I give up. I quit. I’m taking a man-batacle (a term wittily coined by a friend and colleague who ended up in the same fed-up place as me several months ago).
Maybe there isn’t actually a lid for every pot, as the saying goes. Maybe some people are just meant to live out their lives a little differently, alone and available for others to lean on, hang out with, call on for babysitting.
Maybe my purpose in life is just to be the best babysitter and auntie on this side of the Atlantic!
All I know for sure is that there’s only so much disappointment that one gal can take.
My most recent dating fiasco, the one that has prompted this all-systems-shutdown reaction, was confusing and disappointing beyond belief and clearly I didn’t come equipped with the correct decoder to make sense of the strange man-haviour.
Our first date was a coffee date and we hit it off immediately. He was funny, smart and even a little bit dorky: all good signs.
Since it was Canada Day, we then took our date to my apartment’s rooftop patio where we sat on a bench and watched fireworks in the neighbourhood. We chatted and laughed some more and then he started to become a little intense. He was gushing all over me and couldn’t stop telling me how beautiful and amazing I was (not the worst thing to have to endure!) and soon got on to the topic of marriage. I thought this was a bit much for the first date, but decided to let it go and just enjoy the moment.
Our second date started off slow ( I guess I was a little weirded out by the intensity of the first one and wanted to be cautious), but it ended off well with some ice cream, a wander through Yorkville and then a nice goodbye kiss.
Over the next few days he was away for work but he called every day and we talked for several hours at a time. I had so much fun talking to him and actually started to think he might be someone I could get serious about.
He became more and more intense during these conversations, talking about marriage and about how perfect I was for him and how beautiful, wonderful and amazing I am.
I kept telling myself just to enjoy the kind words and not get freaked out. But I started feeling concerned when the conversations took a turn and he began to focus on sex, talking only about how much he wanted to sleep with me. At first I just laughed it off but then it started to bother me.
When he returned we went on another date, a movie date, and he was still very intense. He held and kissed my hand throughout the movie, had his arms around me constantly, and stared lovingly into my eyes when we went for a drink afterward. I felt a bit uncomfortable but still decided to let it go. This is what I want right? A guy who really likes me, not some cool jerk who can’t express himself.
Our fourth date was where it all came crashing down.
It was a Thursday night and we hadn’t made plans to get together, he had a class and I had an appointment. However, he called around 10 p.m. and asked if he could come and see me. Up until this point we hadn’t had any ‘at-home’ dates even though he’d been pushing for it since date #1. But I’d wanted to hold off on the inevitable for as long as possible.
I gave in at this point and told him he could come over and hang out.
I kind of stupidly assumed we’d actually be hanging out.
But from the moment he walked in the door he was all over me. I laid some ground rules which he didn’t really pay much attention to. He was pushy and aggressive and it all ended with me having to push him off me and say “Stop!” three times.
I wasn’t so impressed but still, in between the pushy parts, he was sweet, complimentary and caring. Or so it seemed.
When he was leaving he told me he’d call me Monday (he was going to be away for the weekend but I wasn’t sure why that meant we wouldn’t talk for the next four days, it didn’t seem to be an issue the last time he went away).
Still giving him the benefit of the doubt, I texted him the next morning to say have a good day and ask what time he’d be leaving. He was very abrupt and curt in his response.
Finally I texted saying, “Okay, have a good weekend, talk to you soon” but got no response.
In fact, I haven’t heard from him since.
And so my man-batacle begins.
What does that mean exactly, you might be asking?
I'm not sure yet, but basically all I know is that I intend to live my life man-free until further notice.
