Please press play:
There will be no attention to grammar or correct punctuation. I’m not even going to proofread this mess, I just need to get this off m’chest.
The messed up part of this particular rejection is that I knew the entire situation was doomed after our “second date.” It’s within quotations because the grand total of time I spent with this gent, in person, spanned 5 hours. Between two meetings. I’ve had bowel movements that lasted longer. Here’s the other kicker, in the span of those two meetings I discovered I really liked the guy. It doesn’t take me much time to realize that, A) he makes me laugh, B) he’s beautiful and C) I don’t have to explain my thought processes. These add up to ‘let’s see where this can go.’ But alas, upon the final hug of the final (second) date, I felt off. I knew I was totally nervous the entire time. I was rambling about more nonsense than my mouth is used to just to fill up any silence – comfortable or not. I started making terribly obnoxious jokes about his age, not that he was that much older than I was. But still, I motored on. I mean, his online profile described me to a tee! All the way down to being a “little peculiar.” I thought this one was in the bag until I showed up to the party and totally botched it. Now, here’s the thing: I was still me to an extent, just a nervous me. This dude was charming and completely nice (even in rejection), I don’t have any ill-feelings toward him. But this was the one time, THE ONE EFFING TIME, in my life when I knew it wasn’t going anywhere but I needed the closure. I decided I would keep texting with him and when I saw an opportunity to ask him out again, I would. His response would tell me everything I needed to know. Monday night he sends me a text, we’re chatting back and forth about our day. Conversation is flowing and I ask him what his next week is looking like because I’d like to treat him to dinner since he did previous time.
S I L E N C E
Crickets and tumbleweed is all my phone saw for the rest of the evening. Now, he could’ve just got tied up with something ALL OF A SUDDEN, or we can all just draw the same conclusions…he was trying to figure out a way to say he didn’t want to go out again. I know a lot of y’all love me, but not everyone enjoys my company and it is their loss. But dammit, while you’re with your crying babies, partners, lovers, roommate, husbands, etc. I’m sitting here LONELY AS HELL sometimes. It’s just the human truth. So yes, I would like SOMEONE to want to spend time with me who is not looking for my dyam poonany at all hours of the morning OR who doesn’t mind laying kitty-corner on the opposite side of the couch throwing Smartfood kernels at my half-open snoring mouth. These are the things that I find romantic. Is it so hard? Want my cooch at regular hours and bug me while I sleep – THIS IS NOT A TALL ORDER.
I’m digressing like a digressor. The point is, he didn’t answer. I understood why because remember…at the end of the date, I already felt it was doomed. But because I dug him, I tried to clasp on to the possibility with all my damn might. Monday night, I followed up my date request with a simple message saying that I get it, he does not need to contact me again and meeting him was awesome. I wished him luck and deleted him from my phone.
It’s now Tuesday. Tuesday, May 1, 2012. A text message? But from who?
“I would like to be straight with you. I don’t want to mislead you.”
But wait, is this…is this Rejector Slim? I jumped right in and said, Dude…it’s all good. I already know. WE already know, please don’t go on. Why in Jeebus’ name do I want to hear his reasons – for once, I’ve accepted it wasn’t going any further. This is all going to end badly. He proceeded to text me all of his reasons, the arduous thought-time he put into his decision, several “I’m sorrys” and in the five hours we spent together, he came to the conclusion that he can’t see anything developing. Romantically. Though he wished this wasn’t the case. *single blink* I did not wait to exhale…that isht is so 1995. I gave him the straight-goods: first of all, I told him not to be sorry. If everyone in the world were romantically or physically attracted to everyone, then that magical, flippy-dippy feeling in your stomach wouldn’t exist. It takes someone special to make you feel like that person is different, so I can’t fault him for that. I wished him luck (again) and told him all messages from me will cease upon me sending this. THEN HE RESPONDS AGAIN (don’t worry, I didn’t write him back). He just wanted to tell me after reading my text it was a testament to the quality girl I am and he will always look at the few moments we spent together in a positive light…yadda yadda yadda….buh-bye.
I know this dude wasn’t the one, obviously. But much respect for him coherently giving me reasons (even though this was the one time I didn’t need any more closure. I got it from the silence). You, my mom, the girl down the street, every single one of my coupled man friends, my besties – NONE of you are telling me anything I don’t know. I’m a cool chick. Someone will find me when I least expect it. More fish in the sea. Don’t be upset, he’s a douche (he’s not). All this and more… do you know what that information doesn’t do for me? Make me feel better. So let me dwell in it. Let me feel it. Let me get over it. Because it’s still disappointing when someone you can see something developing with is nowhere near the same page as you; they’re not even in the library.
I’ve been rejected and dumped on several occasions, and I’ll never not engage someone in conversation if I want to talk to them. I won’t play that damn game. I can’t. It’s not me. If that means being single, then hell…I will be. Rejection is never easy but shouldn’t prevent you from trucking on. I wish this sort of thing wasn’t the norm, but it is. And while I’m numb to it the majority of the time, I’m not exactly comfortable with that.