Dating him has been the biggest disaster in the past year and a half, and most certainly one of the biggest romantic disasters that I have ever experienced in my life. He is the absolute worst person that I have dated in the past 1.5 years -- and that is saying a lot considering Gareth and Matt. He is the absolute worst because he is a man who cannot see his own face. He has no idea who he is. He is completely bereft of any sort of critical self-reflective skills and he does not know what he wants. All he can do is write elegant words that are ultimately shit because he simply does not have a fucking clue what he says.
Three weeks ago, I finally made the decision to dump his sorry ass, and he hit me with the following after we parted ways:
This is bullshit. I am everything you think/thought I was. I’ve gone through some issues the past few weeks and I haven’t been perfect, but I am a damn good person, man, and boyfriend. I just needed time to show you, to make it up to you. I know I am better than what I’ve been and it is shit that I cannot prove to you such a declaration. For all the reasons you liked me, I still rise to them, and I will continue to be as such.
I wanted to fight you in the cafe and say “Fuck no.” I wanted to date you. I wanted to have a relationship. Excuse the language, but I wanted to have sex with you because I’m a heterosexual male and I find you attractive. I am everything you believe me to be because I once showed you who I was. I also showed you that I can be fraught with errors in judgment and make poor decisions, but in time you would have known that is the rare version of me, just as you have displayed rare versions of yourself.
So earlier I was pitiful and accepting; I’m now wrought with anger because I wanted this to work and I thought we were on the receding edge of a bad moment in our dating history and that what was to come would be exactly what we wanted and expected.
Ironic, isn't it, that the bold was his original? No, dipshit, you are nothing that I believe you to be. If you truly were the strong and stable sort, you would not have bailed again for the same bloody reason that made you bail the first time: A WOMAN CRYING.
What kind of useless man is unable to deal with a woman crying? More to the point, what kind of useless man is unable to accept that someone who has described herself to him as 'the flip side of an intense high is an equally intense low' is capable of breaking down every now and then, for an entirely valid reason? This kind of man is a shit boyfriend, a shit man, a shit person.
I'm not feeling the spark anymore, he said. But just two nights ago he said yes when I asked if we were on the same page about wanting this to work; just last weekend we had three good dates in a row. So just because I had the audacity, the cheek, to turn to him when I was at my weakest, the spark was gone for him? And once again, it wasn't like this was the first time.
In response to the email that I sent him after he dumped me, he claimed:
I understand that you feel let down by me. You placed a significant level of trust in me, that I would do what is “right” when it comes to a relationship; you assumed any “wrong” would be mutually worked upon. The wrong included communication, specifically the lack thereof and also the malformed communication in those few days (one-sided texts, vague answers…).
I’ve read your E-mail a few times now. There are no counters to be made to your points; you are right. In the midst of goodness, I managed to act as a saboteur and flat-line a relationship in its early bloom.
Many adjectives can be thrown your way, but you know your own qualities. You are deserving of someone who can match you in your greatness and secure you in your lows. I can only say that I regret not doing more to prove that, at some point, you had the right idea about me.
'There are no counters to be made to your points; you are right.' Did he even read it? Can he even read? Here are a few things that I said:
The things that you told me on Sunday—that you thought we were incompatible, that you thought I overreacted and that the event did not warrant such an emotional response, that you were incredulous that I had developed relatively strong feelings in a short amount of time—suggest, quite irresistibly, that you did not take my 1 March email seriously. The very fact you thought I'd overreacted suggests to me that you did not think seriously enough about all the things that I told you in my email. I told you, in no uncertain terms, the person that I am: intense when I like someone, impulsive, quick to anger and slow to forgive, insecure before any explicit commitment has been made, tending to rush towards a new relationship like a high speed train. I literally could not have stated any more unequivocally and clearly the person that I am. If you had taken me at my word, it would not have come as a surprise to you that I had developed relatively strong feelings in a short amount of time. Neither would it have surprised you that your behaviour on Saturday (although it was actually Friday and Saturday combined) upset me to the point of, in your word, overreaction.
'You are right,' he said, in response to the above. There are no counters to be made. So he accepted that he didn't think seriously enough about the person that I am. And yet he wanted to date anyway -- which, to any reasonble person, would suggest that, this time, he has thought about it and decided that it is something that he can live with. But no, how dare I make such a logical inference; how dare I respect his capacity for self-reflection, for simple thought, how dare I assume that he had a brain. And the most hilarious part? My 'meltdown' on Monday had absolutely fuck-all to do with him, or 'us'. It was entirely related to my PhD. I explained this to him and left the conversation thinking we'd ended things on a good note, but apparently, my emotional behaviour killed things for him.
