It seems like I always hear from the person I don’t want to hear from at exactly the time I don’t want to hear from them, and for whatever reason, it usually involves some sort of meme. I usually pride myself on my ability to let shit go, but for some unknown reason, this was one that I just couldn’t.
It happened a few months ago, I met a guy on tinder, and he asked me to dinner. I agreed to go, which broke my first rule of dating (never do a meal as a first date) and figured maybe I could steer the date into just drinks. After he asked me out I didn’t hear from him for a few days, so honestly, I was starting to think I was being catfished. I half expected to show up at the bar and have him just not show up. He did, and I had a great time but he didn’t kiss me at the end of the date so I figured he probably wasn’t interested, which was fine, I was just gonna move on and keep on swiping.
I was more than a little surprised when he asked me to meet him again, but also glad because I had a good time with him which is rare on a first date. He had also found my tinder Instagram before we met up that first time and still wanted to meet me, so at the very least he had a sense of humor. Things were going well, or so I thought. I had decided to deactivate my dating apps, and I was getting really comfortable with the idea of regular sex and a drinking buddy.
Things started to look like they were going to get serious, I started telling my friends and family about him, and that’s when he broke things off with me. In a text, while I was at dinner with my mom with no real explanation as to why. I was pretty upset (like shed a tear in the restaurant upset….. and I didn’t even know I had tear ducts), but if he didn’t think things were going to work between us I wasn’t going to beg him to want to be with me. I kind of got the feeling he was looking for me to fight him on it, and the old me probably would have. But at this point, I’ve learned that 75% of the issues in my life could have been avoided if I had just held the door open for the people who wanted to walk out of it rather than beg them to stay. So even though I was hurt and disappointed I just let it go.
As much as it sucked I wasn’t surprised. I had checked his tinder profile once or twice just because I was nosy and noticed that he had updated his profile. It was still pretty early on so I wasn’t going to bring it up until I had to, but since he ended things with me three days later it became a non-issue.
Of course, because I had told my friends and family about him I had to have obligatory “oh it didn’t work out I’m just gonna get a bunch of cats and die instead” conversation whenever they asked about it. They kept saying I would hear from him again but I didn’t really believe it or really want to to be honest. I deleted his number and any other semblance of him in my life, reactivated my tinder and slept with some 21 year old boy to numb my pain (because the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else right?).
Just when I started to forget about it I noticed him looking at my Instagram story for my tinder page. I was going to call him out about it, but my sister (and my voice of reason) told me to just block him and not think about it. So that’s what I did.
There were a few different times I almost reached out to him because something reminded me of him, but I refuse to be that person who doesn’t let go. Especially with someone, I didn’t know that well to begin with, and especially with someone who didn’t see how awesome I was. I made myself a promise a long time ago that I was never going to beg another person to give a shit about me ever again, and I won’t. After my last relationship ended I decided I was going to stop giving people so many chances. Mostly in relationships but I guess I should really carry that over to my friendships as well. 90% of the trauma that’s happened in my life could’ve been avoided if I hadn’t given the men I was with so many extra chances and opportunities to treat me like shit. It’s not that I’m punishing people in my present for the mistakes of my past, it a matter of knowing my own worth and expecting the people in my life to recognize it as well.
I had finally stopped thinking about him when I got laid off. The day I wrote my post about it I got a message on my personal Instagram. It was from him, and it was, of course, a meme because that’s what every guy uses to get to me when they really wanna get to me. I could’ve just ignored it, but someone pointed out that he had clearly read my blog post earlier in the day and that it wasn’t a coincidence, and I am clearly at a weak point in my life so instead it sent me into kind of a tailspin.
Even though the rational side of me knew that he didn’t somehow realize he made a mistake and he wasn’t making any sort of effort to rekindle anything with me I started overthinking it. I started rethinking my whole no second chance thing, maybe if he was reaching out to try and start things again that I was being too harsh by not giving him a second chance. In reality, it was just a meme, not some gesture to try and get in touch with me again. I should’ve just blocked him and moved on, but obviously, my irrational ass didn’t do that. Fueled by tequila and a slight bit of rage, I instead sent this message…. like two weeks later. I’m not even sure why I did it, it wasn’t going to change anything, In reality, he didn’t give a shit about me- and even if he did I know better than to spend any more time on someone who didn’t realize how great I was the first time around. If I can be completely honest though, even if I did sound kind of like a crazy person it actually did make me feel better.
I pride myself on taking all the bad things that happened to me and using them to make me better and not bitter, but somehow I feel like maybe I am being slightly bitter by completely cutting out the opportunities for second chances. Maybe it’s not about giving chances but about learning to recognize red flags and not make excuses for them. It doesn’t matter in this situation, that’s a dead issue, but I also don’t want to spend the rest of my life running from things because I’m afraid of wasting any more time or repeating the mistakes of my past.