He's Just Not That into You

I’m sitting at work right now with so many thoughts going through my head and absolutely no meetings or appointments, so a blog entry seemed appropriate.

I just keep thinking about that book (also movie), “He’s Just Not That into You” which is prompting me to evaluate my life. I have a handful more of disastrous dating stories to write about and a bunch of successful dating stories, (although who wants to read about someone else’s successful dates, right?) and yet I keep being drawn to the present. I’m in the middle of a ‘He's Just Not That Into You’ situation and although I know this, I can’t bring myself to accept it. Maybe I need some fantastic friends/readers to advise me on what to do?

As you know, I moved to Monterey approximately four months ago. I've had zero trouble meeting men here, in fact, it seems like for once I have a few too many options… and yet I’m hung up on one particular guy. We’re going to call him Charlie.

I met Charlie at the ultimate dive bar overrun with old drunk locals and hipsters thinking their $5 PBR’s were über badass. I had a friend visiting from out of town and after going to a West Coast version of a diner, a brewery and Monterey’s sad excuse for a night club; we ended up at the seedy dive bar as a last resort for socializing before heading home. We were sitting and chatting at a table when I noticed him across the bar. We made eye contact a few times and I probably gave my poor friend half my attention and vague responses as my eyes convinced him to come over to introduce himself. He brought a friend with him, an older, slightly overweight gentleman with a great laugh and we began to do the awkward background stories. His name was Charlie, he’d been living in the area for years which made him a local now and he’s into film production – which as a broadcast major fascinated me. At some point the jolly friend left and a tiny man from Boston replaced him. The Bostonian got into a fight with the couple sitting next to us and he flipped a girls chair over as a result. She was suddenly sprawled out on the floor, when all hell broke loose. Not wanting to get involved I wrote my name and number down, handed it to Charlie and my friend and I escaped before the fight escalated.

The next day Charlie texted me and we made plans to grab drinks the following Thursday. We met at the same dive bar as before, had a few drinks, and then decided to walk down to Cannery Row. He transformed into my own personal tour guide, showing me historic landmarks and sharing all sorts of fascinating information with me. After a couple hours, we ended up doing a full circle and we found ourselves at my car. We chatted for a few more minutes, very awkwardly, and then he said, “well, goodnight” hugged me and walked off to his car. Yup, you read correctly, hugged me.

The entire drive home I wondered why he didn't kiss me. I would have kissed him, but I've been told I can be too aggressive at times and decided to try letting the man take the lead for once.

When I got home I had a text waiting from him telling me what a fantastic time he had had with me and asking if I was free the following night to hang out again. I worked until 9 and my parents were flying in earlier in the day, but I told him I’d be down for one late night drink and would text him when I was free. We texted for a couple more hours ending with a, “I can’t wait to see you again” text from him.

The next night I ended up leaving my parents by 9:30pm, they were exhausted from their travels and I texted Charlie to find out where he wanted to grab a drink. No response. Not wanting to seem pushy, I didn't send a second text and figured he's respond within an hour or so. He never responded.

Two weeks later I was at a bar with my roommate and some friends when in walks Charlie. Before I could say anything I lost him in the crowd. I was drunk and thought it would be a great idea to text him. He gave me some bullshit story about meaning to text me, blah-blah-blah. I was drunk, therefore I had no filter. I called him out about not texting me back that night and told him that, “I get it, we’re obviously just friends”.  He told me he hopes that’s not true. I stopped texting and took a cab home.

A week later he texts me out of the blue saying that he misses me and really wants to hang out, so I say, “fine, I guess”. We make plans for the following evening. When he texted me at 10:30pm to see what was going on, I chose not to respond.

The next day I went to a Festival/Street Fair in his neighborhood, naturally I ran into him. He ditched his friend and we walked around for a couple of hours talking and catching up; he’s surprisingly easy to talk to and I found myself having a really nice time -  I even began to let my guard down a tiny bit. He introduced me to half the attendees of the street fair, in a "this is my girl" kind of way, which kinda tuned me off a little bit. When he left he told me he would text me later to see if I wanted to hang out. I told him I already had plans, but to let me know if he ended up anywhere fun. No text last night, which was fine, I was busy. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention, this all happened yesterday.

He texted me moments ago saying, “It was good to see you.  Lets hang out soon”.

I’m thinking He’s Just Not That into Me, yet, I can’t stop thinking about him? Why?!

Dating Disaster: Revenge

Yesterday was a very trying day. I had to swallow my pride and hide my true emotions while every fiber of my being was screaming “fuck this shit". I’m not going to give the person who made me feel like this the dignity of having their own blog entry or even a name because, let’s face it, they don’t matter. Not to me or to the world. When people try to get ahead in life by bringing others down, they are nothing more than immature, insignificant people who don’t deserve a second thought.

It took me a few years to learn this, and I haven't always been a pro at hiding my emotions, I even managed to fall out of practice for a few years while living in San Francisco; cities do that to people. Now I'm back to my oh-so-normal self and ready to take on the world.

When I was a kid, my sister taught me how to hide what I was truly feeling. She told me that bullies were looking to make me cry and it would upset them if I kept a smile on my face and acted as though they didn't bother me. Surprisingly, it worked like a charm. If someone bullied me, instead of crying I smiled at them and shrugged it off. The tears came the second I got home and was in the privacy of my room or in the safety of my parent’s arms.

As I grew up I learned to swallow the tears completely, something I learned with my first high school "heartbreak". I was dating a boy named Nat; I was a virgin, he was not. We kissed and cuddled, but I was far from ready to have sex, especially with someone who was as experienced as he was. Looking back, he was disgusting and probably had an STD. We were 16 and he had already slept with at least 8 girls.

