“Look, be straight with me here. Do you want to see me again? I’m guessing not…”
I’ve been messed around before. Numerous times. I know the drill by now. Guys promise you the world to get what they want. They keep you hooked, pay you just enough attention to keep you thinking they’re into you, but they’re non committal. You don’t hear from them when they’re thinking of you, because they’re not thinking of you. You hear from them when they’re bored and they want more. They don’t make plans in advance; if they do, they flake on you if they can’t be bothered with the hassle or if they have a better offer. They often don’t bother to let you know. Forgive me for fearing the worst when this is classic manipulator behaviour.
He got offended when I asked. Sha. Right. As if he didn’t want to see me again! Because not getting in contact, FORGETTING OUR DATE and No Plans Made to see me again is entirely the behaviour of a man desperate to see me.
I left it open for him to make plans with me, giving him the benefit of the doubt. I trusted him on Sunday when he said it wasn’t casual, all that intimacy and affection has to mean something, doesn’t it? I hope so…
I couldn’t get some very important words out of my head, though.
“If he doesn’t talk to you, He’s Just Not That Into You.”
“If he forgets about spending time with you, He’s Just Not That Into You.”
I made sure I kept myself busy on Saturday. I couldn’t sit at home and mull it over any more. I went to the gym, I had a free tango class (awesome!) and I had work. I didn’t hear from him Saturday either. I can’t say I expected to…I thought I’d give it another shot though; inspired by tango class I checked out local dance classes; a salsa class was happening on his day off, so I asked him if he was free that day.
No. No, he’s going to London for 3 days including the day I specified. There’s some news! This is brand new information! I’m frustrated and annoyed he didn’t bother telling me about this nugget when I suggested he make some plans to see me. The benefit of the doubt is wearing thin now, but I think fine, OK., find out when he’s free, we’ll go from there.
“Not sure when I’m free next…will let you know…”
Stunned somewhat, and yet not quite surprised, I decide enough is enough. I’m being well and truly blown off. So, I tell him.
“Dude. Whatever. I’m Done.”
And he’s pissed. He’s really, really pissed. He misses the point. He thinks I don’t believe he was working. Then he thinks I’m blaming him for having to cover a shift which was a problem for our forgotten plans that night. Then he can’t comprehend why I don’t understand him forgetting our date, as I should know what it’s like, having a terrible memory myself. Forgetting, yeah it’s a big deal, but I don’t think that was the most upsetting part. I don’t know about other people, but when I forget something like hanging out with someone, especially someone that I like to be with, I’m embarrassed, frustrated and angry with myself, I apologise profusely and I promise to make it up to them, and I do make it up to them. None of that happened…
Actions speak louder than words, I tell him. All I’ve had in the past week is blow-off behaviour and no contact. I can’t be wasting my time dealing with a guy who can’t or won’t see me. I can have the same effect; being alone, by myself without the stress.
He gives some explanation, and I begin to melt a little. Maybe I was wrong? He’s really upset that I didn’t believe his intentions were as he said on Sunday, that he really liked me, that he really wanted to see me again. I explain my rationale; he didn’t get in contact, he hasn’t made plans with me, and he forgot our date and every time I suggest for him to make plans with me, or attempt to make plans with him, it’s blow off behaviour without explanation. No “I’m so sorry baby, I’m really packed this week, can we make it next week?” No “This sucks, but my rota is going to be unpredictable when I come back from London, how’s next week instead?” This, to me, means I’m being messed around. I tried, and succeeded, I think, to be reasonable and rational throughout the argument, but he wouldn’t have any of it. I’m “way over-reacting”. It all ends the same way, doesn’t it? The only explanation…
“Women are fucking insane!”
So, here we have a week in the life of a sane, rational twenty-something girl who was on the verge of psychosis. All it takes is your words and body to say one thing, and your behaviour to say something completely different.