After the abrupt ending of things with the Philosopher on Friday afternoon, I talked to Pele. She called me after I sent her an email with a summary of what happened. I picked up the phone and she said, "Un-fucking-believable." Which is strong coming from Pele. I managed to laugh because it was unbelievable.
It was full fantasy snap-back. I wanted to like him. I liked a lot of things about him. But the email he sent on Thursday had raised some questions. I wasn't the first woman he'd started an international romance with. That surprised me. I thought I was special, an exception. Lord knows I was making an exception for him.
We had an IM chat on Friday that lasted much too long and I questioned him about that. The answers were not completely satisfactory. He asked me many questions about a past relationship (vip-ex) which I'd made the mistake of mentioning. He wanted to know how many boyfriends I'd had. What he really wanted to know was how many men I'd slept with. I didn't want to tell him and he said I was being evasive. This was before I confessed all my relationship mistakes to him.
As soon as he started asking for my "number" I knew we had a problem that was not resolvable, though I clung to a little hope. He thought that he could know me by knowing my number. I said that I only slept with boyfriends and I'd never had a one-night stand. I asked what he thought the number would tell him. He said he wanted to know how promiscuous I was and how likely I was to be faithful. (I did tell him the number because he badgered me into it. I insisted that he tell me his. His was higher than mine (naturally, he's older, he pointed out). He said he had had one-night stands, but didn't like them.)
I confessed my past indiscretions because I didn't care anymore. As I typed the words, "What's really annoying is that you are going to reject me for all the wrong reasons." He was writing, "I can't handle this."
I argued with him a little while longer, not because I wanted to convince him to change his mind (ugh), but because I hated the idea that someone, anyone, thought I was evasive and untrustworthy and likely to be unfaithful.
I would describe myself (among other things) as straightforward, honest and loyal. How could anyone decide I was just the opposite?
We went a couple of rounds and then I wrote, "Forget it. Goodbye." And that was that.
After I talked to Pele, I wanted to call vip-ex, I wanted to drink, I wanted to email Jay and ask what ever happened to him. I wanted to call Audrey (the best friend from Seattle). I was glad I had a date, but I knew that poor guy was going to get an earful.
After I met my date, Nathan, I restrained myself for the first hour or so.
I mentioned that I'd had a shitty day and I could be in a better mood. We got drinks. He said he was hungry. I said, "Order some appetizers. I should eat something. I'm not hungry, but I should eat." I told him there was something on my mind but I shouldn't talk about it, it would be rude. But it was all I could think of. He said, "Why don't I tell you about my day?" He started to talk, but I kept interrupting. I said, "I can't stop talking."
I told him that I'd broken up with someone. "You might ask, why is she on a date with me when she just broke up with someone? Well, I wasn't really dating him. I never met him. We were corresponding. We wrote to each other every day for the last two weeks." And I explained just a little bit about what happened.
He said, "See how I haven't flinched?" I was confused. He continued, "You did nothing wrong. The only problem is that you are making a big deal out of any of those things. You are very hard on everyone."
"But I'm harder on myself. That's exactly what Pele said. I felt bad at the time, but I had to let it go. I know you just met me, but do I seem like I would be unfaithful?"
"You couldn't do it. You can't stop talking. You wouldn't be able to keep it to yourself." That was funny and just about right, though I have been known to keep a secret.
He mentioned that he liked my photos but said I didn't look like them (?). There is one frowny photo posted for the purpose of showing me without a smile, "I smile a lot, but I don't smile all the time. Also, it's a full length shot, so you can see my whole body."
"Not your whole body."
"Well, just the front. I can't show my rear in a photo! That has to be either a wonderful surprise or a horrible disappointment."
"I say it's a wonderful surprise."
Later, I bewailed my recent two-year dry spell. (It was broken in February. Now I'm working on a six-month dry spell.) Apparently, after being rejected for promiscuity and lack of faithfulness, I needed to declare my desire to have sex. He said, "You! Off the market for two years! That's a crime!"
Sometimes it's nice to be appreciated.
I know my date sounds like a great guy. He is a great guy. Unfortunately, I have a strong feeling that he is not the guy for me. But my new policy is that any guy who I even moderately enjoy one date with gets a second date. If this guy asks me out again, I will say yes.
Grateful for: flattery.
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