The Catalyst

Ok, so today, I’m going to admit some things I’ve not really wanted to admit. It’s harder then one would think to really put your feelings out on the internet. I’m sure this sounds a bit odd but it’s a little nerve racking knowing people will read your thoughts. And without further ado...

The first catalyst in my deciding to start this blog is the fact that when I look around, I feel general disappointment in men, more specifically, the men of my life. But don't think I'm man bashing. I'm not saying there aren't any good men. I KNOW there are plenty. I love men. But there is something I am doing, something I am allowing, that brings disappointing men into my life. Something that leads me from one relatively insignificant man to the next. Something that holds me in the pattern of being a serial casual dater.

The next catalyst is the last guy I was involved with. This is particularly hard for me to write about. I hate admitting that a man affected me emotionally. Lucky for me, he doesn’t know about this blog.

So, this is the long and short of it. We were friends first. I believe for about 3 or 4 years. Let’s call him ‘Mr. Callous.’ One day, I went to his house to watch movies (something we always did) but this time my ego was injured from the guy I was seeing before that. So as always, Mr. Callous made a pass at me. This time I didn’t refuse his advances.

From that point on, we had a sexual relationship that lasted for about a year. I’d go to his place, we’d watch movies, we’d have sex. Then I met another guy, ‘Music Man,’ started dating him and stopped going to see Mr. Callous. Although to be honest, Music Man wasn’t the only reason I stopped spending time with Mr. Callous. I had started to grow tired of the routine of the relationship with Mr. Callous plus, by that point, I had concluded that Mr. Callous was the MOST emotionally stunted, cold man I had ever dealt with. And remember, I’m the girl who’s attracted to emotionally unavailable men. And if there ever was a casebook study of an emotionally stunted man, Mr. Callous fits the profile to a tea!

So, Music Man and I stopped seeing each other after about 6 months. He told me he loved me on Friday and broke up with me on Saturday. Nice, huh? After that, I comfortably slipped back into seeing Mr. Callous. This is leading to where he and I are today.

Mr. Callous and I went back to seeing each other every other week or so and I went back to go to his place, watching movies and having sex. So you see, he and I were never anything. I wanted to share the background with you so that you can understand, as did I, that there was no illusion about what we were.

However, there were a few things that really bothered me. He never, ever wanted to hang out with me or do anything other than me go to his place, he wouldn’t kiss me good bye (I mean come on...you were inside me just 5 hours earlier), he never called or text to check on me (which he used to do when we were just friends). And if we had started out as sex partners it would have been one thing, but we were friends...once upon a time, or so I thought.

There were other things too. Things he once started to talk to me about but when he asked what he had done to hurt my feelings, I told him I couldn’t remember. A half-truth. Of course I remembered but they were small, insignificant things that from a man’s point of view (especially him) would sound trivial and they were. But those trivial things were illustrations of the core issue, he could give a f*ck less about me. Perhaps I should have talked to him then but that’s when I was seeing Music Man and Music Man, for a short while, seemed like the sweetest, most charming boy in the whole wide world. I just felt like it didn’t matter at that point.

So...about a month ago, I called Mr. Callous. Told him I had feelings for him, which in retrospect, I think I meant to say I’m feeling disrespected and unappreciated by him and it hurts my feelings. Either way, this is how it went:

Me: “I have feelings for you.”
Mr. Callous: “I understand. I’ve been through this before.”
Me: “Ok?!??!??” *left speechless at the lack of felling from Mr. Callous*
Mr. Callous: “I hope that we can still maintain our friendship.”
Me: *in my mind* Do we have a friendship anymore? Have we ever? But I never responded.
Mr. Callous: “You there?”
Me: “Yea...well, ok then.”
*end scene*

We didn’t talk for a couple of weeks but kept text messaging and flirting. I went to his place, we watched movies and had sex. This time, however, during sex I went to kiss him and he wouldn’t kiss me. I asked why. He didn’t speak. “Why won’t you kiss me!?” He says, “We both just woke up,” as if to insinuate morning breath. I was so insulted and hurt. We’ve been doing this for how long?? You can f*ck me but you won’t kiss me?? It made me feel like he looked at me as if I were some sort of prostitute. I almost got up and left at that moment but I didn’t want to have a conversation with him, I didn’t want the drama. We finished...excuse me, he finished, I finished myself and we went to sleep, and in usual form, he at one far end of the bed, me on the other. I hate to admit this but I actually got teary eyed as I layed there in bed with him. I put it out of my head and fell asleep.

My phone alarm woke me up the next morning. I got up to turn it off and I thought, “What the hell am I doing here? If I have any respect for myself, I’m getting the hell out up out this bitch.” And that is exactly what I did. I got up, got dressed, gathered my belongings and left while he slept. I have no idea what he thinks was the reason for my departure. Knowing men, knowing him, he probably thinks I just cared too much for him and it was just too hard. But it wasn’t that. I just felt that he cared too little, if any at all. I felt disappointed and disrespected. And I thought, “If he doesn’t care, well then, I won’t either.

It’s been a few weeks now. We haven’t spoken. I have not called him, he not me. I think about him daily. That will go away. It always does.

The real truth of the matter is that if I wanted a relationship, I'd be in one. Everything else I've ever really wanted, I make happen. So why would this be any different. One thing I most certainly know that I want from a man is NOT the relationship (because honestly, that freaks me out a bit) but instead, I want to know that there is a possibility of whatever it is we are doing turning into something more over time...if we both want that. It’s really difficult for me to verbalize what I want from a man other then that.

In giving into serial dating, I’m hoping to remove the pressure women put upon themselves to find “someone special.” Why do we raise out girls like that? To believe that they are less then whole without a man. And even though my mother raised me to be independent and to never depend on a man, she showed me by her actions to depend.

And here I am, an extremely independent single woman who for the most part, is happy being single, who enjoys the company of men, who hopes to one day have a relationship but who knows some things still need to be worked through. I will not have what my mother had. My mother was an amazing woman who deserved so much more. And while I’m not perfect, I’m a good person, I’m a good woman and one day someone will be lucky to have me in his life.

So, now it's time to work.

**Disclaimer: Mr. Callous wasn't horrible. We did have some fun times and I'm sure he would have an entirely different perspective on the matter.