Hinging on something more.
January 27, 2024
It was November, I was still shattered and shook. It hurt to breathe, to move, to live. My mom, our family rock, was gone forever and the holidays were quickly approaching. It was only yesterday that my ex was moving out and I was learning to navigate life as a single woman and now my mom was gone too. I started looking for something, anything, to make the days and nights more palpable. Someone far removed from the situation, a reprieve.
It started with a few messages about the military sometime around 3 months after saying goodbye to my mom for the very last time. I can’t remember much about his tagline or the small talk or who messaged whom. At the time, I was chatting with a few men, one being a commercial pilot (more on this later).
Instantly, the conversations between O'reilly and me were daily, sometimes deep, sometimes just irrelevant nuances. After hours and hours of texting, picture sharing, and pursuing, he asked to meet. It was a bit of a struggle to align our schedules at first. However, we finally set a date after a few weeks of texting. Days before he lackadaisically canceled because he forgot his “family was coming into town.” I didn’t have enough reliable interpersonal context to lean on, but I felt skeptical and catfished. I mentioned that since we had never had a phone call or video chat, it was starting to give me those “vibes.” Seven days into nonstop texting (and a month before we actually ever met in person), I received this message:
“And I get it, this entire thing is inorganic like you’ve called it before and one tends to have their defenses up, but im getting something else, a little extra I might call it. Im starting to think our personalities might actually clash.”
In retrospect, I can’t explain why two complete strangers chose to brush over our uneasiness and continued the banter like any other day.
Only a few short weeks in, our conversations transitioned beyond flirty and became a little more dirty. It was QUICK. It was exciting. It was tantalizing. It was sexy. I was secretly texting O’reilly while on dates with other men. It was a whirlwind and all-consuming at times. But I felt so confused as to where, if anywhere, this was headed. At the beginning, we had discussed dating with kids and the potential struggles but possibilities. However, I felt like true “dating” never actually transpired and it was hard to not be hurt and offended. It felt like it was becoming something more of convenience and he had the upper hand. It did not feel equal sharing of the power dynamic.
Rule number 1: NEVER open your home to a first date.
But, I had been out of the dating mix for so long that I missed that memo and did not read up on the rules of dating. While I am not blaming myself, I think meeting at my house changed the dynamic and expectation, even though nothing happened that first day. However, I never set the expectations of true dating and courting and before I knew it, my feet were in the air.
Rule number 2: NEVER sleep with someone before a commitment.
This rule is as old as the art of dating is itself. I definitely knew better, but there was so much sexual tension and frustration pent up from a month of conversation without meeting. As anyone would probably assume, I lost my wits about me and got sucked into a world that I had been far removed from for years. It was hot and heavy and passionate and freeing. There are no words to describe how it helped to put me in my feminine again. I felt sexy, sensual, confident, and desired. Feeling all of those things for the first time in years in combination with such profound grief and sadness was a DISASTER waiting to happen.
Rule number 3: Do NOT confuse sex for adoration or intimate feelings.
Oh god, it hurts to even type that knowing I fell victim to it. This is an absolute cardinal rule and a big inherent difference between men and women. I know it. I have known it. This is nothing new to me and I was still a casualty to this truth. I could kick myself a million times over and I’m so embarrassed to admit that I let it happen, but I did. I thought that he really enjoyed me as a person and sex was an expression of that. In retrospect, he enjoyed my convenience and friendship and the benefits I provided. I know, I know, I know. Trust me, I KNOW.
Rule number 4: Do NOT confuse sex with exclusivity.
I knew we weren’t exclusive. Exclusivity only occurs with a conversation and a commitment, we had neither. When he asked me to NOT break things off with other guys “because I may get tired of him” there should have been so many sirens and reg flags going up and I should have cut it off right then. Trust me, I tried dating and talking to other men, but I only wanted him. Typical, right? A woman wanting the ONLY one she can’t actually have because he doesn’t want her back. Oldest story in the book. Insert eye roll here.
Rule number 5: Do NOT, do NOT, do NOT find yourself in a “situationship.”
A situationship is the new buzzword and a result of online dating. It’s a casual, uncommitted friendship/relationship of convenience with intimacy. While a situationship can be extremely convenient for certain periods of life, it was definitely not the period I was in and not anything I had ever signed up for. It just happened. Before I knew it, we were in a pretty consistent pattern- text for hours daily, sexting scattered throughout the week, a trip to my house every other week for some muesli, conversation, and horizonal dancing and then a 4 day ghosting every 4 weeks. For almost 3 months, this continued like clockwork. There were a few conversations every now and then where he would reiterate that he’s not interested in a relationship, our personalities clash, and we would never work. Despite hearing that, I trudged on thinking things may change. I swear to you I know better and have ALWAYS known better. I think I was so emotionally beat down and vulnerable that I didn’t adhere to my own boundaries.
Rule number 6: You can never MAKE someone care for you the way you want them to.
So I have now vaguely summarized the situation I found myself in. I fell hard. While he never fell at all. But, maybe the previous Farewell Letters will make more sense. Despite all that he taught me about myself and my strength, it was time for me to put myself out there and demand all or none. Unfortunately, “none” ended up being the only viable option.
