I typically pride myself on being a fantastic judge of character. On being able to read people and their intentions fairly easily. Being able to pick up on what they want from me, and whether or not they are the type of person I should be investing my time and heart into. It’s rare that my initial perceptions of someone turn out to be wrong.
It’s a skill that I greatly covet, because most of the time I do believe that it keeps me from getting hurt. There are of course those times when I ignore my gut reactions and wind up getting stung (typically when I try to give the benefit of the doubt to a friend of a friend because I want to believe that they are as great as someone I care about seems to think they are), but for the most part – I’m usually right on.
Which is why it always shocks me to my core when someone turns out to be a person other than who I thought they were. I’ve talked here before about my mother coming out of the closet as a lesbian after 12 years of marriage and 2 kids with my father. I have to admit; it’s one of my biggest fears. Not that the person I end up with could turn out to be a homosexual without my knowing it, but just that they could turn out to be anything at all other than what I expected. I live in fear of allowing myself to truly fall for someone only to find out years down the line that I was wrong about them. That they weren’t the same person I thought they were at all. That they lacked the core values and traits that had attracted me to them in the first place.
I live in fear of falling for someone only to find that my initial judgment of their character was completely and totally off base.
And as a result of that fear (and my pride in my people reading abilities), there isn’t much I hate more than realizing I was wrong about someone.
You’re probably wondering what I’m talking about. After all, I haven’t mentioned any new men recently. No new prospects on the horizon as of late.
But it wasn’t a new guy who caught me off guard with his behavior. It was Mr. Fix-It.
No, not because he dumped me in bed (although, the timing of that one was a little odd). I was more or less OK with that. I got over it pretty quickly and really wasn’t holding too much of a grudge.
I had liked the guy, but I guess I kind of just figured that it was what it was. And the fact that I was over it so quickly made me realize that we probably weren’t the match made in heaven I had been trying to make myself believe we were from the onset.
Because let’s face it; despite the fact that on paper he seemed pretty fantastic, he also had a few qualities that just didn’t sit so well with me. Like the fact that he hadn’t really gotten out of the whole “drinking to get drunk” phase of his life, or that he was in the habit of leaving the toilet seat up (even when he was at my house, which kind of just felt rude). There were other things too. Warning signs I had been ignoring because I liked him and I didn’t want to do my usual picking apart of a guy, but… there were reasons to not think he was “the one”.
And the truth is, I just didn’t fall for him the way I had for the ex. Which has kind of become my barometer now for how things should be.
So yeah… not the end of the world that it didn’t work out. Just wasn’t meant to be.
I still liked the guy though. Still thought highly of him. Still figured that eventually we would probably be able to be friends
At some point or another.
The problem is, I started to get anxious for that point to come.
We already know that I don’t like words left unsaid, but it goes beyond that. I also don’t like awkwardness. Or loose ends. Or feeling like there is someone out there in this world who might be uncomfortable if they ran into me around town.
I just don’t like the uneasiness that a relationship not working out can leave. And as such, I typically work pretty hard to maintain friendships with the men of my past. Sometimes it works out well, and other times it’s an epic failure. But I almost always try.
And I had been thinking a lot about Mr. Fix-It. About how things went down between us, and how not a big deal it all really was in the end. I had been thinking about the fact that I really did love talking to him, and that I really would love it if we could be friends.
So… I took a leap. Mind you, this wasn’t on my own accord. I ran this idea by several friends first, just to make sure I wasn’t being ridiculous.
But they all agreed. Based on what they knew, no one thought it would be a bad idea at all for me to try to befriend Mr. Fix-It.
Which is exactly what I wound up attempting. Sunday night, I penned a text message to the boy from the past. Nothing too crazy or uncomfortable at all. I just told him that I had been feeling weird about how things went down between us, and that I was starting to feel like maybe I had simply misjudged where we were at because of what I had been dealing with personally (which I don’t think is exactly true, but I figured the best way to smooth things over would be to take the blame upon myself – so I was more than willing to do that). I then said that I really just wanted him to know that I didn’t have any bad feelings towards him at all, and that I had been hoping we could be friends.
