Dear McBicep -
When you sent me a message today to tell me that you'd stopped by my house and I wasn't there, I was truly surprised. It's been a month since I've seen you, and three weeks since I've heard from you.
First I got those same butterflies I always get when I hear from you, and I was excited that you'd gone to my house unexpectedly. Then when you told me that you stopped by to show off your new motorcycle, I came to a few realizations about the past month.
1. I started out the month being sad and crying to my sister about how I must be a real undesireable dating candidate if the guy I dated for seven months decides to give me the hint by just not calling anymore;
2. I spent the middle of the month cataloging my faults and flaws and convincing myself that I wasn't good enough for any guy, especially if my Tad Hamilton starts giving me the cold shoulder with zero explanation;
3. I finished out the month by being pissed that you're not man enough to tell me to my face that you'd rather jump rope and make love to your own reflection in the hood of your Camaro than see me anymore.
So when I talked to you today, after you got done telling me all about your new motorcycle and how busy you've been, I told you that it really hurt my feelings that you've just blown me off. I also told you that if you didn't want to see me anymore, that was fine; but at least be man enough to tell me instead of leaving me to figure it out for myself.
Your response was, "Why do you bring this up when you know how busy I am and how much it frustrates me?"
Oh, I'm sorry, sir. Is my request for you to act like a decent human being too much? Would you prefer that I sit here and chew my food, nodding politely as you do nothing but talk about yourself and your stupid new motorcycle?
Perhaps I haven't been too clear about who I am, and more importantly, what I expect. Because if I had been, surely you wouldn't think it was OK to treat me this way.
I expect to be with someone who wants to be with me. Someone who cares about what's going on in my life, who cares about how I'm feeling, who cares about if I'm even happy. Someone who understands that it's not okay to go a month without seeing me.
I deserve to be with someone who remembers when my birthday is, remembers what my middle names is, and doesn't stop by unexpectedly when he knows that I'm 2,500 miles across the country for the weekend. There are guys from my jobsite calling to tell me to have a good trip and be safe, and you didn't even know I was going. Even the carpet guy, the one I accidentally spit on, called to wish me a safe trip. The fact that guys who work for me and guys whom I've accidentally spit on care more about me than you do says a lot.
I deserve to be with someone who doesn't make me feel bad for being a loud-mouthed, dirty-mouthed, independent, sometimes-borderline-obnoxious girl. Most importantly, I deserve to be with someone who doesn't turn me into the bad guy for demanding respect.
You, on the other hand, clearly want to be with someone who's happy to stand in your shadow with her mouth closed and not ask anything of you.
I don't care how big your muscles are, how much you can bench press, how many fancy cars you have, how smart you are, how rich you are, or how well-traveled you are. I don't care how many girls gawk at you when we go out, how many guys fall all over you to tell you how awesome your body is; I don't care how far out of my league you think you are. I don't care if you were the absolute best I could ever do.
I don't need to be dating you just to prove to myself that I could get you; to make me feel better about myself. If I can't have it all, then I don't want any part of it.
Good luck finding your Stepford Wife.
Nice knowing you,
PS - After I relayed this information to you, you said you want to get together after I get back to Utah. I laughed and said you were interrupting the Eagles game. I wasn't kidding. This is me flipping you off.
Sunday, September 30, 2007
Dear McBicep -
at 9:34 PM