So I did what any self respecting, strong and courageous woman should do after yet another failed relationship…I left town. OK, so the trip was maybe planned long before I knew that this was going to happen but it sure seemed like good timing. I was able to laugh with friends and be distracted for a few days. But I knew the feelings were just being put on hold. I knew it was all waiting for me back home.
This is neither a tale of a great romance nor does it have a tragic ending. But it is my tale, and for this girl…well. Y’all know.
It’s your typical scenario. Girl meets Guy at a coffee shop. Guy asks girl out. Girl laughs out loud and says NO (well nicely, you know?). This maybe continues for a year. During this year they become really good friends. There are many more coffee shops, hikes at Taylor’s Falls, dinners, movies, bike rides and hours of downtime just hanging out. And every time they get together he manages to bring up the same thing.
“You know, I’m a pretty great guy. You should let me take you out on a date.”
“Would you just stop bringing it up?” she’d always respond. “We’re perfect as friends. Besides. I’m WAY too old for you.”
“Just try it. What have you got to lose? Go out on a date with me next week and this time call it a date.”
So you know after a year it just kind of becomes What We Do and at times you don’t even respond. You just roll your eyes or shake your head while smiling at him. But then one day it hits you that something is different. You’re used to seeing him all the time but now you’re thinking about him all the time too. This realization incites momentary panic. You run through all the great reasons you shouldn’t date him (9 years younger. I’m just saying.) in your head and they suddenly seem…not so great.
Girl switches up the What We Do Script and tells guy “Yes! Yes I want to date you.” But apparently this routine has just become part of What We Do for him too and he is no longer even expecting a yes. By now you have done a most fabulous job of helping him to see all the reasons why it was not a good idea. So of course Girl responds by erasing old “most humiliating experience” story from her journal, writes this one in, packs her bags and leaves town to go climbing in the Rockies. OK that trip was maybe planned already too, but y’all gotta give me some credit with the timing on these things. K?
Months go past. Girl and Guy are still together all the time. They go traveling along the North Shore, sailing on Lake Superior, camping in Afton and at some point girl (who unfortunately loves him) accepts the concept of friends with benefits. (Oh, and Dad? If you have somehow found my blog I am SO referring to umm..helping each other out around the house and such. K? Oh and hi! Hello!)
Unfortunately Girl is miserable. This is not what she envisions for herself. She wants the real thing. She wants to feel like she really matters to him. She wants more than the friends who occasionally reach for each other. She wants passion! She wants affection. She wants him to KISS her damnit! He never kisses her! She wants him to put an arm around her at the movies. She wants him to get off the couch and come hug her at the door when she leaves. She wants him to see being with her as a good thing and something he’s happy about! She wants him in the role of boyfriend but the very word makes him ill. He doesn’t believe in defined relationships and has a million examples of failed relationships to make his point.
So Girl tells him she needs some time and just can’t see him for awhile. Guy calls and texts repeatedly. Girl acts like she’s 2 and doesn’t respond. Guy shows up at Girl’s house. Guy knows she’s sad and he’s incredibly sweet about the whole thing. Girl starts spending time with him again as Just Friends and finally accepts it will never be more.
Then one day Girl meets a different Guy at a coffee shop. Guy asks Girl out. Girl surprises herself by saying “Yes.” But Guy #1 is not happy about this. AT ALL. He has changed his mind and wants to give The Relationship a try. Girl is ridiculously happy and cancels date with Guy #2. Girl renames Guy HWSNBN. And now Girl will stop talking in 3rd person pronouns and finish her pathetic tale. K?
So there you have it. Yes, for those who have asked, HWSNBN is the same man that made guest appearances in my blog a year or so ago when I reviewed the book “He’s just not that into you.” We were just never meant to be more than friends. You cannot make someone love you. And there is nothing lonelier than being alone in a relationship.
And one day you inhale the truth and you exhale the hope and you tell him it’s OK. You understand that he doesn’t want a relationship and you’re OK. Really. You’ve accepted it and you want to just be his friend again because you know where he’s at and you just can’t try to make him love you anymore. And in your hurt you start typing in 3rd person pronouns again and you roll your eyes at the SUCKAGE of this blog and you try to just finish the damn thing…but somehow you feel like finishing the blog will truly mean it’s over. You know this makes no sense and your readers have probably broken up with you by now too and you decide to just tell on yourself for your behavior over the past week. You go all girly and admit to the breakup reaction. But one more paragraph needs to be written first, K?
