The art of f*cking up

I try really hard to not make the same mistake twice. My mom always said if I got in trouble for something I never got caught doing it again. Is this meant to say that I never did that thing again? Or that I never got caught again? Who’s to know?

I’d like to think that I never did that wrong thing again, after all I am a rule follower by nature but if it was fun, I may have just learned to avoid detection in future attempts.

Last night my knee was feeling pretty good. If you’re lost as to why I have yet another mobility issue going on, please read my last post So this happened to read about my latest injury. So I was feeling pretty good, my knee swelling was down and I was even able to bend it a little. I probably got a little too cocky, attempting to sleep on my side with my knee slightly bent and this morning here we go again, knee swollen, stiff, pain back up to tears level. I wish I could say this is a mistake I’ve only made once but it’s a reoccurring cycle in my life. One step forward, do too much and here we are, a couple steps back.

Recently I made a mistake in dating. I went on a date with a nice man…let’s call him The Silver Fox. He is retired and new to the area having lived his entire life back east. We met on a dating app and he invited me to dinner. We had a lovely time, he was a gentleman, and the evening ended early with a hug and nothing more. The follow up texts started the next day and there were a few red flags of neediness and personality traits that rubbed me the wrong way, he drinks more than I’m comfortable with and he got a little butt hurt if I didn’t answer his texts promptly. He asked me out again and I politely declined, being honest that I didn’t think it was a match and I’d rather not see him again.

Things should have ended there. He had other ideas, however and reached out after several days asking to give him a second chance, explaining the personality traits as a goofy sense of humor and he wanted another run at it. I agreed. This was where I f*cked up, of course. I should have stuck with my initial impression of him and said no. We went on two more brief dates and each of them ended politely but there really wasn’t a spark for me.

Here is where things get strange. The Silver Fox likes his drink as I’ve mentioned. Some of us have the unfortunate habit of tipping the bottle a little and thinking it’s a good idea to text the object of our affection at inappropriate hours of the day or night. Others of us wind up on the receiving end of these text messages at midnight. I was the unfortunate recipient of several text messages which included ideations of us being a couple and how many dates it would take to solidify that coupledom, plans for the future that we had never discussed on our brief dates and requests to see me in the future.

Can we see the red flags here?? We’d been on three dates. Three!! A little bit of kissing but that’s it. Nothing else. I pretty quickly reverted to my previous summation of The Silver Fox and told him I can’t see him again, he’s moving too quickly and I clearly don’t have the same feelings for him that he has for me. I was direct, I was honest and I was clear. I don’t desire a relationship with you. Period. End of sentence. I then refused to answer any future text messages.

We should be good, right? Moving on, everyone understands the state of things here. Or do we?

Apparently not. Wednesday of this week there are flowers and a singing teddy bear delivered to my office. The teddy bear sings Elvis Presley’s “Let me be your teddy bear” and the card says he would like us to be friends and not look for anything else. Mixed messages much?? A singing stuffed animal asking to be my teddy bear but the card says let’s just be friends. Thank you, no.

Frankly, it’s a little creepy. I wonder if he thinks I’m just playing hard to get? I’m absolutely not playing anything and he’s trying to force some kind of communication, a thank you, an agreement to see him again, to be friends, to give him access to my life. I don’t enjoy being forced to do anything. So I made the choice to not acknowledge any of it. I took to Twitter, under the guise of “asking for a friend” and posed the scenario; is it rude for someone to not say thank you for a gift that was sent from someone who has been told twice that the recipient no longer wants to see them? I received several responses all saying the same thing, he’s trying to force communication, this is a love-bomb, he needs to get the message, it’s rude to send a gift to someone who you know doesn’t want to see you anymore in an attempt to sway their choice. So, in short, no, a thank you is not required.

The polite woman inside me clutched her pearls a little not sending a thank you, it’s only polite, and I’m a rule follower at heart. The independent Xena Warrior Princess in me, however bitch-slapped Ms. Cleaver and told her to sit down. We don’t negotiate with terrorists, honey.

I think part of me is writing this post as a form of documentation. In case things progress outside of my ability to mitigate them, I’d like there to be a documented account of what’s happening thus far. Call me crazy, paranoid, overly cautious or call me prepared, I don’t care. I’ve also sent his contact information to my best friends- one of whom is a license police officer in case he refuses to catch the hint and keeps trying to push the issue. A girl has to keep her eyes open, y’all.

This experience has got me rethinking dating at this juncture in my life. With my leg out of whack I’m unable (read: unwilling) to go on physical dates with men. I feel broken and I’m not able to drive and at the very base level I feel super vulnerable. I feel kind of like prey. I can’t run from predators and I can’t even drive myself there and home. So instead I’m keeping things safe and calm in my world by staying in.

I think I have a knack for listening to God/The Universe/My Higher Power when there are messages for me and I’ve had the thought that maybe my knee injury- as random and unexplainable as it is, could be God’s way of telling me to stop. Be still. Work on yourself, look within and don’t get distracted by the shiny things like dates and boys. Take this time to be grateful….and I swear I hear a whisper in my ear that says “Psssst just wait! I have something so much better planned for you.”

So today I’m trusting in The Plan. I’m taking The Silver Fox & this knee debacle as a message and I’m going to wait for the next door to open before me and beckon me to walk through it. Until then, I’ll be here, thinking about my life’s purpose and what I can work on to be more grateful and listening to my inner voice while also working my way through the autobiographies by the cast of Queer Eye and waiting to hear the results of the MRI on my knee (most expensive 20 minute nap ever) to figure out what we need to do next.

So to you- Cheers! Enjoy the cooler weather wherever you are and the change of seasons and take care of one another. Until next time.

3 thoughts on “The art of f*cking up

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