I'm not an English major. I've been told I write just like how I talk. Expect typos, and expect an occasional swear.
As much as I say I'm not ashamed of being single, I am a little ashamed I'm publicly airing what some of these toads have done. I'm a girl that believes in the "do unto others ..." schtick (and I even more so believe Justin Timberlake when he says "what goes around, goes around, goes around comes all the way back around") so I won't be using anyone's real name here. However, if someone reading needs to private message or tweet me for any additional info ... I can't say I won't share! Sorry toads.
So here we go.
I had just come off a spell of three Tinder dates. Tinder is a great app. It's so casual and easy (and a fun drinking game with friends) - it gave me the confidence to meet online dating potentials. I was always nervous to meet guys in person from dating sites. But after my 3 Tinder dates, I decided to revisit Match.com. Step up my game, get more "quality" matches. As soon as I logged on, I saw Paul*. He was tall, blonde, handsome, tan, lived in Cambridge, had a great profile (that I quickly glanced over - lets be serious, we always look at the height, occupation, and pictures first. I'd realize later he didn't live in Cambridge, he lived on Nantucket, and his whole profile was copied from a lesbian's Match.com page - but I digress...). I was so attracted to him that I immediately dished out some cash and signed up for a membership. Then I did something I hate doing ... I wrote first. And as soon as I did I thought "he'll never respond to me". Later that night ... to my surprise, Paul wrote back.
Funny I wrote about "karma" above, because Paul's opening message to me was all about karma, and I fell for it, like I usually do when it comes to "signs" in relationships. And there were LOTS of signs with Paul. He told me he was a firefighter, and he was just on a serious call that ended up surprisingly ok, and as soon as he looked at his phone post-call, "there you were". Maybe I was his "good luck charm. His good karma (even though he wasn't sure he believed in karma. I've come to find people who do mean things never do. Again, I digress...)". And just like that ... I was hooked.
Paul continued talking saying he was divorced, and ready for a relationship, ready to really like someone, he thought I was beautiful, "hot" actually. He was amazed at how quickly we connected and he couldn't wait until I got home from my business trip to Ireland so he could come "off-island" and take me out. He texted me all day, every day. First thing in the morning with a "Hi, sexy", and after what seemed like hundreds of texts throughout the day he'd end with a "sweet dreams, sexy". I felt like I had been dating this guy for months before even meeting him.
When I got home from Ireland, I was properly taken out. I had to drove into Boston on a work night. I live about 20 minutes outside the city, and can't parallel park to save my life. But he was insistent on a "good date"- which to him meant Boston and oysters, even though I said I wasn't sure if I liked oysters. I'd actually suggested our first date be at Spanky's Clam Shack in Hyannis because of the fun name, and it was closer for him living in Nantucket and taking the ferry but ... nope, Boston. (All of our other dates would end up being on work nights for me. Never on Nantucket. I still wonder if he actually lives there ... digression).
I looked good that first night. I knew I did. He told me to wear a skirt, so I wore black leather pants. I don't like being told what to do. I could instantly tell he liked me. And I instantly thought "he has weird hair". It was blondish/reddish, and thin in the front but longish in the back. His hair looked like the hair on a wig that a man in my office with alopecia had. I wish that hair turned me off more - would have saved me trouble - but he was so cute. And tall. And said he didn't have back hair. He seemed nice and funny. I was only nervous until my first cocktail was gone and then I was good. We talked a lot, but about nothing important. No real detail on things like jobs, families, friends, hobbies. We talked about ... us, a relationship, and if we hit it off how it would be. And this conversation was led by him. All conversations going forward on all other dates, and all conversations in between, would be the same.
This guy was planning vacations, asking me what concerts I wanted to go to, and told me to plan to go to the Red Sox game on Marathon Monday - which was a few weeks out at that point. That made me swoon! I always had wanted to go to that game, but none of my friends ever were able to/wanted to go. I was so pumped! So those conversations turned more into other serious conversations that had me a little nervous this was maybe moving too fast. It went from when would I want to get pregnant, to when I would get an IUD, to would I send him a "nuddie" (which drove me nuts because not only would I not send a nudie, he couldn't even SPELL "nudie"). I'd try to talk about other things like, oh, my middle name and birthday, sisters, family, dogs ... nope. Sadly never happened.
After our second date, I'll admit, I was kind of starting to like him a lot (because I'm not good with reading warning signs). I was thinking he was tall, and a firefighter, and he lived in Nantucket, and he wants a relationship, and maybe this is what happens when you're divorced and 38... things move fast!? He talked about how good looking our kids would be, and he got a haircut! Nice!
