Long story short, Date #7 (the man-from-across-the-state who came to Philadelphia this past weekend for what should have been our “third-time’s-a-charm” date) forgot to pack his cell phone charger when he left Pittsburgh.
Given the various issues that have plagued our relationship from its very inception, I hit the roof—not because his mistake left me sitting alone in a bar, mind you, but because my reaction to his mistake made me realize that I really don’t trust him. I jumped to conclusions and assumed the worst because he really hasn’t given me any reason not to. And where’s a fledgling long-distance without trust?
Frankly, I’m sick of writing about Date #7, and if yesterday’s comments are of any indication, you’re sick of hearing about him too. But dating is dating, and I’ve always intended to chronicle the good, the bad and the ugly so for the sake of keeping you all up to date: here goes.
He apologized and I attempted, after a good show of indifference, to accept his apology, but I was angry. And disappointed. And hurt.
Anger is easy to get over when you’re the oldest in your family and you’d rather give in than make waves. But hurt? Hurt is harder to get over. In fact, it’s been several days now and the only reason I’m in less of a bad mood now than I was all weekend is that he’s finally returned to Pittsburgh.
(And I’m planning to buy a new pair of shoes today.)
(And I’m seeing the Wedding Date on Thursday… but that’s another story for another day.)
He’s still apologizing, and still texting, and still calling and still sending me Facebook messages with esoteric suggestions for my reading list but at this point, I’m ambivalent.
(As a brief aside, for those of you wondering WHY THE HELL I haven’t already given him the boot, his bookshelves have something to do with it, and yes, I’ve made this mistake before and yes, the result was perhaps the most toxic relationship of my 26 years but I’m choosing, in my infinite wisdom, to ignore this fact for now).
Ambivalence, however, can sometimes be a good thing. In fact, I made the following discoveries over the weekend:
1) Ambivalence leaves you feeling so crappy that you lose your appetite. Thus, when your date suggests stopping for ice cream on the way home, you couldn’t care less. In fact, you can sit there on the sidewalk watching him eat his peanut butter cup without experiencing so much as an inkling of desire. Yay for weight loss!
2) The goodbye is short and sweet. No tears. No lingering. Just a last word (or several in my case…) and a slight surge of pride as you feel yourself walking away without looking back.
3) Looks don’t matter. You can wear your one of your lefty t-shirts (“Make Out, Not War!”) with a pair of comfy shoes and not care what he thinks of you.
4) You can set your own schedule, and if you’d like to spend all afternoon sitting on the sidewalk at City Hall in solidarity with those of the Occupy Philly/Occupy Wall Street Movement, you can. If your date doesn’t like, tough sh*t; he can take a hike.
I also discovered that ambivalence on the part of one person can lead to complete contrition on the part of the other. If I had a dollar for every time I found myself saying, “No! I do not want to kiss you!” this past weekend, I’d have… well, a lot of dollars by now.
- Ambivalence reigns supreme… (aftertheecstasythelaundry.wordpress.com)
- Why I Am Ambivalent About Lady Gaga, By Skeeter Phelan (gloganvlog.com)