I was a sophomore in college and deeply confused about so many things I could have written a James Frey memoir and recorded an entire season of Dr. Phil. Out of desperation and a deep seeded need for a connection to anyone but myself, I started dating a guy that a met through a friend. Hindsight being 20/20, I have absolutely no idea what I was doing for the seven(ish) months that I spent with this guy, believing that I was dating him. But if that was dating, sign me up for enrollment in the nearest Convent.
Now that I have moved on and grown out of the phase of being in love with love, I am now able to share my stories about all the ridiculous things I put myself through all in the name of dating.
I met Ben* through a mutual friend and we dated for a while, although I guess "dated" is a highly inappropriate word considering the fact that we never actually went on dates. I allowed this to go on because as I mentioned earlier, in my clouded mind it was better to sit in a room that smelled like body odor and bong water than be alone. Not only did he never take me anywhere, but he never came to my house and he was constantly complaining about my friends. He claimed that he didn't want to meet my parents because no one meets the parents until they are about to get married. What is this? A bad movie? Looking back on these little gems of knowledge he tossed at me for so long I honestly can do nothing but scratch my head and wonder what the hell I was thinking. I also let him get away with never holding my hand, and I never understood why he wouldn't. I always just assumed that I wasn't good or pretty enough for him. Now I know it is because there was a Xbox controller in one hand, and a bong in the other, his hands were obviously full. He'd call, I'd jump. It was about as unhealthy as all the weed that he smoked. Ben also liked to lie a lot, I think next to rolling blunts and blasting emo-indie rock lying might of been his favorite activity. Nothing he said seemed genuine but it did seem to fit into a persona of who he thought the world wanted him to be. This became excruciatingly clear during a night out.
A friend and I met her boyfriend and Ben at a mutual friends apartment. The plan was to hang out and go listen to a band play at one of the local bars. Friend and I had been at this apartment for maybe ten minutes when the incident occurred. Apparently, Ben thought it would be wise to drink and get high on a stomach that contained a measly cup of rice. He was mid-throw in a game of beer pong when he projectile vomited all over himself and the table. That's right, mister cynical unloaded in front of a party full of people. Embarrassing. He was really upset so I took him to his place so he could clean off, because I have this innate need to try to save the day. Yes, I have grown out of that. Anyway, the evening ended with him telling me about how embarrassed he was and how he could never show his face again and how pathetic he thought he was and blah blah blah. This kid really hated himself. I always looked up to him because I thought he had it all together, well, he didn't and no one really does.
To quote an episode of Dr. Phil, there was something about him that I don't like about me. This quality in Ben of him being someone he thought he was supposed be rather than who he really was, is a problem I learned to deal with through my time with him. I really spent the better part of my first 19 years putting on a show for everyone. I guess all that abuse and time I wasted on him wasn't completely useless after all. It took this joke of a relationship to teach me that I always need to put myself first, and through this I learned how to be who I am and never make apologies for it.
And oh by the way, I now know that sometimes, when a person shows you who they are that you need to believe them the first time. You would think that I would have learned with him after he barfed all over himself, but there's no teaching me a lesson I'm not really willing to learn. I tried to contact Ben a few months after we cut off all ties for good, friendship and otherwise. I simply asked him how he was, how his 21st birthday went and all that. And this is what I got.
"Fatty B,
I'm doing great, school is good. I've been working my ass off
so that I can get out of Ohio as soon as possible.
My birthday was amazing. I can now drink legally.
LA was awesome. It was beautiful and I got to meet some
amazing people.
I regret ever having "dated" you. I can do better. I went for
who was readily available rather than who I was emotionally
and physically attracted to. I never took you out on a real
date because being seen with a girl of your frame is, to say the
least, very embarrassing.
I have no desire to talk to you again, and I could care less how
you are doing. Don't regret trying to talk to me. I hope you
now truly understand that I never want to speak to you again.
I think you are a joke, and if you died today I would be overjoyed
to have the chance to walk across your grave.
The end, you dumb, obese, cake eating bitch."
Really? First of all. I don't even like cake. It's cookies or ice cream for this girl. And secondly, I'm not dumb, I'm not the one who lost my license while lighting up a bong in a parking garage, moron. Not to mention, that is most definitely the pot calling the kettle fat if you know what I mean. My friends and I laughed at the fact that we could literally picture him in front of his macbook, fresh hit off the bong, laughing at how funny he thinks he is. Lucky for me at this point I had decided who I was and didn't take much offense to what he had to say. I was okay having him out of my life because I had finally realized he didn't belong there in the first place.
