Love Labor's Lost

volumes of mis-adventures

Where does the Douche-bag line lie?

on October 16, 2010

I haven’t written in a while, and in all honesty it’s partially because school has been time consuming and partially because I haven’t really found a good angle to write my next entry. The past is something that I tend to replay in my head incessantly, driving any other individual insane, to be sure, but it’s seemingly invigorating and cathartic, not to mention a highly informing process. That all aside, I have not had time to process what is going on in my mind right now, I just need to get it out, because there is a sentiment of rage, mixed with pity, a hint of reminiscence, and a whole dollop of sadness. The guy I have most recently been seeing, that is to say, was seeing last month, let’s call him Silly Putty, finally came clean. His name is fairly emblematic of his personality, morphing and changing, unpredictable, and yet undeniably comforting.

Silly Putty and I met at a wedding, and seemingly hit it off from the beginning. We went on 5 unbelievably amazing dates. On the rector scale of one to unforgettable, 4/5 were off the charts. He was witty, chivalrous, adventurous, lively, exciting, entertaining, rebellious, thoughtful and strong. He was the type of person you could melt into, his eyes were endless green and as you got sucked into the vortex of the beautifully dense forest of his eye, there were orange specks that kept you from escaping into reality. His voice was calming; his embrace consumed the weakest part of your soul, so that you felt stronger than ever. Put simply, I was happy when I was with him, and I felt safe.

That was all a month ago. After my birthday weekend, contact was reduced to a barely noticeable simmer, which really only occurred when I provoked a response. Finally, when my threshold of patience reached its limit, I sent a simple and direct text message. I received a clear and simple response: “I want to keep it at friends.” Apparently, I am fantastic and fun, but a friend is all that merits, the only part of that I can really appreciate is the alliteration, the rest of it seems pretty douche-bag-ish. All those cliché movies, and moments when they talk about the lines and excuses that everyone gives everyone else, the “it’s not you it’s me” type of lines. Why do they wait so long to tell you? Why is it necessary to string you along and have you wondering what is going on? In high school, I can understand, the little synaptically disconnected, emotionally immature, and young kids, frankly, they just don’t know what’s going on with anything, but as adults, we know when we like someone, we know when we want something, and we definitely know when we don’t.

My devised plan for understanding dating ended at date three, and now, I am certain, that it should most definitely always end at three (or when possible earlier). If you are not interested, there is no reason to go on more than three dates. I can forgive a second date that leaves you on the fence, but after the third date, be honest, or else you shall be labeled a douche-bag, a jerk, a squirmy worm with no backbone. The worst part of it all, in my mind is his invitation for friendship, “I really think we could be great friends…” with an ellipsis, no less. What could that possibly mean? So, what have I learned? Or what advice can I feasibly leave you with? Well, this one has me completely stumped. I don’t want to over generalize, all guys are scum…because most likely they are not. I don’t want to comfort you and say it probably won’t happen to you…because inevitably, unless you’ve already found the love of your life, it will. What I can leave you with is this: remember who you were when you met the person, and see what has changed. Hopefully you’re still the awesome individual who was rocking the world for yourself. I’m still in grad school, I’m still enjoying my life path, I still have great friends. I still have adventures to look forward to, upcoming family holidays, and a world waiting for me to change. So, all in all, Silly Putty was just a small distraction in the palm of my hand; fun to have around, but eventually better moments will surface and the silly putty will be put back in its container and YOU will float on.

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One response to “Where does the Douche-bag line lie?

  1. […] of you might remember Silly Puddy. The guy who could have very well coined the term “slow fade” all on his own, leaving me […]

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