|Okay, Greg and I never actually screamed at each other (well, not in person like this), but this is DEFINITELY how I felt when I was around him.|
Sunday, August 19, 2012
Clearly it has not been wedded bliss with Greg, but there I was, trying yet again to forge ahead with him. I made him a nice homecooked meal (+dessert!), and I thought it was a perfectly good evening. Could there still be a chance for Greg and I to work out? I’ve always thought and felt that when it’s the right person, I’ll just know, and that there will be a connection between us. With that said, I’ve also never been very successful with anyone and maybe that’s because of me. Maybe I’ve gotta get rid of this fairytale in my heart and realize that it won’t happen that way. Maybe I’ve been wrong all along, and love will take time to develop. Maybe it really is me. Orrrrr maybe it’s Greg. Reason for this thought? Because apparently it was awkward that, during dessert, we sat across the table from each other instead of next to each other. He told me his feelings about the dessert ‘awkwardness’ during his break up speech to me. Yes, you read correctly. HE broke up with ME.
He cited our differences in how we view situations—you know, I view them sanely and correctly, and he views them with some definite emotional distress. I was incredibly surprised that Greg ultimately stated, “I really just can’t get over what I said to you in those texts. I can’t forgive myself for it. I feel so bad that I said those things to you, I don’t know how I can recover and how we can move on.” Welp. Umm. For once I was speechless. He sounded so genuine that all I could say was, “I know things have been tough. I try to look to the future, and while I wonder what could happen between us, I won’t force you into something you don’t want.” And that was it. He was gone.
I should be relieved that Greg broke up with me (at least he mostly shouldered the blame for it not working out), and, don’t get me wrong, I’m happy that I can go back to being myself. My blunt-no filtered-joking around-self. However, I can’t help but notice that this is another fail. Greg actually wanted me. He wanted to give me the life I’ve always wanted. He was taking things seriously (eek! a little too seriously!) What does it say if I STILL can’t make it work with someone like that? It must be me.
Tuesday, August 14, 2012
Last time Greg and I hung out, his most recent outrageous comment was, “I don’t think what I said to you is any worse than the things you have said to me.” His rationale for this was that yes, he knowingly said hurtful things, but at least he knew they were hurtful. The things I say to him, you know, those really quite insignificant things that he keeps manipulating into whatever drama he wants them to be, are WORSE because I am not thinking about how he will interpret them and therefore I am a worse person because I am not thinking of him. Here’s the thing--I’ll kick your ass and I’m pretty sure there will be no misinterpretation on anyone’s part. I drilled my point to a certain degree because I knew he just wouldn’t see it, but I did make sure to tell him that he completely misreads everything so the only way for me to 'watch his feelings' I guess would be for me to not speak. And that just ain't gon' happen. I don’t intend harm when I say things, but he outright meant to hurt me during the texting war. I’m still not sure he understands what I’m saying.
How? How do I end up with these people? And why? Why do I continue to go out with them? Oh yeah, for the stories. Read on…
To help ease the crazy amount of tension forming between Greg and I, my peace-making gesture was to treat him to a movie. I chose a comedy—since apparently I can’t make him laugh, maybe the guys in the movie will be able to. All was good, and it was great to have a calm evening for once. I guess because I wasn’t talking and so he had nothing to cry about? That was mean, I’m sorry. Actually, no, no I’m not. He deserved it. Anyway, regardless of why it was a nice time, I’ll take it. I even made a good effort to hold his hands and all that other nonsense. It didn’t feel forced which is a step in the positive direction. AND he even laughed! Again, not at my hilarious comments, but at least I know he does have a sense of humor buried somewhere in there.
When the movie ended, Greg and I ended up outside the theater in the town center, pondering what to do next. He asked if I wanted to go back to his house, but I was tired. Well, first honestly: I was getting a little tired of the drive over there. Second honestly: I felt like I had been doing a lot to smooth things over from his tantrum, and I don’t think he was doing enough so why should I cater to him? Third honestly: The movie was good, the night was fine, time to go home. Well, FINALLY Greg interpreted something correctly. He said, “It doesn’t seem like you’re okay from what happened.” Good job, Greggy! Took ya long enough! I told him, “I’m still trying to move on from the things that you said and time will really be helpful here.” The conversation went on a bit longer, but voices were calm, tones were friendly, and I even kept my Italian-flailing hands at rest.
A kiss good-bye and I was on my way home. He does have a lot of great qualities, and I really like that he’s looking toward the future (in terms of having a family) which is unlike pretty much every other male creature in the DC area. He’s a hard worker, has a nice group of friends, close with his siblings, outgoing, masculine (minus the whole crying and can’t-take-a joke-thing), and I think he does have a good heart, it’s just a little messed up at times. When I arrived home, I saw this text: “I thought things were going fine tonight at the movies, but then we were standing there outside the theater arguing. And then it ended awkwardly.”
Oh, s*** Greg. You need some help.
Thursday, August 9, 2012
Well, now I’m glad I brought Greg pizza and apple pie, and I hope I made him fat! These are not the words of a sweet girl, dating the guy of her dreams. These are the words of a frustrated girl who sat through a tirade of assaults and who now wishes weight gain upon her assaulterer as revenge. This is what went down: I took a couple nights to visit with friends, and then on the day that I was supposed to see Greg, I got sick. Once I started teaching after college, my immune system has grown to hate me so this isn’t unusual, especially after coming off of a trip. After apologizing and telling him I needed to get better, the beast was unleashed. His beast, not mine. I remained a beauty. Oh, and true to the story of my life, this whole debacle begins through text messages (*&#$^@*)
Greg’s claims are that I’m spending all my time with my friends, I’m never with him, I’m not affectionate, (geeze, is this topic REALLY coming up again? Please refer to this post for a refresher of my past demons) we have to do everything how I want, I’m selfish, I say mean things to him, but really, in general terms, he flipped out. When I suggested that we talk this through on the phone or in person--I offered to drive out to him--instead of texting (@(*#&@) like 15 year olds (okay, I know I know, that EVERYONE texts now, but I still firmly believe a phone call is in order when there is a legit argument occurring between two adults) I was met with yet more backlash. My suggestion cultivated a response of, “We always have to do things on your terms!” My terms? Yeah, because my terms are that of a sane, responsible, non-dramatic adult and because my terms are awesome. They’re also unselfish and un-everything Greg said about them and me. Insert allusion to tears—on his end, not mine—and more insults—again, from his end, not mine. Honestly, I felt a little bit bad about myself after he said these things, but that feeling quickly dissipated when I realized that he’s crazy and makes no sense.
After a couple hours of texting, (!@^*&^@#) he extended the invite for me to go over to talk in person. Yes, he behaved like a jerk, and yes, he should be the one kissing my ass to make up for it, but we all have our moments, and I much prefer to know that I put in every effort to make something work until I know it’s totally done. Not many words were spoken when I went over…I didn’t want to rehash everything that had just been said, but I tried to make my points again, and mostly focused on the fact that he is twisting what I say and that he is a bit needier than what I feel like I can handle (I did use nicer words than this, I’m not a total jerk).
He seemed to understand that I’m not out to get him, and he started to make a good turn around until he said: “I don’t think what I said to you is any worse than the things you have said to me.” Ohhhh sweet child, I’ll see you in court.