What I expected was an immediate and positive response. What I expected was to be told that none of it was my fault, and that we had just been at two different places. What I expected was for him to tell me that he was totally open to us being friends.
After all, hadn’t he been the one to dump me? And hadn’t I taken it like a champ? And hadn’t he texted me the day after things ended that he hoped we would be able to hang out as friends in the future because he really just loved talking to me?
I think I was being pretty reasonable in my expectations here.
But unfortunately… what I expected was not what I got.
His response started out with “I’m not sure what to do with this” and then went on to explain that he was “an isolated person” who wasn’t going to just “call or e-mail or text someone for no purpose.”
It was cold, and insensitive, and abrupt.
And it left me feeling wounded.
First of all, I had to fight the urge to remind him that for the almost 2 months we had been dating, there were countless pointless phone calls and texts. Countless I tell you! So, unless his alternate personality had taken over, I wasn’t buying the isolated line for a second.
But second of all, what was with the coldness? Why was this guy making me feel like I was crazy to think we could be friends? It had been his idea initially!
I was just so frustrated reading that text. OK, that’s a lie. I was pissed.
Freaking fuming.
Because it was so far from the response I had expected that it had knocked me on my butt.
I wrote back basically telling him that I didn’t expect him to do anything with it at all, and I was just trying to be nice and extend an olive branch, but that he should do whatever it was he needed to do.
I then promptly deleted his number out of my phone.
Because seriously – what a douche!
As I told Loo, I think the thing that hurt me the most was the tone I got off his text that I was bothering him. Or crossing lines. Or whatever. I am the first to admit that I have a crazy side. And that when it comes to romantic relationships, I have been known to cross a line or two. But in this case? With this guy? Never happened! In fact, I was on my best behavior from the moment we met until the second I walked out his door. I was cool, and collected, and fun to be around. I never hit him with too much emotion. Never expected him to pick up the pieces for me. And not once did I push too hard.
There were no letters written, and no begging and pleading when things fell apart. I maintained my dignity, and kept things civil. Better than civil even! I’m here to tell you that I was a joy to break up with!
So to have this guy who never once saw me crazy make me feel like I was crazy? Yep, it was enough to push me over the edge.
I’ll tell you what – if he had a car, I would key it.
(no I wouldn’t, but I would have a lot of fun fantasizing about it)
Thankfully I think I still managed to maintain my dignity here. I didn’t let on to how pissed I was. How floored by his coldness. I didn’t call him all the curse words flying around my head either.
I did not put him in his place at all.
Despite desperately wanting to.
But… I was hurt. I still am hurt. And confused. And totally unsure of how the guy who I thought was so great while I was dating him managed to turn into such a prick.
I’ve dated a lot of jerks in my past, but the difference there is that I always knew they were jerks. I always knew exactly who I was dating. It says a lot about my self-esteem back then that those were the men I chose to date, but at least I knew who they were. At least I saw it coming whenever they did something completely asinine.
With this guy though? I was totally and completely caught off guard. Still floored that he turned out to be so cold.
It was The Devirginator who put the final nail in the coffin for me though. The one guy in this world who knows better than anyone what a good friend I can be! As I told him the story and read him the text messages yesterday (expecting the relationship autopsy I have come to rely on from my best male friend), he took a deep breath and said “I don’t think there’s any mystery here. This guy just isn’t the nice guy you thought he was.”
And I was annoyed.
Because I knew he was right.
I knew I had been wrong.
Done and done.
Mr. Fix-It is an asshat. I do not want to be his friend. If I see him around town, I might just kick him in the shins and run the other direction.
That’s the last time I ever try to date while hopped up on baby making hormones.
ADSPACE
