So here I am all starry-eyed like a school girl and totally crushing on my new OKC match for 4 days. I even called him “My Crush” for the week.
It was fun while it lasted. All that fluttery tummy feeling from the Butterflies is always fun.
Here’s how it played out in a nutshell…..
I met him on-line on Monday evening and we chatted, moving to phone/text by Tuesday. We hit it off immediately. His dialogue was funny and interesting. Once we really started talking, the butterflies started. I knew there was something different about this man.
It wasn’t until a few days later that I recognized myself in him and realized this is probably one of the reasons I am so intensely attracted. I love to dive right into a romance. I believe in the fairy tale. I believe that you can meet someone and fall in love at first sight kind of thing. I’m the type that will fall in love on-line with enough engagement. I just believe in love and all the silly romantic notions that go with it.
It’s the kiss of death. I know it. I can’t help it just yet.
I have made this mistake twice before. Once I got really hurt and it wasn’t pretty. Once I had a lot of dating fun and it ended ok and I wasn’t so upset. The point is, after it happened really hard the first time, I got a little better at recognizing the red flags – theirs and mine. I did slightly better the second time.
It almost started to happen with Mr. Electricity, but that never really got off the ground because it happened so fast.
This guy though, he was just like me. In fact, he might be worse than me. He dove in so hard and fast that I had to pull back and that is a role reversal for me. He was so fast and deep that I started to feel like I had to push him away just to keep from letting myself be suffocated by his adoration. My problem is, I like being suffocated by adoration. I am telling you, while you may look at this and see crazy, I love it.
From Monday evening through to the time I met him on Thursday evening, he was in constant contact. Texting like crazy, lots of phone calls (5 on Wednesday alone) and tons of indications that he was head over heels ready to find a great relationship.
We spoke about a lot of different things, sex included, and we were on the same page for almost everything. He was so sweet to me and I got text like this from him:
We finally met on Thursday evening at one of the coolest, hard to get into bars in the city. A super luxurious speakeasy that feels like being in your own private library, leather-bound books and club chair as well as an intense selection of whiskey and bourbon.
I arrived first and he kissed me the moment he arrived. Massive sparks.
We spent the next two hours gazing into one another’s eyes. I had to look away several times because I (really) felt like he was staring into me. Silly and ridiculous smiles plastered across both of our faces. Hands intertwined. We were noses apart for most of the evening, heads bent in close and touching one another. Fuck. I was going to fall right into him, I could feel it.
I wanted to. I wanted to believe this was going to happen to me. I wanted to believe it’s possible and that fairy tales do exist. I wanted to overlook the fact that jumping in to deep waters so fast is a field full of red flags. I just want to believe, god dammit. Why can’t it be real?
Somewhere, deep, deep inside of me, I just know it’s not. It never is. The cynic is telling me it’s all a trap or a game or something I can’t identify, but when men jump in this fast, they jump out even faster. I know this. We all know this. While I desperately want to believe in some fantasy world of romance, it just doesn’t exist. There were several times I had to back away, take a deep breath and reset us.
He wanted to know too much too soon. I suggested we wait for some of these conversations. There would be plenty of time if we got to know one another.
The time came to a close quickly and towards the end he pulled me into him closely, had his hands on both of my shoulders and gazed at me intently “Are you ready for this?” I made a joke and replied “ready for what” and he persisted with “are you really ready for this, for us?” We parted with a lovely kiss and went our separate ways with an agreement to see one another the next night for dinner and the opera.
He had asked me to sleep over after opera and I declined. I did acknowledge somewhere in the recesses of my brain that he didn’t like this reply.
I had a lovely commute home filled with the smell of him on my lips and thoughts of him in my head. I was convinced he would be calling me later that evening.
But he didn’t, and I noticed he was back on OKC.
Nor did I get a Good Morning text.
Well, then. Not what I wanted to hear, nor what I expected. I sort of knew, when he didn’t call me in the evening, something was off. This was not a man allergic to over-communication or picking up the phone as demonstrated by his behavior all week.
I admit, I almost cried. Almost. I had just started to allow myself to get excited and hopeful. I had that really hopeful moment. I so, so, so badly wanted it all to be real. Jesus, just for once, I wanted to have that kind of intense romance out of the gate.
But, it obviously wasn’t meant to be. This was the man who went from 0-100 back to 0 in the space of 5 days. Red flags galore.
Now for the game of deciphering dating-text-language.
All of my friends had differing opinions about this text. Some felt like it was disingenuous. Some felt he was honest. Some said block him and don’t engage again. But, M being M, I did, as directly and kindly as possible:
And he replied after some time:
It took me some time to finally send a reply. The text was a massive change in tone from “are you ready for this?” to using the past tense “enjoyed” when referring to communicating with me.