To put the icing on the cake I was so rudely accused of eating "Ben" tried to get a hold of me this past March. This time, I got the last laugh. I've deleted the message off of Facebook but the conversation went a little like this;
Ben: I thought I saw you the other day and I was frozen in my footsteps. Just wanted to know if it was you
Me: Where
Ben: Down on third street
Me: No that wasn't me, I moved remember. And it's too bad you weren't "frozen" in oncoming traffic.
That felt pretty good, cheap or not it was fun to laugh at him. Karma really does come around. Even if it took me a year to learn how to give it back
So, it's time to move past the tears of love lost stupidity. Can you put down that pint of Ben and Jerry's to answer the question, have you been there? I'll give you a minute to wipe the remnants of Cherry Garcia off of your mouths.
I like giving presents, and am fond of finding unusual gifts that make me happier than the intended recipient.
ReplyDeleteA gal I was dating years ago had a father that bought a house on a lake, and they had talked about getting a canoe or a kayak for floating around. I happened to have a line on a three person canoe, and promptly bought the watercraft for a song. This boat was huge, old, and weighed a ton. Being that it was a long distance relationship, and that I lived in an efficiency apartment with no storage space, I had to keep this hulk strapped to the roof of my buick for three weeks prior to returning to seeing said girlfriend. After driving to and from work, in a job that required much driving to and from client locations, I finally arrived to present the present. After the initial reaction of, "what the hell is that thing and what do you expect me to do with it?," wore off, she was pretty happy with the thought that went into the surprise.
I broke up with her two weeks later.
She also had a small living space with no storage, so we had convinced friends of ours with a garage to hold the canoe for a few weeks. Heartbreak holding her hostage, she failed to retrieve her gift in the allowed time, so we christined the boat "S.S. Lou-less" (My name is Lou). Written in bold red paint on the neutral hull, this name was both loud in appearance and clear in message, and funny as hell...to us.
After a year of taking up massive space, the canoe was finally called upon for retrieval by madame ex. As my friends grinned, the garage door opened, and she proceeded to read the inscripted name. I imagine it is hard to paddle straight with tears in your eyes and a lump in your throat.
Kids say the Darndest things:
ReplyDeleteIn my high school years, I was blinded enough by love to believe that age didn't matter. At least, this is the excuse I use when people asked me why I was a senior dating a sophmore boy.
When it was time for me to go off to college, we decided to see if we could still make it work. It only took me a week of the new found freedom, fresh meat, and college lifestyle to know that the young man wouldn't be around much longer. The problem was, though, that I just couldn't break the little guy's heart like that, he'd done nothing wrong yet, so we drug it out.
Soon I grew straight up bored with him. I started talking to other guys, partying 5 days a week without him, and girl time with my best friends was never so good. My new social life was all I wanted, and even though I tried, he just didn't fit.
One day me and my best friend were hanging out with her nieces that were in town from Florida. I believe they were 5 and 7, and they're the cutest little girls you'll ever meet. The youngster and I (boyfriend, not nieces) had plans to go work out, but I decided to cancel because the nieces wanted to go to Magic Castle, a local arcade. They were only in town for a limited time, they win.
This did not sit well with him, and my phone was hysterical with calls and texts to prove just that. I started ignoring it just so that I could enjoy time with other children for a change. When our arcade time came to an end I decided to check some of the many MANY messages the tot left for me. One of the worst out of them included him calling me a "bulimic fat bitch". When my best friend heard this she immediately went into oh-no-he-didn't mode. I fed off of her energy, called him back, and layed into him like he'd never heard before. After this, I didn't respond to him for days.
New Year's Eve came and went just like Navy ships passing by, and I finally decided to give him a call back. No answer. I didn't sweat it, I'd just talk to him later. That evening I had a voice message from his number on my phone. I decided to actually listen to this one, but to my surprise, it wasn't him.
It was his Mother.
She left me a message forbidding me to speak to her precious son again. HA! His mommy?! I guess that's what I get for dating someone a catholic priest would have their eye on.
Lesson learned: dating is only going to work if you are in the same place in life.