If you truly seriously like someone, and if you truly believe in the non-disposability of the other person’s emotions and experiences, then you don't give up on her at the first sign of something that gives you a bad feeling. Rather, you give her the benefit of the doubt and consider her behaviour not in isolation, but in context: the context of the conversation that we had at the coffee place on whatever evening it was, which you knew had upset me because you said you'd seen it on my face.
'You are right. There are no counters to be made.' No counters to be made to this point, yeah? That means that he agreed that he should give the person the benefit of the doubt. But did he? Hell no. He jumped to conclusions about why I was upset instead of asking me why, or waiting to meet to talk. And he's surprised that we'd reverted to arguing again so quickly?
Above all else, had you not given up on me so quickly and easily, we might have discovered that overcoming these initial obstacles created by a still-superficial understanding of each other would have been worthwhile. Had you taken seriously the singularity and separateness of the person whom you are dating, and hence the singularity and separateness of your experience with her, you would not have bailed simply because your experience with her to date has not conformed to some cookie-cutter template of how a relationship should progress.
He read this and said I was right, no counters to be made; so he agreed with this, right? Apparently not. 'We shouldn't be fighting so much,' he said. 'I don't like it.'
You know what I don't like, Thomas? Men without a brain. Men who don't mean what they say. Men who can't follow through on their words. Men who treat words like crap paper. Men who say a lot and do fuck-all. Men like you, in other words; useless waste of space men like you who know nothing about what they want, what they are, who they are, and purport to be someone that they probably hope to be, but are not. Have I ever been misleading about who I am throughout this shitfest? I have been clear right from the start the person that I am -- and now it's a problem again. Now it's a problem even though you had said, 'I will work on problems like an adult instead of doing the easy thing and giving up.' You said, 'I want a relationship with you.'
You don't know what you want. You're 34 and you have no clue what you want, or who you are. How bloody tragic is that? How ludicrous, how laughable, how sad -- but above all else, why did you have to drag me into your shit? I told you I wanted to stop dating and instead of respecting it... I told you all the reasons I thought we were incompatible and instead of thinking about it... Your knee-jerk reactions have exacted a cost on me.
But like I said at the start, I'm not sure who is the bigger idiot: him or me. Why the hell did I fall for his stupid words? Why did I believe him when all the facts were screaming at me not to? Why was I so in love with the idea of him? Let's put that aside; let's focus on a few lies that I have told myself. I have told myself the magnificient lie that it didn't matter that he didn't really engage me when I talked about many things: my PhD (I don't think he even knew what it's about apart from a basic description of it), the books that I love, my struggles. He just kind of sat there, silent. Sometimes talking to him was like talking to a block of concrete. Why did I want this? What was wrong with me?
This shitfest with him literally ended with a bang. He got out of my room, I followed to close the door behind him, he said, 'Don't follow me.'
I said, 'I'm not following you' and slammed the door in his face.
Good riddance to bad rubbish. I've deleted his number and blocked him on everything, and he's done the same too.
I just want to forget I ever met this person. How laughable that he said we haven't been on dates lately, blah, 'we haven't even had sex'. Wow, really? Who was the one who was always ill whenever I wanted to do it?
I can't even express myself properly. I'm absolutely livid. I cannot put into words how much I absolutely DESPISE people like him -- people whose promises are empty but who make them genuinely because they do not know themselves. They do not reflect. They do not engage their inner self.
I am too tired to think or write proper sentences, so here was what I wrote in my original angry email after he dumped me the last time:
I don’t believe that I have blamed you for much, if anything, over the past two months. But I absolutely blame you for this—for not thinking things through when they were explained to you in a manner that could not have been any clearer. I despise people who don’t think things through because there are consequences for such lack of thought for others. The consequence of your lack of thought is that you were grossly negligent with my feelings and expectations, the seriousness with which I took all of this. You had no excuse—none whatsoever—to be unaware of our incompatibility because it is right there, in black and white, spelled out over 3,500 words. Yet, you carried on, parking the issue to one side, allowing me to continue with my seriousness when it must have been apparent to you that you couldn’t, didn’t, or didn’t want to match it; calling our dating ‘not dating’ (what did you think we were doing, convening an academic discussion group for two? Being friends?) cheapens my experience and the emotions that I had stupidly invested in this. I had done all this and I was so convinced about you because I had mistakenly thought that we were on the same page; that you were the rare man—the real sort—who had the emotional strength and stability to accept me for the amazing but deeply flawed person that I am.
I cannot. I just cannot.
Apart from that crap, I had a really horrible day. It involved a squirrel. It was quite heartbreaking. I don't want to write about it right now.