Could I please just meet a boy who doesn't want to wear my skin?

I'm just going to start at the beginning, repetitive though it may be. It's really long. Far too long. But when I sent it to Rebecca (do you ZooLoo? I do!) over at Losing it to see if she could help me edit it down, her response was "You. Cannot. Edit. Any. Of. This." So here it is, in all its glory. Feel free to skim it, peruse it, glance at it, print it out and light it on fire, or not read it at all. I won't hold it against you. There's some really good stuff in here, though. How did all of this happen in two months?


At the end of January, I got dumped by a douchebag of epic proportions. I wrote about it endlessly as if anyone cared. As it turned out, some people did (thanks for your support, guys!). Who knew?

I wasted far too much energy and far too many tears on someone who really never cared about me in the first place.

I closed myself off and shut myself down for a good four months. Then, one day, it was like the light just came on again. I started going out more and hanging out with my friends while not wearing my pajamas. I found some new hobbies. I met some new people. It was great.

Then I ran into Motorboater. We all remember him, right? Very quickly, though we’d only really been out a few times, he got really attached to me. It freaked me out. A lot. The whole time I was saying things like, “I’m not really ready for anything serious” and “Gosh, I kinda think you’re a jackass” and “Gee, no, I really don’t trust you.” And still, it didn’t dissuade him.

Then came the day when he decided to go into weird, slightly psychotic mode. There were phone calls and text messages and he asked me to meet his mom (after like three dates…wtf?). My personal favorite was when he asked me if I wanted to come hang out with him and his mom (no), and I said I had plans to go rock climbing with my friends and then we were going to have dinner. His response? “Cancel that. I haven’t seen you in a week.”

Not bloody likely. (Sometimes I don an English accent when I'm pissed.)

After a couple more calls and texts and some guilt trip about how he didn’t have anyone to talk to because his mom was hanging out with the guy she picked up at the last bar, I agreed to come out for one beer. Then his mom gave that stranger a blow job in front of the bar. And I was done. Stick a fork in me, whatever.

I didn’t hear from him for a while after that, which was fine with me. Then he called me one night, while I was at dinner with my mom. I didn’t call him back. That was the end of it. So I thought.

A week or so later, I ran into him at a bar. I tried to be nice and just sort of friendly let’s let bygones be bygones about the whole thing. But Motorboater? No…he steadfastly refused to speak to me for most of the evening, but while sitting at my table. Ugh. Then he finally left. At 2:00 am, I receive a text about how he didn’t think that seeing me would affect him, but it does and it really sucks when someone tells you they don’t want to get hurt, but then they ignore your calls and act like nothing’s wrong and how he knows that this is what happened to me in my last relationship, so he knows I know how much this hurts.

What?

So my year and a half long relationship is comparable to our three dates? No. Save that drama for your mama (not that she doesn’t cause enough of it on her own.). I’m out.

Then I met this guy and we were friends and I really enjoyed that and then he kissed me and it was nice and we went out once, but I was worried about it ending our friendship so I had to say something and I think I hurt his feelings, but we’re still friends and everything is okay. I hope. (And he reads my blog. Everyone say hi!)

Last week, I was shopping for groceries and this guy sort of…hit on me. Blah blah, he asked me out and he seemed cool, so I said yes. We had a really great first date. Like really great. Movie first date great. We had a really great first kiss. Like really great. Better than movie first kiss great. (Of course the next day, via text message he FREAKED me out by telling me he felt like we were involved and asking me if I felt the same…wtf? After what follows, you can totally come back up here and say, “Uh, shine? RED FLAG!” and you will be completely right and I will buy you a beer. Or a cupcake.)

And I got excited. About a boy. We hung out a couple more times. I decided to overlook that he was wearing crocs, for crying out loud…who does that? Plus, he was a smoker. Still, I was excited. Our second date was also good. Then we had our third date. It can only be described as awkward with a touch of defensive. I’m not sure what happened, but the whole time we were at dinner, things were just…off. He told me stories I wouldn’t tell someone I was trying to impress, he quizzed me on music (Because he knew I had dated a couple of musicians and he’s a musician, blah blah. Oh, by the way, I’m DONE with musicians. I hope…), and generally acted in a bizarre fashion.

Oh, I should mention here that he also had this thing for asking me what I was thinking. Do boys outside of high school still do that? I thought you men were all about not knowing what we’re thinking. And this wasn’t just like hey we’re sitting in silence for five minutes and you have this pained expression on your face so I’m going to ask you what you’re thinking because it seems like I should. This was like hey we’re kissing, but now I’m going to pull back and ask, “What are you thinking?” or say, “Penny for your thoughts…” Yeah, in that moment, you don’t want to know what I’m thinking. Trust me. It’s about what an idiot you are, though.

If I want you to know what I’m thinking, I’ll tell you. Does it seem to anyone that I have a problem saying what’s on my mind?

Also, if he texted me mushy crap like “Miss you, XOXO” I didn’t really respond (Because ew). Then a few minutes later I would get a text about how I didn’t respond. Usually fairly defensive in nature. “So I guess no hugs and kisses from you?” Ugh. I don’t really play that crap. It’s weird and stupid and I don’t get it. WHEN I’VE KNOWN SOMEONE FOR A WEEK. I don’t actually miss you, yo. So I’m not going to lie.

