Saturday, 01 September 2012
It happens to the best and worst of us. Like John Calvin's doctrines of predestination, it does not matter how pure of heart or vile of soul you are, it has already been predetermined whether or not you will get screwed over by someone romantically at some point in your life... and you very likely will.
The problem arises when you don't realize that you've been used or that the other person probably woke up the next day and was like, "oh shit." Once you realize and accept it, all of the events leading up to your realization kick in and you feel like a fool for not noticing the million signs that he clearly just wasn't interested.
Then you remember all of the texts you sent him that probably made him think you were flat out crazy. Suddenly, it all comes together and you realize that this person has the entirely wrong impression of you because let’s face it, all women have a crazy streak, however prominent. Even though you are generally a very nice, well-to-do lady, if you tried to go back and explain that now, you’d just be digging that hole, honey.
I experienced this first (and hopefully last) hand at the beginning of last Summer and luckily I have since quit my job at the frozen yogurt place that he semi-frequented and haven’t seen him on or around campus. Here’s my story:
I was working at a Red Mango at the time and this guy would come in every so often with his two best friends/roommates. Immediately, I was taken by his white smile, slender but fit frame, and dark Middle Eastern features. We spoke only briefly, but I totally turned it on with my wit and smile. Target was set.
Like I said, they came in semi-frequently and I worked a lot, so I would get the chance to talk to him a little every time, but nothing more than “How’s your day?” or “Nice flavor and topping combo!” *face palm*. FINALLY after months of looking for an opportunity, the moment presented itself. His a capella group was holding a profit share and I happened to be the lucky shift leader on duty.
Since he was the treasurer, we had more than enough reason to converse. He ended up telling me about his trip to Costa Rica that Spring Break through some program at the university and gave me his number if I wanted to hear all about it sometime. HELL YEAH BROTHER! WOO! That night my heart sang.
A couple of weeks had passed with little to no communication until one night right after finals (here we go with the signals). It was around 2AM and he text me saying he was downtown (meaning on 6th street) and wanted to know what I was up to. Again, realize that I was still very naive to the evil ways of men at this point. How could such a smart, nice guy have ill intentions? (I deserve all of your laughter.) I told him that I was just hanging with some friends, that we were about to eat, and then I’d be free.
He ended up meeting us at the restaurant and then he and I went back to his place. I could tell he wasn't totally sober, but he didn’t seem to be incapable of hosting or anything. Nothing aside from making out and sleeping in the same bed happened that night.
The next day while I was leaving, he mentioned that a) I needed to probably leave because he had a friend stopping by to return a textbook and b) he doesn’t like to bring around or mention girls that he’s interested in to his friends right away so to not say anything on Facebook or anything like that. I responded politely, but was a little inquisitive mentally, though I didn’t put much stock in it at the time.
Of course, silly naive me thought that we had started something so I text him that night asking if he wanted hang out. He said he was busy and I didn’t think anything of it (people are busy). The next night I invited him over to chill and watch a movie with some friends and he again had an excuse. I have no clue what came over me, but I replied with something along the lines of, “Look dude, if you don’t like me just say it. I’m a big girl and I can handle it, but don’t just blow me off into oblivion.”
His reply was that he was leaving for the summer and just didn’t want to start anything less than a week before he left. Not getting the hint, I continued to try to text and hang out with him for a good week and always got the same response and my texts became more and more desperate and crazier. Finally, he left for home and the break was clean.
With the clean break came the overwhelming reality of his intentions and my handling of the situation. Like the end of Fight Club when the Narrator retraces his life and realizes that he is Tyler Durden, I replayed the events of the night we hung out and everything came into place: 2AM is when the bars close, being a little drunk and a little lonely, waking up the next day and trying to scuffle me out of the apartment while making an effort for any connection of us publicly to be prematurely eradicated, and the one-sided text messaging with denying replies.
How foolish I had been! Who did I make myself out to be? How would I face him in the Fall when he came in to work? OH GAWD, WHAT HAD I DONE?!
The worst part of all of this was knowing that there was literally no way of rectifying the situation without digging a deeper hole for myself. Better to just cut my losses and accept what I had done and move. Luckily I had moved on to another job halfway through the summer. We had zero mutual friends and different majors, so the likelihood that we would cross paths again was low. Even more unlikely was either of us acknowledging the other in the case that we did run into each other.
Since then a year has gone by, I have chopped all of my hair off, and he has only seen me out of my Red Mango uniform once, so he may not even recognize me if the opportunity arose.
Tell me I'm not crazy and you guys have been the in-the-moment crazy girl before!