The Adnostic

I know I should be writing about how wonderful BlogHer was, and how much fun I had, and all the cool people I met, and if I ever had an Indian name it would be Dances With MommyBloggers, but I've been sitting on this for the past week and a half and I need to get it out.

I had been dating The Elitist for about a month and was having trouble keeping my feelings on the slightly detached side because he was very effectively keeping me at arms length and I was becoming more and more frustrated by his barriers to intimacy.

Exhibit A:
After an hour or so of intimate relations we were laying together, basking in the afterglow when he suddenly became very concerned about the time.
Elitist: What time is it?
Me: 11:30, why? [jokingly] Is it time for me to leave?
Elitist: [seriously] Soon.
For a moment I was stunned.
Me: Are you kicking me out?
Elitist: Well, not yet.
Me: You're kicking me out?! Is this like Charlie Sheen and whores? I don't pay for the sex. I pay for them to leave.

At this point I can almost hear my mother telling me that this is precisely the treatment I deserve for hopping into bed with him so quickly. With my self-esteem about to hit record lows, The Elitist and I continued making hooker jokes until midnight when he determined it was time for me to leave.

He got up to see me out, but with hesitation. His neck and shoulder had stiffened and were causing him discomfort.
Me: Oh, I'd help you with that, but you're kicking me out.
Elitist: I'm never going hear the end of this, am I?
Me: Pretty much.

It was after this incident that I came to the conclusion that he didn't want me for a girlfriend and I wasn't sure how I felt about just being used for sex. I had never been able to keep my feelings separate from my sexual activity before, but I was willing to give it a try in this particular instance. I'm a modern woman, right?

That was a mistake.

Exhibit B:
He would only call me once a week, if that. He only wanted to see me once a week, and if we missed a weekend, then too bad.

He lived less than a mile away from me and wouldn't even come over for a booty call. Which was offered a total of twice. Here was a guy who didn't seem to want a serious relationship with me, but when I was offering sex without the pretense, he didn't want that either. Now I was confused. Repeatedly rejected, frustrated, and confused. A bad combination.

Exhibit C:
He didn't like to kiss me. Enough said.

I need to be fair here. There were a lot of good qualities as well. He was strikingly handsome, exceptionally bright, and one of the best lovers I've ever had (yes, even without the kissing (yes, I would be skeptical too)). We also had a great time together. Even when we were just sitting there talking about the most inane subjects, he always made it interesting.

All this left for a situation I didn't know quite what to do with. So when we had made plans to see each other one Saturday, after we had not seen each other for two weeks, and he had to reschedule for the next day at the last minute, I was a little put off. When Sunday came, and he called to tell me that he couldn't do dinner because he was with his parents and asked if we could just see a movie instead. I wanted to tell him to shove it, but I melted when I heard his voice and agreed that just a movie would be best. I hadn’t seen him in two weeks for no particular reason and all I get is a documentary about penguins?!

After the movie, he drove me home and parked the car outside my house. This was when I made the poor choice of unleashing my pent up Atomic Bomb of anger and neglect. Didn't he care that he hadn't seen me in two weeks? Didn't he even notice? Doesn't he want to come in so we can "make-up?"

Elitist: I can tell you're really mad about this, so I'm going to be proactive and not come in.
Me: [Proactive? Did he just use a business term on me?] Are you breaking up with me?
Elitist: Um, yeah.
Me: All right then. Bye.
[I move to get out of the car]
Elitist: Wait. Let's talk about this.
Me: If we're breaking up then I really don't see the point.
[I continue getting out of the car]
Elitist: But I really like you.
Me: [You have a funny way of showing it] I really like you too, but I want to be with someone who wants to talk to me more than once a week, who wants to see me more than once a week, and who doesn't keep me so damn scheduled.

He didn't have an answer for that one, so I closed the car door and marched myself inside without looking back.

At first I felt really good about it. I didn't cave. I didn't settle for a relationship that could prove emotionally unsatisfying. I handled the dumping like a pro. Then, after a day or so of distance, I began to have my doubts about how I dealt with the situation. He didn't really want to break up with me, but after he affirmed my question I just couldn't let it go. I bit into the words "break up" like a rabid pit bull and reacted the best way I knew how - walk away, don't ask questions, and don't look back.

I consulted a few of my more level headed friends about what happened and pretty much got the same answer - You pulled that BS after only dating him for a month? What were you thinking?

So, I screwed it up. Dysfunctional Single Girl triumphs again! I wish I could talk to him again and tell him that was sorry for losing my temper, but I can't. I'm too stubborn and far too proud. He's not much different. All I wanted was to see him more often and I completely failed that negotiation.

We MBAs call that a zero sum. Nobody wins.