I have finally accepted something big. My exes don’t have to like me.
I have this strange, at times consuming, desire to be liked – even adored.
I suppose it’s fine, in general, if a bit narcissistic.
When it comes to exes? There’s just no need. You may not think fondly of me. Hell, I don’t necessarily think fondly of you either, and that’s okay. We don’t need to be friends after we stop dating. Now, if we were friends first, that’s one thing. But if we met for the express purpose of dating, I probably don’t want to be your friend once we stop dating. Nothing personal, per se. I ask for a lot from my close friends. More than I’d ask for from someone that I was casually dating or even in a relationship with, depending on the person. If those needs weren’t met by you in that role, I can’t imagine them being met by you as a friend.
Last night the woman I dated this summer dropped off the $100 she owed me (ticket refund – canceled concert due to weather) and some skirts I had given her (Crap. I really didn’t want/need those back.). After this display of “Oh hey I’ll finally return your stuff after over three months,” I thought briefly, “Maybe we could be friends!” Then I squashed that idea. We don’t need to be friends. Plus I had already deleted her contact info from my phone. (Good job, me!)
It was the weirdest dating situation. I hope to never repeat it with anyone else.
We dated sporadically, yet exclusively, for about three months. We kissed once, on our second date. I initiated it. She didn’t expect it and turned for a cheek kiss. Then readjusted for a kiss, kiss. That is it. One kiss. I don’t really recall holding hands, or much affection beyond hugging. I do recall flirting over text, but nothing overtly sexual. We went to concerts, stayed in a hotel together, traveled a bit, went to Pride together, even attended a wedding together, but still – nothing progressed. I told her she was pretty. She called me handsome. No future plans were made, not much innuendo was shared.
That is, until the night before I got the ill-fated, “We should talk” text. The night before, she had been drinking. She sent multiple texts insinuating that if I came over, we could have some action. It was late, my child was in bed, and I was in no place or shape to rush over to her apartment for a booty call. She was denied. The next day the text came. Then the phone call. We were no longer dating. I was sad, sure, but mostly a little pissed off because I wanted my summer to be the summer of making out and instead it had become the summer of a relationship that never really was. I am worth more than a three-months-in-the-waiting booty call. It ended over a one-sided phone call (I get low on words when I can predict the outcome and don’t have a strong desire to change it). Done.
Until last night – when I got a text asking if she could return my things and my money (Hell yes!). I made a mad dash to get her book and sunglasses and set them on the porch for her. Then I ran to the bathroom to take a huge dump (Hey. Poop happens.). I assume, in that time, she returned my things and gathered hers. It felt so good to get the $100 back. So good, in fact, that I immediately Snap’d a (baller) money photo to the woman I am currently dating. Classy I know.
So glad this chapter is finally closed.
You may be thinking, “Holy shit, jackass, you just wrote a lot about something/someone you supposedly don’t care much for.” Fair point, fair point.
I feel strongly that every relationship is a stepping stone. I am stepping up to something better. More loving, more consistent, more affectionate, more honest. I hope to get there soon.