I dated a guy who was a bit of a handful. His emotional stability varied hour by hour and often swung wildly between loving euphoria and numbed depression. We broke up, got back together, broke up, got back together ad nauseam for more than a year and a half. It only recently ended when I received several text messages asking for my hand in marriage.
"Taking new course, trying somethin new. Marry me. I love u, want 2 be with u 4ever." Sent 6/22/08 at 3:32 A.M.
My response:
"Um. How is that helpful? We can't even talk without fighting." Sent 6/22/08 at 9:15 A.M.
His response:
"Nono. We fight cause we're not 2gether. When 2gether, all good." Sent 6/22/08 9:21 A.M.
My response:
"No marriage. We learn how 2 talk 1st. B friends." Sent 6/22/08 at 9:45 A.M.
Nothing for a few days, then a phone call...We tried to carry on a normal conversation, how's your day what've you been doing blah blah blah, but it inevitably nose-dived into the dreaded territory of us and why I "won't step up and be his girlfriend." The call ended in tears and "have a nice life" type of ironic sarcasm.
Loving him has been a bit like loving bread with a gluten allergy. I know I shouldn't talk to him, text him, or see him and can go several months without...long enough to forget the queasy, painful feelings leftover from our interactions. Then wham! I take a bite and it's heaven. At first. We laugh and do the silly giddy talk you do when you first fall for someone, playful, coy, teasing, sexual, etc. But that only lasts so long. We've gotten to the point where it takes 20 minutes or so for our conversations to turn ugly. We made it about 12 minutes that call before it went south. A new record for us.
A week later, the really fun texts started:
"Fuck u whore." Sent 7/4/08 at 11:48 P.M.
"Eat shit and die. U slut." Sent 7/4/08 at 11:50 P.M.
"When u finally get AIDS u'l desrve it. Fuck u." Sent 7/4/08 at 11:53 P.M.
"U'l die alone. Deserve 2." Sent 7/5/08 at 12:48 A.M.
"Ur a stupid whore. U never loved me. Ur full of shit." Sent 7/5/08 at 2:32 A.M.
That pleasantry continued steadily for three days or so. In total I read about 30 texts about my alleged promiscuity, inability to love and selfishness, among other not-polite-for-public-blogs topics. Then nothing. I went solo camping the next weekend to clear my head and returned to some more texts:
"I want u 2 no this plan of u hating me sucks. I've been puking for 4 days." Sent 7/13/08 at 1:49 P.M.
"Can't stop puking. Stomach hurts." Sent 7/13/08 at 1:49 P.M. (I turned the phone back on at that time, so got them all in a row.)
I didn't respond and a day later, I received a text saying his dogs said hello.
At least they're still nice to me.
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3 comments:
It's such a good thing I don't know where he lives. Because, speaking of taking out the trash ...
Such a well walked path. Why does the pain run so closely with the pleasure. Run! Run away quickly!
I don't know which is more disturbing: his use of tween web-speak or his attempts at manipulation.
I would recommend a good counselor to him and then change my phone number.
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