I blame the curtains!

Thanks to everyone who supported me last week in my existential crisis. My feelings had been boiling over, and I needed to write them all out. I feel much better now that I’ve pissed my feelings all over. On friends, on strangers and on possible job recruiters who will never ever call me. Aaaaahhhhh. Much, much better. I’m pretty sure this honesty is so freeing because I spent about 83% of my life NOT being honest.

1991
Mom: You want to Pizza or Chinese?
Me: I just want whatever you want.

1996
Friend: Let’s put these jeans on under our jeans in the dressing room and walk out. Nobody will know.
Me: I don’t think we should, but okay.

2000
Boyfriend: Let’s have sex in my car even though it’s 3am and you’re really tired and drunk and won’t enjoy it at all.
Me: I guess if you want to.

I want to go back to my younger self and shake her. It took me a while to figure out how to say ‘NO!’ or ‘I want THIS,’ but I guess that’s part of growing up. Right? We grow up and learn how to talk about where we are in life, stick up for ourselves, and share our emotions. Right? Once we hit thirty we reach a point where we say goodbye to codependence and know exactly what we want and how to ask for it. Right? RIGHT?

No.

The answer is no. Not everyone is comfortable talking about their feelings or communicating their needs. I have become acutely aware of this because, during this stint in psychology school, ALL I WANT TO DO IS TALK ABOUT MY FEELINGS AND NEEDS. So much so that I even annoy myself:

Me: I feel like walking to Subway for a Veggie Delight submarine sandwich.
Myself: Would you like to explore those feelings fully?
I: Yes, as this is bringing up some memories that need to be healed.

I’ve noticed that I’m annoying others too (read: I don’t have friends anymore). Especially men. I guess not all men. I don’t want to generalize here because that’s a cliché, and I hate when I’m a cliché because then I might as well just say ‘Don’t push your luck.’ or ‘Diamonds are a girl’s best friend,’ which I would never say. So, I guess I just mean to say that this one man really hated everything about feelings.

We’re not dating anymore.

We had been romping it up since a wedding in October (Weddings. They ruin everything). And then December rolled around. That meant two whole months of doing that cute smiley stuff like holding hands and overlooking the fact that he used the same sponge to clean the dishes and the countertops.

I decided to have a talk with him about feelings. I swear it wasn’t meant to be the cliché ‘talk,’ because, as stated, I don’t like clichés and I might as well just say that ‘there’s no such thing as a free lunch.’ I naturally wanted to talk about my feelings because, as stated above, IT FEELS GOOD.  It’s nice to let someone know with words that being with them sparks your heart and your groin area. Okay, and I wanted to know if he felt the same way too, which I guess means it was supposed to be the cliché talk. DAMMIT.

We curled up at a dark restaurant and ordered some wine.

“I really like you,” I told him.

I don’t know what I said next. I think I tried so hard to not sound like the typical girl that I sounded exactly like the typical girl. (I never actually said that I was GOOD at communicating my feelings. I just said that I liked it.) So, I spit out some words, and they might have been filled with clichés. In fact, I might have accidentally said that curiosity killed the cat (read: Where do I stand with you?). Ugh.

But, STILL! I was happy that I had gotten out my feelings. There they were. Right on the table next to the hummus dip: I like you. It would make me happy to know if you like me.

His face went flush and twitched a bit.

“I can’t talk about this…. with food on the table.”

He gasped for air.

“I understand,” I pleaded. “It’s okay. I’m going to go to the restroom to give you some air.”

And so I went. And I waited in there for a bit, thinking about how I had just ruined our two months with my stupid rush to be in a stupid relationship. But I had been picking out curtains for our new place in my mind, and you kind of want to know where you stand if you’re picking out curtains in your mind. Or you kind of just want to know anything! Because, as evidenced EVERYWHERE IN THIS BLOG, being honest is oh so freeing.

And then I stepped back outside, ready to tell him we could wait until he was comfortable or go find a location with no food in sight.

But it seemed like he had already done that.

There was our table. It had been bussed and cleaned.

There was no man. Gone.

GONE!

Gone like the wind. Gone like poof!

I stayed calm. He must have been just getting air. He would be right outside the door.

But, NO. No, HE WASN’T just outside the door. And so I thought that he must be by the car because he was probably just excited to get to that new spot so we could talk in a place without food. Yes, that had to be it.

Nope. I got to the parking space and the car that we had both come in was gone.

GONE.

A MAN LEFT ME AT A RESTAURANT!
I stood alone in that empty parking space and laughed. I was trapped in my very own romantic comedy, only the guy who left me did not look at all like Hugh Grant or Matthew McConaughey.

I stayed calm and breathed through it. I called him. He came back. Then he dropped me off and went to a party.

This is the part where I failed: We dated for another month. Yeah, we did. Because I didn’t want to let go of those curtains. Fuck you, curtains.

When we finally broke up, my friend said, “I knew he wasn’t for you when he left you at the restaurant.”

Oh yeah. Me too. But sometimes you fall in love with the headlines: Reunited at a wedding! Guy who can’t explore feelings learns how! Imagined curtains come to life in cute new couple’s home!

Siiiiiigh.

I am taking a break from dating. I’m going to stick with psychology school and be a PROUD cliche who is “working on herself.” If I do ever date someone again, may it be a man willing to discuss feelings at length. It doesn’t have to be every day. It doesn’t have to be about everything. It just has to be in the same room.