One night when I was out, he texted me this ... "I love you".
He said he loved me. After our 2nd date. (He'd drop the "L-word" three more times with me over a month long courtship) Why I didn't have alarms and buzzers going off in my head, I don't know. I went quiet. I was out with two friends (one of which was my most recent ex. Paul didn't know that) and I drank 2 drinks over my 3 drink limit. When I woke up the next morning I had a text from Paul that said "Dude ... really ... why are you messing this up?". Shit. I had drunk texted Paul before I passed out in my bed. It was indecipherable. Nothing bad. Something about "general consensus" and how I was drunk. But apparently Paul did not like this. This is when Paul started to change, slowly but surely. He told me he was going to "pick me apart and find things wrong with me in his head". Again... should have bowed out at this point. Nope. Instead I did what I rarely do - I fell for him hard and despite my fear of letting people in, I did.
Over the course of the next week, I had my third date with him. And he started to refer to me as "too intense" and would ask "something must be wrong with you, you're hot and single, what is it?", to which I would say - you're hot and single, too!? And his response was "ya, but I was married before". Since when does divorce trump never settling? Anyway ... Our conversations were now only revolving around what car he could buy that would make him look hot, if I would send him "nuddies", and when would we have sex. I told him I didn't want to have sex with him if he was dating other girls. His response "well once we have sex, that will happen naturally. You'll stop dating and I'll stop dating". The next time I saw him ... we had sex. I wanted the dating I knew in my gut was happening to stop. The next morning he was still at my house. I knew he had logged into Match.com. I still had an account. I could tell. I was quiet. He asked what was wrong. I told him I wanted him to deactivate his account. He seemed appalled. It was TOO SOON. Too soon for that but not too soon for him to say he was thinking about moving off island to be closer to me because the "distance was hard". He said "I'll get off Match right now if you give me a blow job". Again -internal alarms, horns, and whistles - silenced.
To make this story shorter than a Stephen King novel, I will jump to earlier this week. He met my friends. He was late (because he was looking at cars), when he arrived we all chatted casually enough. Then I accidentally caught a glimpse of his phone. Some girl was texting him. He had a picture of some older woman's headshot in his camera roll, followed by a series of very odd shirtless selfies he had taken of himself. Shortly after I noticed that - he got into a very inappropriate political debate with my friend. Normally, I wouldn't care. But he talked over me, he didn't let her get a word in edgewise, he was stubborn, he ignored me when I asked him to stop. And still like a fool, I paid the $200 tab. Mostly because I felt so bad for my friend and I wanted to just get out of there. Paul and I came back to my house after dinner. I asked him about the stuff I saw in his phone. The girl texting was a friend (I didn't believe that) the picture was his sister (no it wasn't), and the selfies were going to be sent to me (I hate selfies, especially shirtless weird ones like that.). We went to bed. I was upset. But still the next morning being in the same bed and a new day ... well ... you know, things happen. And right after that moment of weakness ... Paul gets up, starts to get dressed, asks me why I didn't wake him (and his snoring ass) up earlier. He had a doctors appointment (supposedly). He got dressed and said "Thanks for the sex" and left about 1.5 minutes after that. I knew in my gut this would be the last time I saw Paul.
So what do women like me do when they know a guy is checking out. They panic. I texted him and practically demanded to see him again over the next 5 days when he wasn't working. I hated how he left that morning. His response: "I wish you wouldn't talk about relationship stuff so much". This from the guy that had planned out the behaviors and heights our children would have. That turned into: I was misguided in dating, I worried too much, I didn't know what a "total catch" I was, I wasn't easy to deal with, I controlled everything. And like an idiot. I apologized. It officially ended Marathon Monday, when Paul told me he couldn't go to that Red Sox game after all. There was "too much involved" in going when he had to work the next day. At 4:30 PM Marathon Monday - Paul sent me a text. A picture from his seat at Fenway with the words "last minute tix".
What a knife in my heart that was.
He'd later tell me we "butted heads" after the night he met my friend. He had checked out. He knew the signs of a bad relationship after being in one for 5 years with his ex-wife. I googled her. She is married with a baby now. She's beautiful and looks like a sweet happy person who ended up with a good gentle man. Despite my better judgement, I texted him a final mean text telling him he wasn't a nice guy. I'd never done that before, and wish I hadn't now because it's not like me. But what's done is done. I've never dated someone never to hear from them again. I'm pretty sure this will be the first time I don't. The frog from Nantucket went out just as fast as he came in. And he left a shirt here. I couldn't throw it out so I put it in a bag, then in a box, and tucked it into storage. I might have been his good karma. But I wanted to keep his bad karma out of my place.