I still wanted to cry, almost. I was upset. I liked this guy. The night before was fantastic. There was no indication of things we didn’t connect on. I honestly don’t know what he is even referring to. The whole message set me off-balance from where we had started.
But, this was the second time in a week that I knew his response had nothing to do with me. This was all about him. I believe that because he didn’t get what he wanted from me (staying over after Opera) he changed his tune. Maybe. Maybe not. Irrelevant either way.
I just decided I wasn’t ready to write him off fully. So I went with the response that offered the least resistance. Simply stating I wanted to see him again. I also admit to playing games at this point. The one text he sent was too full of volatility to let go. He had swung the pendulum too far for recovery in my opinion. I was torn between equal parts of “I know your game, you douche” and “oh gosh, I really liked him, can I fix this?”
The less foolish side of me took over and I decided to play nice, with the intention of getting him to admit he wanted to sleep with me tonight.
Not only that, we played this out in live-time at work. Everyone read and participated in these text.
Did I mention that I am sometimes a 46-year-old woman with the brain of a 16-year-old girl? Yea, it happens. But let me tell you…everyone at work (and there are 7 girls), everyone single one, was in for the tease because they thought he was a jerk.
Now I would see what I would get back if I reverted to sweet, sexy M. No challenge, just totally sexually charged and interested in her man and making him feel like he’s King of the World.
Of course such a simple response elicited an entirely different tone:
Let the games begin (and for the record, even ASV should note I’m not this sappy, ever! IRL):
Here’s the absolute truth under my dilemma.
While you are screaming at me to cut the douche bag loose – I liked him, I can’t help it. I was massively attracted to him. Hell, I can still taste him now as I think about it.
Now that I know what an asshole he is – posing as a loving relationship-orientated gentleman – why can’t I just sleep with him? I finally found a small key within myself and disengaged emotionally from him….by including my friends in the back and forth, hearing others opinions and listening. I realized the guy was simply a jerk and didn’t care about me or my feelings and what’s worse, presented himself as admiring honesty in a relationship.
ASV rightly stated that I am basically rewarding his bad behavior by doing so and in the process, devaluing myself. How was I going to feel about myself after I slept with him?
Here’s what I think happened…during the conversation he asked if he was my type and I replied honestly “no, you are not” and we went on to talk over what’s my type. I made it clear that he fully attracted me and the fact that he wasn’t my type made the chemistry even better, in fact. The second thing was a silly, offhanded sexual comment about “size” and he asked if I was a size queen. While we bantered about this, he stated he was “average size” and asked if that would bother me.
Honestly, I think I put him off….he wanted to be King of the World and he got a nice, honest dose of Madeline instead.
Now, this man is a high-end fashion photographer and he has photographed some of the most beautiful and amazing people in this world. He also owns a fashion and arts magazine. While he was sitting there calling me beautiful and gorgeous all evening, I couldn’t help but think “do I trust this?” If I was dating you for a year and I knew you, maybe I could believe that…but this was a first date and I don’t hold a candle to any model. I am an attractive 46-year-old woman. Sure, I might be above average, but I don’t have a drop dead gorgeous modelesque body and this is a man who is surrounded by it, and, yes, has bedded it more than once. It didn’t sit right with me.
I had said to him, right out of the gate that I thought I could be too prosaic for him. I’m not into the same cultural/artsy activities that he is. While he disregarded this about me immediately, I do think it sank in (probably when he met someone else to flirt with the next day on OKC).
Further, he talked about women quite a bit. The beauty of women. Bodies of women. Shape, size,ethnicity, etc. There were times I had to remind myself that I am fine just the way I am, but this might bother me if I stayed with him. I find it curious (maybe humorous is a better word, actually) that he is put-off that I may not think he is the cat’s meow physically and sexually. I just don’t know.
It’s all requiring way too much thinking too early on. It should be brilliant, light and funny in the beginning. This got too serious too fast and one thing I do know that my mother told me:
Every dog has its bone.
So if I’m not the bone for you, I can go and find another dog who might just think I’m the best bone ever. (pun intended)
I got him to finally come around, quite easily, as you can see in the few text it took to get him feeling like he was in control.
He’s found the perfect lover…… I am pretty sure just 10 text before he wanted to slow down.
If there is a human in the world than can interpret this ridiculous chain of text events, let me know.
He called me a little after that last message and asked what time he could meet me.
I went on my way and enjoyed my Friday evening with friends and a random Bumble date instead.
Fast forward to Sunday and here was our text exchange:
What bothers me most about this exchange is that the words and expressions he uses are entirely thoughtless….he uses familiar speech patterns when he isn’t genuine.
To be honest, I don’t think I will hear much from him again.
I didn’t block and delete him because I am sexually attracted to him and wouldn’t mind a romp.
The Butterflies, fortunately, flew away.
Too bad, back to the drawing board.