I recently went on four dates with someone that I like a great deal. Last night’s date confirmed what the previous evening began to suggest – he is not the guy for me. I am chalking the situation up as a positive one. The biggest positive is that it took just one week of dating to confirm that the guy is not for me. This is much better than spending a more significant amount of time and becoming more emotionally invested. The other major positive is that I did manage to date an honest human with clear priorities and ideals. Perhaps, this is the most important aspect of it all.
So, what is wrong with him? That question in and of itself is wrong. So, what is wrong with me? Again, that is the wrong question. The question is, what is wrong between the two of us together? I do not think that there is anything wrong with him, and I do not think that there is anything wrong with me. I think we are just not a fit for one another. I am pretty sure that there is a book about this called, The Languages of Love. I really need to read that book.
Our last communication is in the form of a text message from him:
“Since I made fun of you…which I have no idea how…you thanked David twice for dinner.
I thank you for top golf. You never once thanked me for anything.
Thank you for another lesson.
I shared just the text with my sister, and her response, “he’s passive aggressive as fuck for someone in a new relationship.”
I love my sister for being on my side, but I appreciate that her assessment is without context. So, let’s put the context around it before we decide who is right or wrong.
On Valentine’s Day, we each sent one another a card and a small gift. He went the extra mile in taking time out of a busy workday to drop my gift off at my house, and to pick up his own gift. I think that we both did a good job of selecting gifts. Despite a ridiculously stressful day at work, I was on cloud nine. I have felt that way since our first date a week ago. Of all things, handwritten in the card that he had given me, it said that he looks forward too many more Valentines Days together. Me, the girl that prides herself in being forthright, and unafraid to express herself, had wanted to write the same thing in the card that I gave him. I did not because I was afraid of scaring him away. The fact that he had the guts to say want I wanted to say, but was afraid to say, was a huge turn on.
Things went awry arguably because of Houston traffic, but realistically because we are just not a fit for one another. I was supposed to leave work at three that day, and Brainy Bird was supposed to leave the house at three to go to his UIL Computer Science competition. This meant that Little Chirp would only be at home alone for about an hour. Instead, I left work much later, and Brainy Bird had left the house earlier than planned because he wanted to get to the competition and have a little time to think before the competition.
By the time I finally got home, Little Chirp had been home alone for hours, and he was hungry. I opened my Valentines Day gift, and it made me smile. I took a picture and I sent it to the gift sender. I imagined what my words would be to him later when I had downtime to think, kind meaningful words. Then Little Chirp and I rushed off to dinner to be the Valentines Day dinner rush. We did not exactly beat the rush, and dinner took a considerable amount of time. This was further compounded by a ridiculous amount of traffic. By the time we got home, I was not feeling well physically, but I felt warm and happy inside.
When we got home, I asked Little Chirp if he wanted to have computer time, or if he wanted to watch TV with me or play a board game. I secretly hoped that he would choose computer time. I never want him to choose computer time because I want him to spend time with me. This time was different as I was crafting something special in my head for my Valentine, and I wanted time on my own computer to write.
Instead, Little Chirp chose TV time. He loves to watch true life crime stories from the past to see how life was different before the technology era that he was born into. I really enjoy this time too; it certainly leads to interesting conversations.
This is where things fell apart, my Valentine texted me to let me know that I had not said thank you for the gift that he had given me. I had to look back at the text messages, because in my head I most certainly said thank you; he had made my heart so happy, how had I not said thank you? He was right, I did not say thank you. He made me feel like complete crap. I am usually more articulate, but that just sums up how I felt. I literally felt like crap; I felt sad, deflated.
After Little Chirp went to bed, I thought we had talked things out. I thought that he understood that my language of love is that of action, and that words that people say by default do not have a great deal of meaning to me. I also thought that he understood that I truly felt bad, as in less of a person, for not saying thank you. I thought that we had put the misunderstanding to rest.
To the contrary, last night he arrived for our fourth date after having a few drinks, which I think may have been part of the problem. I do not have a problem with people drinking, but our ability to read one another deteriorates with the consumption of alcohol, so we started on a less than level playing field. He brought the whole Valentine situation up in a multitude of ways, as if to make fun of me, before we even left the house. Then at some point early in the evening, he made a point of telling me thank you for treating him to TopGolf in a way that dripped with disdain, mocking me, as if to suggest he was so much better in the dating the world than I am.
He is not better than me, and I am not better than him. We are simply different. It is in my nature to show someone my appreciate with action, not words. Yes, you can read something into the word “action”. In contrast to my action-based communication style, he uses words, this is literally just a different communication style. He has his sensitivities, and I have mine.
For example, I am sensitive about being interrupted when I am telling a story. My life is not interesting, and my stories are truly boring, and I get that, but I still want to talk about my kids, my friends, my three cats and my doggie. A multitude of times last night, he interrupted me to make a stupid, obvious joke. I became acutely aware that he was not listening to me. I would rather be listened to than thanked, and he would rather hear the words thank you. Again, no one is right or wrong, we are just different.
I am not sure why I feel the need to defend myself, but I did tell him thank you several times last night. I don’t think that he was listening; moreover, when I said thank you, I certainly meant it, but I felt like I was being controlled by him into saying it. This does not work for me.
The night ended with me trying to kiss him warmly and him holding his hands behind his back. Of course, I found this to be hurtful. I flashed back into my mind early that evening when he explained to me that him and his good friend like to make fun of people they see at the bar, and I felt like I was being made fun of. I was done at that point. I told him so, and he left angrily slamming the gate on his way out. He called, and I intentionally sent the call to voicemail to express refusal of the call in contrast to it simply being a missed call. This led to our last communication, the text message:
Since I made fun of you…which I have no idea how…you thanked David twice for dinner.
I thank you for top golf. You never once thanked me for anything.
Thank you for another lesson.
The last communication, which you now have context on.
One of the most important things to know about dating – dating is not about who is wrong or right; it is not about one person being better than the other. It is about two people being right for one another, and I simply have not found that person yet, but something tells me that I will.