Then his roommate came home and everything sort of went into the shitter. It was already teetering on the edge, anyway. Then his incredibly conservative, incredibly republican, incredibly aggressive roommate gave me the third degree for an hour and a half. And he (my date) said the words “Obama is a complete fucking idiot.”

Sure, everyone is entitled to his or her own opinion. But really? Obama’s a complete fucking idiot? I just don’t think so. I refuse to sit and be attacked about my politics by people I barely know. Hell, I refuse to discuss politics with anyone.

I grimly muscled through it and about 15 more what are you thinkings and the next day, I promptly called my bestest mcbestest friend in the whole wide world and the love of my life (it’s really too bad neither of us is a man), Cheese, to discuss. We decided that he definitely lost points and that I was probably going to have to end it.

I was in favor of just letting it fizzle out. After all, we’d only known each other for a week and it wasn’t like we were friends or anything. But oh, no.

Every Monday night, after I work for 12 hours straight, I meet my mom for dinner. We’re trying to have a relationship and stuff. I guess while I was at dinner, he texted me, “Thinkin bout ya! :-)” I know there’s nothing wrong with that, per se. But we’ve only known each other a week and that’s the 37th such text I’ve received. It’s just a little much for me.

After dinner, I called Cheese and we talked while I drove home. Then I downloaded and installed the latest update for my phone (Hello, texting in landscape, you sexy beast!), which took a good half hour. Then my phone rang. Him again.

“Hi. Miss you. What are you doing?”

It’s 11:00 pm on Monday, I’m in my bed. Duh.

“You know, when I text you, it’s totally okay if you text me back. It’s not going to freak me out.”

At this point, I’m pretty sure me skinning a live animal in front of you wouldn’t freak you out. I let out a big sigh and explained that I was busy and shit.

We got off the phone and I went to sleep thinking, yeah, that’s over.

Wednesday, while I was at work, he called me. I didn’t answer BECAUSE I WAS AT WORK. He left me a message, “Uh, hey. It’s me. Give me a call if you don’t mind.”

Five minutes later, he texted me: Hey you! Any chance u may be able to hang after jits 2nite?

Thirty minutes later: Guess u r 2 busy 2 talk 2 me. Drop a line when u can if u don’t mind. Thanks.

(Can I just mention here how much I hate this kind of text? Unless you're phone is old, I see no reason that you can't type out at least most of the words. It takes me forever to translate and it gives me a headache.)

Two hours later: Is everything ok? Not like you to not respond. (To which I kind of wanted to scream “YOU DON’T EVEN KNOW ME, YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT IS ‘LIKE’ ME!)

Three hours after that: Well…Hope u r ok.

Then at 11:00 pm, a minute and a half long voicemail including crap like, “I just want to make sure you're okay and you're safe and I haven't done anything to piss you off...just please call me and let me know you're okay, sweetie."

So, okay, with no response from me whatsoever, he called twice, left me two voicemails, and texted me four times. By this point I was so twitchy and annoyed about the whole thing, I didn’t even want to talk to him. Had it been one phone call or one text message (maybe even two texts), I would have gotten in touch with him and we would have proceeded with the fizzle.

Instead, at this point, I’m kind of concerned that he’s going to make a suit of my skin and wear it to feel pretty.

This morning, I sent him the following text:

I appreciate your concern, but I’m fine. I didn’t have my phone with me yesterday, and coming home to two phone calls, two voicemails, and four text messages is way too much, way too fast for me. I’m sure that you’ll find someone who will be thrilled with this level of attention, but that someone is not me. I just don’t see a future for us.

Which I think is damn near crystal clear (The Mole thinks I was far too nice). Not that I expected him to just deal and move on…since clearly he’s crazy.

He usually sleeps really late, so I wasn’t exactly expecting a response right away. I knew I was going to get one, mind you, just not in the next minute or two.

So I get this text:

Please don’t do this. I am very sorry that it was too much. I was genuinely concerned. I care and it gets the better of me when I worry. Please don’t end this…it just got started.

Ugh. First of all, no, you weren’t genuinely concerned. You were worried you had pissed me off, sure. But I’m a grown-up. Not returning a text message for a few hours is not a sign of death. Just a sign that I’m either a) busy, or b) don’t really want to talk to you. Either way, I’ll get back to you when I’m ready and pushing it is only going to make me want to talk to you less. Second of all, seriously, it’s been a fucking week. Get over it.

Then, before I even really had a chance to respond, which I didn’t think I particularly owed him anyway, since I had made myself clear, I get this text (we’re talking about maybe two minutes later…and again, I’M AT WORK):

Wow…No response to my feelings. Ok. Guess there is nothing I can say to change your mind. Thanks for the very little time we shared. Sorry to burden you with my care. Have a good one.

Boo fucking hoo is about all I have to say to that. Also, “Sorry to burden you with my care” is an INSTANT CLASSIC and I will be using it all the time. (Rebecca's reaction: also, sorry to burden you with my care is so awesome, i want to sew it on a pillow, stain it with my own blood and send it to someone. Hell, yeah. Sounds like a Christmas present to me.)

UPDATE: I received yet another text from him: I really wish you would reconsider. I thought we had a good thing starting between us.