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Many years ago, I dated this man; this boy transitioning in to manhood; well, let’s just say, this guy. I call this guy “Batman” because we rarely got out of the bat cave to do anything fun. Don’t get me wrong, we had fun just hanging out, watching movies and enjoying each others company. I just thought that we would be more active outside of the bat cave than we actually were. Anyway, I “dated” Batman for a little over a year. He had a girl that he was dating regularly and we started out as friends. Haha…until…one night we just had so many sparks flying that I just put it out there in the open. “I’m attracted to you, but I don’t want to ruin our friendship.” I said. He agreed. We spent more time together, just chillin’ and getting to know each other, and a few months later, we began a physical relationship. Even though we both agreed to keep feelings and emotions out of it, I knew it was a bad move.
It started out cool. He was honest with me about the girl, or so I thought. “We’ve been seeing each other for a couple of years.” he told me. Huh? A couple of years? And you haven’t committed to her? (i.e. “The Blame Game”) No, he hadn’t. Poor girl. Not only had he not committed to her, but he also hadn’t told her he was boinking every girl that walked into that “den of sin” that he damn near lived in with his friends. No surprise. Why not though? Oh yea, because he didn’t want her to do the same thing. Got it.
Well, as time went on, their relationship grew (though I had no idea know how much), our relationship grew, and the mess grew. For the first few months, he was eager to be with me, hang out, talk, laugh and just have fun. When the lights went off there was a collage of fireworks, passion, lust, emotions and thrilling things that I had never even thought of doing before. (Whooo…excuse me.) As time went on though, he began making excuses for why he couldn’t hang with me or why he couldn’t stay very long after we’d wake up together. I began to see my status slip farther and farther down the “hang out” chain. I also started to notice that he was spending more and more time with “her”. This went on for months and I slipped into an emotional haze; depressed, sad and constantly wondering where this was going and if I was going to get my heart broken. The problem, in my eyes, was that I had broken our agreement. I started catching feelings. Damn. It really confused me. Here, he had a woman that he was not interested in committing to, even thought they had a few years under their belt. And then there was me. The fun, cool, buddy like chick that he had never been exposed to. Having that power, I felt I could shift his attention towards me eventually, and she would just vanish. After all, if he really wanted to be with her, he would not be with me, right? Wrong!
I tried, very nonchalantly, on several occasions to break things off with him, as I had slipped further into my haze, but he didn’t take me seriously. I had put up such a front that he believed that I was fine with how things were. I wasn’t. But I was afraid to tell him just how far down I had sunk. Deeper and deeper into him, and hell. He was a dog. A dirty dog. I knew this. But I still wanted him. Why? If I got him what would I do with him? He would without a doubt, be the same snake to me as he had been to her. So what the hell was I doing?
Time went on and we went back and forth. Off and on. I knew they had been getting closer and hanging out more and more, but he never told me this himself. I just so happened to have a little birdie on my side that made me privy to a lot of exclusive information. Yet, I still thought, “He’ll never take her seriously. They’ll never be together.” Dumb.
After so many months of trying to get up the nerve to tell him exactly how I felt, I decided to let it all out. It had taken over my brain. It was all I thought about. All I wanted to do was see him, be around him, and make him stay with me. But it wasn’t like that. I wrote him the longest letter of all time. Gosh it had to be about 10 pages long. It was the only way was I could get him to pay attention, without jokes and sarcastic comments to deter me. He never responded. Wow. Not only did my lover diss me, but my so called “friend” had forsaken me and our “friendship” without a second thought. Not too long after “the letter”, my little birdie let me in on some exclusive news. Batman and Vickee Vale were expecting. A child?! I was devastated! According to my humming bird buddy, they were actually happy about it and couldn’t wait for their new arrival. WTF! After I recovered from the piano that dropped down onto my head, I gathered up the courage to see him one last time. I wanted to give him a chance to come clean. I thought for sure that he would. He didn’t. Damn, after all the good times, laughs, inside jokes, late night talks, etc. I thought I meant more than that to him. I thought we connected. I was wrong.
Our friendship had gone from all things to no things. What happened to our honesty policy? Why didn’t he just tell me? True, I was in way over my head with this one, and, as many times as I had tried to leave him alone, I never once told him how deeply I had fallen and how much he had affected me. I became a different person. I didn’t even recognize myself any more. After that night, I completely walked away from him and our “situation”, and he abandoned me, and our friendship, and never looked back. (Boo freekin’ hoo.) He was gone. Out of my life for good and I was ambivalent. My guard was back up and no one was going to get in, ever! No friends. No lovers. I lost. She won. Good riddance. I mean, what was I going to do with a guy like that anyway? My brain settled on the notion that she would be the one to suffer with him and for him, not me. Fine.
Years passed and I thought about him less and less. Only every now and again wondering how he was doing, what his child was like, if he was happy with the decision that he made, and, of course, why he didn’t just man up and tell me the truth.
