What a Week -- and Not Necessarily a Good One
I've been back on Match now about a week, give or take a few days. Things started off as they normally do: a creeper or two who "wink" at me every chance they get somehow knew I was back on and "winked" at me again; I read through dozens of profiles with grammatical errors and misspellings and exclamation point abuse (ironic since almost every guy says they are "laid back"); I marveled at how a gentleman easily 60+ pounds overweight considers his body type to be "about average" (just try doing that as a woman. Double-standard, anyone?). I was reminded that even though a guy may "wink" and "favorite" you, he will not necessarily reply to an email. And I started chatting with a guy which proceeded to texting and then to setting up a date.
Initially, the date request came a week ago on Sunday. We had just started texting, and I said it was "wine o'clock". He said, "Don't drink alone! Meet me somewhere!" Well, first, TOO SOON, and second, I was already in my pajamas. I don't care that it was 5:30. I suggested we meet for a drink on Tuesday evening. He agreed, we set a time, he suggested the location.
Monday we exchanged a couple of texts, both saying we were looking forward to seeing meeting each other. Nothing earth-shattering. Tuesday, the day of the date, he texted first. Around 2:30 he asked about my day, and said his was "like a runaway train". Later, about 5:30, he asked what my work status was -- I wouldn't be getting off work until around 6:15. I told him I was on schedule, and he asked if we could possibly push our 6:45 date back an hour. I said "7:45?" which he confirmed, and I said, sure. I then said, "If you can get there sooner, just let me know. I literally live about 5 minutes away." He said, "I will!"
That was the last I ever heard from him. Because he stood me up without a word.
The emotions that went through me I can still even now barely comprehend. It wasn't as if I had been the one pushing for the date, knowing in my gut he wasn't into it. I was shocked, stunned. I was hurt. This was first for me. I was angry. I took solace in the outpouring of my friends, who shared my sadness and anger. I shed several tears, and had a couple of stiff drinks (safe to do because the next day I had off).
Why did it hit me so hard? Because it was a first time being stood up? Because I can't tolerate rudeness, and to not even so much as text to say "I'm not going to make it" irks the very core of my being?
I suspect part of it was other factors contributing to a difficult week. The holidays are usually a rough time for me. My parents live in California and I'm not super close to my extended family here in the area. Those who know me personally know my mother has both chronic acute pancreatitis and non-Hodgkins lymphoma. Usually she ends up in the hospital during the holiday season. With her never-ending battle against the bacterial infection c-diff, this holiday season will probably be the same. Last Christmas, the doctors were telling my father to make sure Mom's end-of-life paperwork was in order.
Normally, I spend Thanksgiving with my local extended family. This year, a variety of situations made a family gathering implausible. There was no way I could get home to California. D had cut me out of his life completely. I knew I would be alone on Thanksgiving, and I had also come to the conclusion that, although I had hoped, I will not be traveling home for Christmas, either.
Not a stellar week.
I'm half-heartedly texting with a gentleman from Match, and I don't think this will go anywhere. I'm not sure of the attraction, although I'm curious about how he came to be a pork-eating Jew. Earlier tonight I told a guy to stop messaging me; there was a reason I hadn't replied to his first two messages. Unlike when I first started, I didn't sugar-coat anything. "The interest is not mutual. That is why I didn't reply to your first two messages. Please stop messaging me."
As one guy's profile said, "Match: where the people you want won't reply, and the people you don't want won't leave you alone." Truer words were never posted.
Initially, the date request came a week ago on Sunday. We had just started texting, and I said it was "wine o'clock". He said, "Don't drink alone! Meet me somewhere!" Well, first, TOO SOON, and second, I was already in my pajamas. I don't care that it was 5:30. I suggested we meet for a drink on Tuesday evening. He agreed, we set a time, he suggested the location.
Monday we exchanged a couple of texts, both saying we were looking forward to seeing meeting each other. Nothing earth-shattering. Tuesday, the day of the date, he texted first. Around 2:30 he asked about my day, and said his was "like a runaway train". Later, about 5:30, he asked what my work status was -- I wouldn't be getting off work until around 6:15. I told him I was on schedule, and he asked if we could possibly push our 6:45 date back an hour. I said "7:45?" which he confirmed, and I said, sure. I then said, "If you can get there sooner, just let me know. I literally live about 5 minutes away." He said, "I will!"
That was the last I ever heard from him. Because he stood me up without a word.
The emotions that went through me I can still even now barely comprehend. It wasn't as if I had been the one pushing for the date, knowing in my gut he wasn't into it. I was shocked, stunned. I was hurt. This was first for me. I was angry. I took solace in the outpouring of my friends, who shared my sadness and anger. I shed several tears, and had a couple of stiff drinks (safe to do because the next day I had off).
Why did it hit me so hard? Because it was a first time being stood up? Because I can't tolerate rudeness, and to not even so much as text to say "I'm not going to make it" irks the very core of my being?
I suspect part of it was other factors contributing to a difficult week. The holidays are usually a rough time for me. My parents live in California and I'm not super close to my extended family here in the area. Those who know me personally know my mother has both chronic acute pancreatitis and non-Hodgkins lymphoma. Usually she ends up in the hospital during the holiday season. With her never-ending battle against the bacterial infection c-diff, this holiday season will probably be the same. Last Christmas, the doctors were telling my father to make sure Mom's end-of-life paperwork was in order.
Normally, I spend Thanksgiving with my local extended family. This year, a variety of situations made a family gathering implausible. There was no way I could get home to California. D had cut me out of his life completely. I knew I would be alone on Thanksgiving, and I had also come to the conclusion that, although I had hoped, I will not be traveling home for Christmas, either.
Not a stellar week.
I'm half-heartedly texting with a gentleman from Match, and I don't think this will go anywhere. I'm not sure of the attraction, although I'm curious about how he came to be a pork-eating Jew. Earlier tonight I told a guy to stop messaging me; there was a reason I hadn't replied to his first two messages. Unlike when I first started, I didn't sugar-coat anything. "The interest is not mutual. That is why I didn't reply to your first two messages. Please stop messaging me."
As one guy's profile said, "Match: where the people you want won't reply, and the people you don't want won't leave you alone." Truer words were never posted.
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