I want you (yes you the one remaining reader! Hi! Hello!) to know that HWSNBN has never been anything but wonderful and kind to me. He is brilliant, hard working, funny, helpful, generous, sweet and adorable (he hates that word but this is MY tale and he doesn’t read my blogs anyways). He never meant to hurt me and he hates it that he did. He has gone out of his way in this past week to make me comfortable as His Friend and to ensure that I don’t do my running away bit. In turn I have assured him that it’s all good. We were always meant to just be Friends. I have not cried in front of him. When he looks at me I smile and make sure to turn away before he can see the sadness in my eyes. But the truth can only be avoided for so long. So I made my excuses and got out of there.
I sat in my car and did all the things you do to not let yourself cry. You take deep breaths. You look around for something…anything to distract yourself from the feelings inside that want to escape. But of course it doesn’t work. So you give in and let yourself just cry. Only now that it’s started it doesn’t seem to want to stop. You try to trick the sadness into anger and you slam your hands on the dash and test out a loud “DAMNIT!!” But somehow that doesn’t do it so you smack your poor car around some more and scream “FUCK!” (Oh and Dad? Hi! I SO didn’t really say that. This is merely for the purpose of stating my story, you know?)
So I gave in to it. I drove home and lit eleventyseven candles around the house. Y’all would have thought I was drunk if you could have seen me. I stumbled around the house in fabulous shoes singing at the top of my lungs. There were fitting selections from Blue October (while wearing the 3 inch blue suede Steve Maddens of course). “Hate me todaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay! Hate me tomorrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrow! Hate me for all the things…I didn’t dooooooooooooo for youuuuuuuuuuuuu.” Fiona Apple required the killer black angry boots. “Once my lover, now my friend. What a cruel thing to pretend. What a cunning waaaaaaaay to condescend. Once my lover, and now my friendddddddddddd.” Tori Amos songs demanded the amber suede boots, the black strappy sandals with the little white bows, the multi colored kitten heel slingbacks and of course the gold/bronze/silver mules “give me life…give me pain..give me meeeee give me myself!” And well. Y’all know. Many shoe intermissions commenced. The singing got worse, the animals hid in the basement, the candles began to burn them themselves out and eventually I did too. I collapsed to the floor amidst a mess of shoe boxes and shoes and just cried.
And then it happened. The clarity struck. I was mourning something that I never even had! He never loved me, and who the hell wants to sign on for that!? So I got up and looked in the mirror. It was maybe not pretty. I was sporting the whole raccoon mascara face. My cheeks were blotchy and tear streaked and for God’s sake I wouldn’t want to date me either! Besides, the girlage had ended me in sparkly gold pumps that did not even match my outfit! Just wrong on so many levels.
So you move on, you know? You take a scissors to the calendar and cut out February 14th. Also known as S.A.D. or Singles Awareness Day. You remind yourself that this was never about you (and he even told you this many times) but about him and where he’s at. And you know that you will be OK by yourself because you always have been. You are not the only still-single-never-married woman out there. You resolve to be OK. You’ll simply live your life alone and invest in some battery operated devices. (Dad! Hi! Hello! I am of course referring to umm….battery operated knitting type devices and such. K?) You’ll devote yourself to finding the funny in another week or so (y’all this is merely time off for good behavior) and you’ll pour yourself into writing because it helps. And it is What You Do. And you will maybe even stop starting your sentences with the word “and” and you will maybe stop saying maybe so much and you will maybe possibly even learn proper sentence length and how to write in the first person and you will be OK.
And you are maybe wordy and pathetic and girly and such, but damnit you have great shoes. So you erase your entire blog and write one that really doesn’t even make sense and then you cringe at the hypocrisy that is YOU because you maybe possibly agreed to spending Valentines Day with him and then you say “Fuck it!” (Dad! Kidding!) and hit “POST” on your blog page anyways because you haven’t slept and you really aren’t OK and you must now commence the Changing of The Shoes because you need to listen to The Wreckers (fitting, no?) for the eleventyseventh time and you don’t even like country…