I had just hung up the phone with my dear mother when I received a message from him on FB. His story seemed comical at first…. Him and his friend getting pulled over by a cop and being asked if they had drugs on them and where his drivers license was, not being able to find his insurance. That sort of thing.
And then it takes a turn when he says, “the funny thing is, when we left we went to another bar and then home ….to get stoned.”
So I’m thinking…this is not actually funny. He’s 31 not 21. And I don’t necessarily feel comfortable talking to him when he is high.
When he senses my disappointment he asks me two questions, “I’ve been high before while we’ve talked so what’s the difference now? Do you think I can’t talk properly?” Followed by “anyway..I should sleep.”
At this point I save myself by telling him he should have fun the way he wants and to sleep well.
He then says “goodnight Lara.” Yes. He spells it wrong.
I can’t begin to explain what this disappointment feels like. All I can say is this: I had just talked up about this man to my mother. I was so excited to explain to her how safe and secure I felt being with him. And within seconds that sense of security vanished.
And yet I still feel as though I am the one in the wrong. Why is that?
If I could have hand written my own life story, he would have said “Lovely meeting you.” Instead of, “When can I see you again?”
For me, his words were half meaningful, half felt, as he opened the door for me and let me step inside a new world. I felt nothing. That should have been the first sign to run in the opposite direction.
So, this man that i am talking about, he chose to believe that we only had a moment in time together and that was all it meant. The days went on and in less than 5 months of our ‘not so committed relationship,’ everything started to fall apart instead of into place. And then i noticed he hadnt kissed me in a while and that bothered me.
And he stopped holding my hand. And holding me. And i realized I was dying inside because i wanted to feel loved more than anything in the world. Not by someone else, but by him.
If someone asked me today if he was cheating on me I wouldnt know the asnwer. Partly because I cant define what we had as a relationship. It was broken and messy and difficult to even call it a friendship. He never took and interest in my life and whenever I tried to ask him about his, he either lied or changed the subject.
I didnt know him. I expected so much out of a man whom i didnt even know.
If i could have written my own life story I would have said, “Lovely meeting you,” instead of, “I like you.”