mutual friend of ours.). Why was he planning a date with me and asking, no, begging me to stay and watch a movie with him if he was dating someone? She never came to the program and her Facebook status said “single”. (Of course I checked!) How in the world was I supposed to know that this creep was playing me for the fool...AGAIN?! He said that he avoids talking about her because the mere mention of her name causes him anxiety. Does this scenario seem wrong to anyone else?
I literally had no clue that there was someone in his life. As I said before, he never mentioned her. I allowed myself (after much personal struggle) to fall for him all over again. To love him. To have visions of a future that was never to be. How pathetic I felt...feel. This past few months has been so difficult. Feeling rejection again, not once but twice from the same man. It’s a horrible feeling. I laid out my feelings and asked him why he never dated me. His answer, “I don’t know. It just never felt right.” Do you know how many guys have said that to me? I’ve lost count. There is nothing worse than knowing guys haven’t dated you because they “wanted to, but it just didn’t feel right.” What’s not right about it? I’m a good person. I’m a talented, friendly, well-adjusted, Temple worthy individual. So what is so freaking wrong with dating me?
And so it was, the vision of a potential future was shattered and hopelessly I watched as it was swept into the trash. But I’m a fighter and I would not take this lying down. So I told him in no uncertain terms (very thought out and minus the normal female drama) that I was hurt and felt that there were definitely lines that were crossed. It was unfair to me and it was unfair to his girlfriend. I was proud with how I handled things this time and I haven’t had contact with him since. Oh, and did I fail to mention that this “confession” took place the week of Christmas? Yeah, Christmas kind of sucked.
I honestly didn’t want to share this story with you, my blogging friends, but tonight I felt that I needed to relieve myself of this burden. It took me several years to get over him last time and this time it was only a matter of weeks. I frankly never want to see him again. He no longer exists in my life and for that I am glad. The lingering hurt slowly ebbs. The only remnants are the reminders that Satan inevitably throws my way. I was telling my roommate last night that I have felt a significant digression in my self esteem. I know that I’m a good person, but any time you receive a blow like this you are bound to judge yourself harshly. I know, in time, I will rebuild and feel better than before. I don’t know why this happened again. Somehow, I’m grateful. The dates I went on with him were some of my most memorable. They were exciting, comfortable, and just plain fun. I look back and see how often I compared other dates to those I had with him. Now I have rid myself of that ideal. It doesn’t matter how wonderful a guy treats me if he can’t be honest. There will be no more comparisons and maybe that’s one of the reasons I had to experience this again. Who knows.
For those of you that made it this far (I can’t believe I wrote so much), thank you for caring about me! I truly appreciate your love and friendship! As for now, I think I’ll avoid the romance movies and stick with good old fashioned zombie flicks. It may not be reality but there is nothing like watching dead, decaying drones wandering around in search for brains.
Brrraaaaaaiiins.