One night when we were hanging out with a few friends my best friend Monica proudly announced that she was not a virgin and loved having sex. The next day Nat took me for a walk and confessed that he had a “thing” for Monica and said, “You understand, right? I mean, you’ll hook us up, right?” Yeah, I understood, he preferred the chick who put out-IE, the easier option, not the virgin who was too smart to sleep with a creep like him. My entire body began to tingle, then it got numb as my face began to feel like it was on fire; but I kept a smile on my face and told him I’d see what I could do. When I got home I cried into my pillow for a while, composed myself and called Monica to vent about what a jerk he was. I mean, did he honestly think she’d date him after the way he treated her best friend? She told me that she agreed 100%, her was an asshole and that I could do 1000x better. I'll admit, I felt ions better. The next day at school Monica announced that her and Nat were dating. Again, that stinging sensation coupled with numbness and heat came back. This time there were no tears, only anger. I felt like someone had slapped me across the face and I wanted to return the favor, luckily I was not much of a fighter. I guess she couldn't do any better.

The years following that incident did not include a whole lot of heartbreak or stings from idiots like Nat, but then again I made it a point to initiate the break up’s to save myself the pain that I have experienced with him. When I moved to Santa Barbara I met some very interesting guys. Some turned out to be jerks, others were genuinely awesome people. Most gave me some fantastic dating stories and this is where this particular story turns into a dating disaster.

I met Matt my sophomore year of college. I was living in the big house on Del Playa with 11 other people and having the time of my life. One of my friends at the time was heavy into drugs and drinking. One night, while she was over at my house, she invited her pot guy to come over and hang out with us. He was hot. He had blonde dreads, bright blue eyes and the perfect surfer’s body. We instantly started flirting and my friend did not seem pleased. She warned me that he was from a different world and that we would never be a good match. He was a total hippie stoner; I was an alcoholic. Aren't those things one in the same?

We exchanged numbers and began hanging out, a lot. My friends would come with me to his house and watch him and his roommates play random music for hours (I swear it was way more exciting than it sounds). His friends would come to my house and party with us until the wee hours of the morning. I thought we really clicked and assumed he did too when he finally kissed me. After the kiss he told me he doesn't like to do anything with a girl unless he is in a committed relationship with them and thought it would be best to call it a night. The next night we were having a party at my house. He showed up with a few friends and quickly found me in the crowd asking me to take a walk with him down on the beach. My friends and roommates gave me thumb-up signs behind his back and beamed at us as we walked down to the beach, I was certain he was going to ask me to be his girlfriend. We walked along the water, a good 20 minutes from my house, in deep conversation about life and our morals, blah-blah-blah. When we reached the end of the beach he turned to me and said something I’ll never forget, “Lauren, I think you are a fantastic girl and I really enjoy spending time with you, I just don’t think you’re girlfriend material.”

That stinging feeling followed by the numb body and hot face immediately resurfaced, I still had those painful emotions even after all those years. I wanted to run away or cry or yell at him to fuck off; instead I smiled, thanked him for being honest with me and suggested we return to the party. When we got home he asked if he should leave, I told him “absolutely not” and proceeded to spend the night conveniently in the opposite room from him. Eventually he left and I told my very curious friends and roommates what had happened. Luckily, they were an awesome support team.

A month later I ran into Matt while at the local liquor store. He approached me and asked for a beer suggestion. I told him that Sam Adams Seasonal was my favorite and walked out of the store with the little dignity I had left around him. I got a text from him an hour later asking what I was up to, stating something about missing my company and offering to bring beer if I’d let him come over and hang out. I agreed to this, I was an alcoholic after all and free beer sounded great. :)

My roommates told me I was crazy and begged me to reconsider, asking if I’d forgotten how he had treated me a month earlier. I assured them I was fine with how things ended and that I did not want to have enemy; they looked at me like I’d lost my mind. He brought over a case of Sam Adams Seasonal Mix along with one of his friends. My roommates stayed for most of the night and made it clear they did not like him being there. Eventually they went to bed and his friend left. He ended up spending the night, but I refused to anything more than kissing reminding him of his “no sex while not in a relationship” rule. We began hanging out more and more, he even introduced me to his siblings and sister-in-law. We were practically a couple, having sleep overs and just calling each other to talk. Our sleepovers even became gradually less PG as the weeks passed, I could feel where this was leading fast.

After a few weeks of this he came over to my house wanting to talk. He said something along the lines of, “Lauren, you’re amazing and I need you to be my girlfriend. I need to know that you’re all mine and that I won’t have to ever share you again. I just can't live without you.” OK, I might have exaggerated a tiny bit, but you get the idea. I stayed silent for a minute, thinking. Finally, I looked him in the eyes and told him, “Wow Matt, that’s really sweet, but to be honest...I’m just not sure you’re boyfriend material.”

I knew the look that appeared on his face all too well, clearly he did not have a kick ass sister to teach him how to hide his emotions. First the stingy feeling hit him, then the numb, finally the hot face. He muttered “touché” then something about letting him know if I ever reconsider, then left me to brag to my roommates about how awesome I was hurting him the way he'd hurt me. OK, maybe I was a little harder on him than I could have been, but honestly, I had developed a real allergy to his dreads and was planning on ending things anyway. This just gave me the perfect way to seek revenge in the process.

I ran into him about a year later, we hugged and acted like long lost friends. I think we both realized that we had treated each-other like crap, although I would like to state for the record: He started it.