When I write a post about the lessons I learned from dating Montana, this will be included:
Don’t meet up with an almost-ex to discuss your relationship over Sunday morning brunch.
Why not? Here’s what’s bound to happen: You will drink too many bloody marys because you’re nervous. Then, you’ll probably continue to drink because you’re sad. After that you’ll be a drunk flaky sister and keep your brothers waiting at the bowling alley while you beg your roommate to drive your sorry, drunk ass to meet them. Then, you’ll bowl the worst game of your life and continue drinking cheap bowling alley beer. Your roommate will leave you to hang out with her boyfriend and you’ll be alone drinking more beer. You’ll call a couple friends for sympathy but probably embarrass yourself because you’ve been drinking for hours. Then, you’ll pass out only to wake up at 11 pm finding yourself surrounded by tissues and barely able to open your eyes because they’re so swollen from crying.
Yes, that all happened. Yesterday was not my finest day. So, what did Montana say to put me over the edge like this?
I showed up at the bar and Wimbledon was on TV. He could barely tear his eyes from the TV to look at me, but as soon as I sat down he said, “So what happened last weekend?” He was referring to my texting tirade that resulted in our breakup.
I said, “Can we wait to talk about it until I get my bloody mary?” He agreed, but did not order one for himself. He didn’t order anything, just sat and drank water. That really bothered me. Why not have a drink with me? Or at least order something?
So, they we proceeded to chat briefly while I drank my bloody mary, but we mostly sat in uncomfortable silence while he watched Wimbledon. I was getting more nervous by the minute. Waiting to drink before talking was not helpful, it just tightened up my nerves even more.
Finally, I said, “I find it hard to talk to you.”
He laughed and said, “Why? Am I intimidating?”
I almost wanted to cry because I was already getting emotional. I said, “No, I just start to get emotional and then I feel really stupid.”
He said, “You shouldn’t feel stupid about that. If you don’t tell me, then I don’t know.”
“Ok, I’m already upset. Can you please go first? What do you think about last weekend?”
“Well, we saw each other on Thursday night, and I told you I was busy all weekend. I really was busy working the entire weekend on getting my house ready for my friends to visit. So when you texted on Sunday, I told you that I was busy. Then you seemed to get angry and the texts escalated from there. But I really was busy, I wasn’t just blowing you off for nothing.”
I just nodded. I wanted to tell him that I didn’t consider him cleaning his house to be “busy” enough to not be available to talk to me at all for an entire weekend. But I didn’t say that. I rarely told him what I really thought.
He asked, “So, what did you want to talk to me about that morning?”
Finally, I said something that had truly been on my mind. “I was just getting tired of not knowing when I might see you again. When you said you were busy that weekend I didn’t know if that meant that I wouldn’t see you or talk to you at all or if you might want me to help you with some of the house projects. It’s been getting to me for a long time that I never know when I’ll see you again or when to expect to hear from you, so that was all I wanted to say to you at first.”
He said, “Well, I don’t think I’m ready to give you everything that you want and need right now. I think it’s better if we go back to just being friends.”
I stared at my lap and blinked so that I wouldn’t cry. I couldn’t look at him. I felt like he was dumping me, even though I had already dumped him. For some reason, I didn’t expect this from him. I hoped that he might want to work it out and that we’d just had a horrible miscommunication. Clearly not.
He said, “We can still be friends and hang out. I had a really great time with you.”
I said, “I had a good time too. Well, most of the time I did.”
He said, “I just felt like I was frustrating you every week, and I don’t want to keep doing that.”
I just nodded. He didn’t frustrate me every week. More like every other week. But I just nodded and kept staring down, trying not to cry. He was so clearly unemotional and unaffected by the whole thing that I just felt so foolish about getting emotional.
Then, he said the line that I can’t get out of my head. I want to kick him when I think about this. He said, “There’s no reason to be sad here.”
I finally looked at him, but then I just blinked. He did shock me out of my teary state, but put me into an angry one. Of course, I didn’t say anything. I might have muttered a weak, “Yeah.”
For him there was no reason to be sad because he apparently has no feelings. I think it’s sad when you invest time and energy into someone and then find out that it’s not a good match. To me, even a short relationship usually draws a few tears when it ends. I get my hopes up and then want to cry when I’m disappointed.
He changed the subject and we chatted about mundane things like my dog and my air conditioner. Finally, I said, “So, here’s the story that I’m going to tell myself about us: we gave it a shot, found out that we weren’t a good match, so now we’re going to go back to being friends. Does that sound accurate? I just want to clarify so that I don’t fuck with my own head later.”
He said, “Yeah, definitely don’t internalize this and worry about it. Even if it weren’t for those texts last Sunday, I was already kind of thinking that we should probably just be friends.”
Me: “YOU WERE? WHEN?”
Him: “Oh…Thursday night.”
Me: “Ohhhh, I KNEW something was weird that night! Well, that instinct probably contributed to me freaking out on that Sunday.”
Him: “Yeah, probably.” Grrr, I was feeling so annoyed at this point. He WAS about to break up with me the whole time and I sensed it. No wonder he let me do it over text. I twas an easy out for him. God, I wish he’d said something earlier and saved me the struggle and self doubt.
Me: “I’m ordering another drink.”
More pointless chatter…
Me: “I’m texting Roommate to come over here.”
More chatting…
Finally, he said, “Do you want me to leave you to have your third drink with Roommate?”
I was back in the staring-at-my-lap zone, “Yes.”
Him: “Well, give me a hug at least.” I did even though I didn’t really want to.
He said, “I promise I’ll fix that curtain rod for you soon too.” I just smiled because I figured he would never fix it and I didn’t want him to. He hung that curtain for me on the night that I made him a romantic dinner and we had sex for the first time. I was so happy about it because the curtain looked great and I was thrilled to be with a man who was handy. A few days later, one of the screws pulled out of the wall and the bracket is hanging by a thread. The rod is still hanging up but it’s crooked and it looks stupid. I feel like the stupid curtain rod is a metaphor for our relationship. It seemed really great at first, but then it just went wrong and it didn’t work.
I think I’ll ask Neighbor to fix my curtain. 😉
unvanessasary 