Good-Bye

Friday Morning, the day after the disaster that was Thursday night, I walked into work with what I would call an 'emotional hangover'. Thank God I already had a Cayenne Kombucha in the office fridge (my personal way of overcoming this awful feeling of exhaustion and upset – sweat it out with spicy black tea and probiotics).

Our office was hosting a massive event for Continuing Education, so I was able to close my office door without seeming rude. However, my coworker who set me up with AM in the first place did come by to ask how the night had went.

“If I wanted to argue with a 46-year-old about his behavior until 1 in the morning, I could have stayed with my ex.” That’s not true, though. My ex isn’t nearly that old and usually behaves impeccably. She apologized for introducing us and setting us up, but she's never dated him, she couldn't know.

On Saturday Evening, I was watching TV and trying new wines with a friend – at 11:15pm I got a text asking how my weekend was going. From AM. Any text after 10:00 pm should probably be ignored, unless it’s your partner, your best friend, or your parents. So I let it go unanswered, and I don’t think I can be blamed for that.

Sunday evening, another text from AM, this time asking if I was alive and where I was watching the Superbowl? Are you looking for an invitation, Sir? I let it go a few hours, said I was busy ‘working’ (working on that blog post about Thursday’s horrible date). He responded “Oh so you’re busy?” Not feeling like repeating myself, I didn’t respond.

Monday – no contact. Thank Goodness.

Tuesday, he called. I watched my phone in horror as his name lit up the screen for a good full minute of ringing. A minute later? I have a new voicemail. Asking what I was doing that night, or later in the week.

I didn't respond.

That night, I had to run an errand out of town and didn’t get home until the State of the Union. I had a couple drinks to lessen the sting. Part way through I get a text, asking if I had received the voicemail.

I’ve been ghosted, I hate it. But I usually accept it. However, more than one cider in, I felt like I should be honest.

“I didn’t enjoy how Thursday night went, and I don’t see this working out. I wish you all the best.”

He asked me elaborate. I thought I had been pretty clear. So now I get to be a bit of a bitch, because the message was pretty clear and kind, all things considered.

“I’m really busy for the next few months. See you around.”

Well… he didn’t take that well.

I don’t need to relay the messages, honestly I deleted them after reading them out loud to my roommate (and removed him from my friends list on Facebook). When the recipient’s phone can’t display the full message and says ‘Click to read more’ – you’ve sent too long of a text. He said he felt he had been very understanding when I was upset; I saw his ‘understanding’ as a truce between us, not as an invitation to keep seeing each other.

I didn’t say that, though. I said simply “Good-bye”.

Another long text message about how one day I’ll find some poor guy to ‘fall’ for my ‘act’. I deleted the string of messages. Did not respond. And quite frankly, he just continued to prove my point.

Middle-aged, still single, never divorced. There’s a reason. And sometimes there are many.