Recap of lessons learned:
The End.
Over the course of the next week, I had my third date with him. And he started to refer to me as "too intense" and would ask "something must be wrong with you, you're hot and single, what is it?", to which I would say - you're hot and single, too!? And his response was "ya, but I was married before". Since when does divorce trump never settling? Anyway ... Our conversations were now only revolving around what car he could buy that would make him look hot, if I would send him "nuddies", and when would we have sex. I told him I didn't want to have sex with him if he was dating other girls. His response "well once we have sex, that will happen naturally. You'll stop dating and I'll stop dating". The next time I saw him ... we had sex. I wanted the dating I knew in my gut was happening to stop. The next morning he was still at my house. I knew he had logged into Match.com. I still had an account. I could tell. I was quiet. He asked what was wrong. I told him I wanted him to deactivate his account. He seemed appalled. It was TOO SOON. Too soon for that but not too soon for him to say he was thinking about moving off island to be closer to me because the "distance was hard". He said "I'll get off Match right now if you give me a blow job". Again -internal alarms, horns, and whistles - silenced.
To make this story shorter than a Stephen King novel, I will jump to earlier this week. He met my friends. He was late (because he was looking at cars), when he arrived we all chatted casually enough. Then I accidentally caught a glimpse of his phone. Some girl was texting him. He had a picture of some older woman's headshot in his camera roll, followed by a series of very odd shirtless selfies he had taken of himself. Shortly after I noticed that - he got into a very inappropriate political debate with my friend. Normally, I wouldn't care. But he talked over me, he didn't let her get a word in edgewise, he was stubborn, he ignored me when I asked him to stop. And still like a fool, I paid the $200 tab. Mostly because I felt so bad for my friend and I wanted to just get out of there. Paul and I came back to my house after dinner. I asked him about the stuff I saw in his phone. The girl texting was a friend (I didn't believe that) the picture was his sister (no it wasn't), and the selfies were going to be sent to me (I hate selfies, especially shirtless weird ones like that.). We went to bed. I was upset. But still the next morning being in the same bed and a new day ... well ... you know, things happen. And right after that moment of weakness ... Paul gets up, starts to get dressed, asks me why I didn't wake him (and his snoring ass) up earlier. He had a doctors appointment (supposedly). He got dressed and said "Thanks for the sex" and left about 1.5 minutes after that. I knew in my gut this would be the last time I saw Paul.
So what do women like me do when they know a guy is checking out. They panic. I texted him and practically demanded to see him again over the next 5 days when he wasn't working. I hated how he left that morning. His response: "I wish you wouldn't talk about relationship stuff so much". This from the guy that had planned out the behaviors and heights our children would have. That turned into: I was misguided in dating, I worried too much, I didn't know what a "total catch" I was, I wasn't easy to deal with, I controlled everything. And like an idiot. I apologized. It officially ended Marathon Monday, when Paul told me he couldn't go to that Red Sox game after all. There was "too much involved" in going when he had to work the next day. At 4:30 PM Marathon Monday - Paul sent me a text. A picture from his seat at Fenway with the words "last minute tix".
What a knife in my heart that was.
He'd later tell me we "butted heads" after the night he met my friend. He had checked out. He knew the signs of a bad relationship after being in one for 5 years with his ex-wife. I googled her. She is married with a baby now. She's beautiful and looks like a sweet happy person who ended up with a good gentle man. Despite my better judgement, I texted him a final mean text telling him he wasn't a nice guy. I'd never done that before, and wish I hadn't now because it's not like me. But what's done is done. I've never dated someone never to hear from them again. I'm pretty sure this will be the first time I don't. The frog from Nantucket went out just as fast as he came in. And he left a shirt here. I couldn't throw it out so I put it in a bag, then in a box, and tucked it into storage. I might have been his good karma. But I wanted to keep his bad karma out of my place.
Recap of lessons learned:
- When your gut is telling you not to believe the stories you're hearing, don't.
- When it seems "too good to be true" and instantly turns into "he doesn't remember a thing I told him about myself", it is indeed too good to be true.
- When a guy keeps telling you how hot you are, vs. how smart, fun, creative, quirky you are, and doesn't get to know you as a person, it's not a good thing.
- Don't ever send "nuddies".
- Don't apologize for being yourself.
- He was right about one thing ... I am a catch. I need to be more confident and worry less about what people think of me. Especially firefighters from Nantucket.
The End.
*Names changed to protect the less-than-innocent.
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