I had this flawless image of them in my mind. This cute little couple with this cute little baby and the perfect parents raising their perfect child together, in love and, possibly, in marital bliss. Whatever.
4 years later I had lived, loved and lost, and it was time for me to start over, again. I sat in my apartment with my new attitude on life and love, and Batman far, far away from my thoughts. Until the phone rang.
It started out cool. He was honest with me about the girl, or so I thought. “We’ve been seeing each other for a couple of years.” he told me. Huh? A couple of years? And you haven’t committed to her? (i.e. “The Blame Game”) No, he hadn’t. Poor girl. Not only had he not committed to her, but he also hadn’t told her he was boinking every girl that walked into that “den of sin” that he damn near lived in with his friends. No surprise. Why not though? Oh yea, because he didn’t want her to do the same thing. Got it.
Well, as time went on, their relationship grew (though I had no idea know how much), our relationship grew, and the mess grew. For the first few months, he was eager to be with me, hang out, talk, laugh and just have fun. When the lights went off there was a collage of fireworks, passion, lust, emotions and thrilling things that I had never even thought of doing before. (Whooo…excuse me.) As time went on though, he began making excuses for why he couldn’t hang with me or why he couldn’t stay very long after we’d wake up together. I began to see my status slip farther and farther down the “hang out” chain. I also started to notice that he was spending more and more time with “her”. This went on for months and I slipped into an emotional haze; depressed, sad and constantly wondering where this was going and if I was going to get my heart broken. The problem, in my eyes, was that I had broken our agreement. I started catching feelings. Damn. It really confused me. Here, he had a woman that he was not interested in committing to, even thought they had a few years under their belt. And then there was me. The fun, cool, buddy like chick that he had never been exposed to. Having that power, I felt I could shift his attention towards me eventually, and she would just vanish. After all, if he really wanted to be with her, he would not be with me, right? Wrong!
I tried, very nonchalantly, on several occasions to break things off with him, as I had slipped further into my haze, but he didn’t take me seriously. I had put up such a front that he believed that I was fine with how things were. I wasn’t. But I was afraid to tell him just how far down I had sunk. Deeper and deeper into him, and hell. He was a dog. A dirty dog. I knew this. But I still wanted him. Why? If I got him what would I do with him? He would without a doubt, be the same snake to me as he had been to her. So what the hell was I doing?
Time went on and we went back and forth. Off and on. I knew they had been getting closer and hanging out more and more, but he never told me this himself. I just so happened to have a little birdie on my side that made me privy to a lot of exclusive information. Yet, I still thought, “He’ll never take her seriously. They’ll never be together.” Dumb.
After so many months of trying to get up the nerve to tell him exactly how I felt, I decided to let it all out. It had taken over my brain. It was all I thought about. All I wanted to do was see him, be around him, and make him stay with me. But it wasn’t like that. I wrote him the longest letter of all time. Gosh it had to be about 10 pages long. It was the only way was I could get him to pay attention, without jokes and sarcastic comments to deter me. He never responded. Wow. Not only did my lover diss me, but my so called “friend” had forsaken me and our “friendship” without a second thought. Not too long after “the letter”, my little birdie let me in on some exclusive news. Batman and Vickee Vale were expecting. A child?! I was devastated! According to my humming bird buddy, they were actually happy about it and couldn’t wait for their new arrival. WTF! After I recovered from the piano that dropped down onto my head, I gathered up the courage to see him one last time. I wanted to give him a chance to come clean. I thought for sure that he would. He didn’t. Damn, after all the good times, laughs, inside jokes, late night talks, etc. I thought I meant more than that to him. I thought we connected. I was wrong.
Our friendship had gone from all things to no things. What happened to our honesty policy? Why didn’t he just tell me? True, I was in way over my head with this one, and, as many times as I had tried to leave him alone, I never once told him how deeply I had fallen and how much he had affected me. I became a different person. I didn’t even recognize myself any more. After that night, I completely walked away from him and our “situation”, and he abandoned me, and our friendship, and never looked back. (Boo freekin’ hoo.) He was gone. Out of my life for good and I was ambivalent. My guard was back up and no one was going to get in, ever! No friends. No lovers. I lost. She won. Good riddance. I mean, what was I going to do with a guy like that anyway? My brain settled on the notion that she would be the one to suffer with him and for him, not me. Fine.
Years passed and I thought about him less and less. Only every now and again wondering how he was doing, what his child was like, if he was happy with the decision that he made, and, of course, why he didn’t just man up and tell me the truth.
I had this flawless image of them in my mind. This cute little couple with this cute little baby and the perfect parents raising their perfect child together, in love and, possibly, in marital bliss. Whatever.
4 years later I had lived, loved and lost, and it was time for me to start over, again. I sat in my apartment with my new attitude on life and love, and Batman far, far away from my thoughts. Until the phone rang.
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