I don't even know where to begin this blog post.
I went out with a guy for a first date this past Wednesday. It was fantastic. He was funny and charming, and he took me to Pearl Dive Oyster Palace on its opening night. We talked and laughed and kissed for over an hour at the end of the night.
He contacted me immediately the next day and kept in contact throughout the rest of the week, asking me out again for Saturday.
I was SO EXCITED. I carefully crafted every text and email response, running most of them by Sassy Marmalade first. I didn't even blog about it because I didn't want to jinx it.
Then comes Saturday night. I stop by a birthday party first. I do a shot because I'm so nervous about seeing him again. He meets me outside the bar and takes me to Riot Act comedy club in Penn Quarter. Before the show, he asks way too many questions about the blog, to the point where I get uneasy. I felt uneasy throughout the entire show. Something was just... off. Those questions just felt unnatural.
Show ends. We leave. We're walking along the street corner, and he says the following:
"I've been seeing someone else, and it's progressed to the point where we're going away for the weekend together. Also, I just don't know if this is real for you."
For starters, let's look at the obvious: If you're dating someone else seriously enough to take a full weekend trip, then WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU TAKING OUT OTHER WOMEN, ASSHOLE??? I bet she'd LOVE to know just how much you kissed up and down my neck and all those things you whispered in my ear. If you're going away for a weekend together, SHE'S YOUR GIRLFRIEND. And by taking me out, you're a fucking cheater.
And beyond that... how many times do I have to write that yes, this is, in fact, real for me? For better or worse, I invest in every single person I go out with.
Every. Single. Person.
I INVEST. This is not a fucking joke to me. And I invested in YOU. And to tell me you don't believe this is "real" for me is too goddamn condescending for words. My heart is on the line EVERY TIME.
I walked away from him on the street corner that night. I was going to go home, but then I rounded the corner to Chinatown and on instinct walked back to the bar with the birthday party. Tears had already started forming in my eyes. I found A Single Girl and sobbed to her in the bathroom.
"At least you aren't that other girl," she said. "She thinks she has this great guy who's so into her he's taking her away for the weekend and when she's not looking he's making out with you. At least you aren't her."
Yes, true. The wool is pulled over her eyes and I guess I'm glad I know now rather than later what a prick he is. But it's not even that I'm upset about him. He's just some guy. It's about that second part of what he said.
I can't keep doing this. Guys don't take me seriously with this thing. I'm tired of being just novelty. I think at first, when I started writing this, it was OK because I wasn't ready to be with someone anyway -- I'd been in a relationship for seven years and I needed to be by myself for a while. The blog created a wall around me to block me off from getting serious with anyone. But now, I'm 100 percent ready to be serious, and I've still got this wall.
So, I don't know what I'm going to do. I've got Doing the District now, so maybe that can just be my creative outlet. I just know that I can't keep putting myself through this. I can't keep letting men like him treat me like I'm expendable.