I just don't long to hang out with you and other sweet dating stories
I am nearly 42 years old and my dating life has run the courses, like all the courses. I have experienced more bad dates than good ones and less memorable ones than memorable ones. The memorable ones usually stick out as the bad ones, because let's be clear...If I can go on a camping trip with a boyfriend and sleep in a tent next to him while he cries about his ex meth addict girlfriend sleeping with someone else, then for sure that's not the only bad one.
You can't experience something like that without there being some sort of pattern that I have broken, I might add, but not for the better. The pattern was attracting men who were victims of their own choices, addicts, un-diagnosed depression and stuck in the past. I have since traded those out for emotionally unavailable, indifferent, and unable to commit. So really...I've seen or dated them all.
But let me review some of my favorites, post Captain Crazy Pants (ie, the camper). The first was the near to divorced energy executive. He had been going through a divorce by the time I met him for more than a year and we were introduced by a mutual friend. He did well financially, and from what I've heard, those divorces can take their time. In the course of the 3 months we dated, the following occurred:
I taught him to cut his fingernails
He cried over his ex-wife, on my couch
He used my home while I went out to play on the water to send her text messages begging her to take him back
I discovered his public divorce filings and consequently found out the divorce was because he was abusive
He sent me a text message letting me know where he was staying when he went out of town which would have been sweet had it not been followed by "because nobody cares where I will be since I'm getting a divorce"
The night after I broke up with him he took someone else out on a date, slept with her and called me the day after to admit it and ask me to take him back
He offered me $20,000 so that he could hide the money from his soon to be ex-wife
That was one guy. Three months we dated. Why so long, Hadley? Well, he was severely depressed and I found out he was abusive in his previous long term relationship. I felt like I needed to bow out peacefully, quietly and gracefully and also, I needed a hook. Thankfully he sent yet another text begging his ex to take him back on the way to taking me to the Symphony and I saw it. It was my saving grace.
Let's see, oh another favorite, post Captain Crazy Pants, was a guy that when we met up for our first date an hour and a half into it I realized we had gone out once before a few years prior. He didn't remember me and it was because I had lost 15 pounds and he wouldn't have remembered my round face I had at the time. So there's that, but is that it, you ask? No. Nope. Nuh-uh. We went out again, twice. The second date was on a whim over the weekend. We spent a full day together. Let me digress for a minute, I have been told, by numerous people, those close to me, and strangers alike, that I look like a bitch. The diagnosis is Resting Bitch Face. But how I explain it to people is that I just listen with intent, I don't look at my face when I'm in a conversation so I don't know what it is doing. For the good people in my life, they rarely see it, for others...they see it a lot. So he asked me about it. Multiple times. Over and Over again. I finally, over eggs yelled out "It's my fuckin face Philip, it is just how I look." I was so over it being a subject. That was right after he suggested I consider getting Botox. And then, yes, I met him for a third time. This time I wanted to see if he would apologize or maybe be a bit different. He was on something. I don't know what kind of drug it was, but it was a bender. This was when I learned he was a heavy pot smoker, but what he had taken or snorted before I arrived, I'll never know. This date lasted 45 minutes. He proceeded to make himself dinner while dipping his fingers into a jar of peanut butter, ranting about prison and pedophiles and I wasn't sure if he was talking to me or to the people in his head. And then...and then, my face. He said to me "what does it feel like to make that face and look like that all the time?". And I exited the building. I heard from him twice more actually. A text about a month later apologizing for his behavior of which I accepted and wished him well. And then another text about a week after that asking what I was up to. He has since been blocked from finding me on social media or contacting me on my phone. Oh Philip, you're an idiot.
Okay, the final one I will leave you with has been on my mind a lot lately, I recently randomly met a mutual friend and told this very story during a bad dates discussion with a friend. It was about 2 or 3 years ago, we went out for a little more than a few months, maybe 5? It wasn't serious, we would see each other once every other week or so. We both lived busy lives, he had two small children and a demanding career. I had my career, friends and respect of people's space, especially with children. Everything about this guy was pretty interesting. Good looking, smart, did well, seemed pretty put together, definitely more than the rest, and a hundred percent emotionally unavailable. He was awkward, in many ways, but clearly, I like a challenge. After about 5 months, after getting him a free registration secured for my conference, I woke up one morning before yoga and saw I had a text from him. It was long, but my favorite part read like this "After 5 months, I should want to spend more time with you and I just don't long to do that. If you ever need any help in business, feel free to reach out." What in the actual eff Tom? A. so many other things you could have said other than "I don't long to hang out with you" and not once in 5 months, did I ask for business advice. But I appreciate what felt like a copy and paste from other text messages he had sent to other women in the past. If only he had said the wrong name too, that would have made it the humdinger.
So a grown man who couldn't cut his own finger nails, to another who suggested I get Botox and on to the final one who just didn't long to hang out with me. As you can see, my dating life has provided humor, filler for previous blogs, and has brought silent rooms to cackles of laughter. So one can see why, just maybe why, I've given up and walked away from the dating or shall I say, online dating seen in its entirety. Oh and anyone who is friends with my friend that set up the nail biter is off limits too. But don't worry...those aren't all the stories. More to come later. These experiences have never broken me, but they sure as hell helped me grow and learn to walk away.
What about you? Dating disasters you want to share?
#baddates #datinghorror #datingstories #memoir #writing #breakatthebend