Fleekin Floygn

So after 24 hours of driving myself insane from not hearing back from him, I called again last night and got a hold of him. We talked for about five minutes. Wasn't a stellar conversation but it was enough for me to understand that he was super stressed about this test he's taking today. We both have really busy weeks so we'll hang out next week and in the meantime exchange cute e-mails. What I didn't realize is that his not calling me was not so much a lack of interest so much as a demonstration of his inexperience with dating; anyone who knows about this precarious nature knows that unless you're being coy, you pretty much call back when you get the message. But more on that later. First, let me present what I wrote yesterday afternoon, a mere 20 hours after The Message was left (afterwhich I will present some opinions on how fucked up I am):

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I have invented a new term: pre-dumping.

Pre-dumping: A complete severance of contact without warning immediately following an implication of romantic interest, the potential for commitment even, such as being curled up in a tight ball on the basement floor, kissing the nape of his neck, smelling the pure juvenile bliss that is the cheap, youthfulness of Addidas for Men followed by a lingering good-bye and a "Call me tomorrow." This is applied only to preliminary meetings, as it implies the termination of a relationship that never truly began.

For those unable to discern what has transpired due to the absence of a chromisone, he didn't call back. (NB: while in the basement, pre-tight ball, we had actually discussed the evils of not returning calls)

I suppose I'm disappointed. I know there should be pangs of resentment, and perhaps there are a few, but more than that, I am filled some something that bespeaks a more serious condition: nonchalance.

It's as though the second I left that voice mail, I knew that it was done with. The boy has always been extremely promt with returning communications (calls, text messages, etc.). So now I'm left with a slew of things I would like to say, but knowing full well from past experience that none of them will garner a response, and yet there's that overwhelming desire to let him know it was a dastardly thing to do or at the very least say, "Hey, it's ok to not be interested. Just let me know and we'll just move on." I have the beginnings but no way to end them. Maybe I should just send him this; might as well go out in a blaze of crazy glory.

I am a bit pissed off, but it isn't even at him so much. I mean, it's definitely inconsiderate and a bit cowardly, but far from a crime against humanity. No, what is angering me is that as far as romantic 'problems' go, these are all I get. The complications I get to enjoy are with people that are still essentially strangers. I don't get to have the big fights ending with either lovely make ups or devastating heart ache. It's like comparing the kinds of sex one can have, one night stand vs. wedding night. We all know upon which we place more value. I have casual, one-night romantic troubles.

And it can't be just him though. This has happened far too much in my 4.5 years of dating to call this one of several isolated incidences. There must be something in my dating style that draws people in while I'm in their presence and then causes them some ungodly repulsion upon leaving my presence. It must be me. I know my close friends will tell me otherwise, but seriously, it's time to own the fact that I have had roughly 4 times more of these 'beginnings to' than actual relationships.

If anyone has any suggestions as to what may cause this, please feel free to let me know. Unless it's "you're a sarcastic bitch." We all know that. However, I never reveal that side until...actually I don't know when I would reveal that side as it's never gotten far enough to be revealed.

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So I'm absolutely messed up.

I fully realize this. No matter how much I heard, "David! Relax! It hasn't even been one day!" I couldn't. I was in such a black and white place where there were no extraneous factors and his lack of immediate response meant that a) he was a prick and b) I was a loser. I think we can kind of agree that b still stands. I'm just so determined to be betrayed for some reason, that reason being all the betrayal in the past. Yesterday I was seriously considering taking myself off the market for a good long while. I imagined scenarios where guys would approach me and ask if I want to go out (cause that happens all the time) and me just saying, "I'm sorry; I don't date." And I really meant it because I can't deal with how stressful yesterday was, purely of my own making.

Oh, but the good news is that now, if it does fall to shit whithin the next couple weeks which, I mean, c'mon, than I'll have already gone through this and won't to go quite as crazy again.

God, je suis le fucked up.