Best friend, part 2.
Another one bites the dust.
My last blog post chronicled a failed attempt to have The Talk with The Quarterback [QB]…a guy I’ve been faux dating for approximately 12 weeks. As if that experience wasn’t bad enough from being shot down because he was too wrapped up in the Lakers’ game to focus on a conversation…things have continued to take a nose dive ever since. His last words as we said good-bye Thursday night was, “We’ll talk tomorrow.”
Well not only did he get drinks with colleagues after work instead of making plans to have The Talk with me, but he said he’d call or text later post happy hour. He did not.
Then Saturday came and went…no communication. I had it. This is ridiculous. My electronic elephant in the room acknowledgment on Saturday night to him said, “I’m gonna read between the lines QB. You went drinking instead of making plans to see me. You also didn’t call/text like you said you would. And no word today…”
Yet, it came as no surprise to me when his response oozed obliviousness, “What do you mean? I didn’t go ‘instead’ of talking and have been working on my house all day. Sorry.” He blew my cellular up all day Sunday and I reciprocated with a whole lot of nothing.
QB then texted Monday [allow me to acknowledge the obvious before we proceed further – he rarely ever actually dials phone numbers to engage in verbal conversations] and asked if I was free that evening or the following to get together. I responded that Wednesday would work better. And this next nonsense made my toes crinkle, “Ok. So should we have the ‘talk’ then too? ;)”
Oh hell to the no. Is he actually making light of this?
So now… here we are – D-Day has arrived. And ironically, although we’re still having A Talk, it won’t be The Talk…it’ll likely be The End.
The man clearly has a severe case of Dating Deficiency Syndrome [I’m coining a new term specifically for this obnoxiously annoying conundrum]. I cannot waste another second with someone who does not make me feel like a priority…I spent far too many years in that dynamic and my baby-making eggs aren’t getting any younger either.
Friends who formerly were head over heels for the guy have recently done a sharp 180. Because they watched me go through long-term turmoil with Mr. Ex on & off for years, their collective capacity for bullshit is now nearly nonexistent. Some have said they’re “proud” of me for getting off the QB train – which sorta makes me feel bad in a backwards sorta way. But that is just my own Ego…feeling silly for putting myself in a backseat position in the past…that now when people see me taking a stand in the 1st quarter, it is deemed commendable.
Comrades have also said that maybe by sharing insight with the chap tonight – i.e. taking virtually zero initiative, not acknowledging nice gestures I’ve done, to putting The Talk on the back burner so he could mentally focus on an NBA basketball game one-hour from tipoff – that just maybe he’ll learn from it. That, maybe, the next girl will get a new and improved manfriend because of me.
And that brings me to my next subject.
I’ve had contact with Mr. Ex on several occasions over the last few months. The first encounter was when I drunk-dialed him — thanks to a day-long St. Patrick’s festival that put my liver to the ultimate test, then a very civil [albeit intoxicated] in-person chat at a popular outdoor sporting event, followed by a handful of recent conversations that were prompted by our mutual friend going through distress.
Over the course of these varying dialogues – it has become abundantly clear that the guy is undergoing an unquestionable metamorphosis. He has taken significant steps through personal and professional education & counsel – that even my self-help bookshelf would be jealous. His own buddies have indicated an unprecedented, dramatic shift in his overall frame of mind too. Personally, I have always believed that sometimes people have to hit a proverbial rock bottom in order to finally see the light. And that may in fact be the case with the man I have loved to the core of my soul.
As time has progressed since our dramatic break-up almost 4 months ago, and my extraordinary anger has subsided, I inwardly observed that I genuinely, whole-heartedly wish him the best. When you truly care about someone, it is impossible to wish hurt upon them. While we were together, I always put him before me…sometimes to a fault. But it makes me happy, in an unexplainable dynamic, that he could ultimately find happiness through enlightenment.
One of my favorite expressions that exemplifies this very notion: Once you know better, you do better.
I wish more than anything that I could be on the back end of his new-found relationship rehab discovery. That all of the blood, sweat and tears I invested for the better part of my 20’s could ultimately not have been in vain. But the hard, cold, sobering truth is that even if the man that I would have donated every organ to… has legitimately taken a permanent emotional shift, that same shift will never negate broken trust.
And so… in a few hours as I end a seemingly non-relationship with the QB, wondering if he’ll somehow come out new & improved for the next ladyfriend he encounters…I simultaneously am saddened in a bitter sweet twist, that another ladyfriend will also reap the benefits of my irreplaceable best friend, Mr. Ex.
