Apres Awkward

Since there’s nothing terribly traumatic happening this week, you might just be treated to something relatively light-hearted and hopeful today!

But maybe not. We’ll see how it goes.

Last night, I was supposed to get drinks with the Biochemist (for those of you who aren’t familiar with him, he’s the guy I met online – oh dear – and then proceeded to have a very awkward three month non-relationship with). The last time I saw him, I was wine-drunk and sobbing. Ooh, rough. Jacob was there. I smeared mascara all over his white t-shirt. I woke up puffy. In general, not one of my better moments.

So naturally, I think he assumed that I was heartbroken by the demise of our relationship. Heartbroken, yes. About him, no. You see, technically – we can play this game all day – technically, I’ve never been really dumped. Like told, “This isn’t working out. We should see other people.” And even though I get mad points for telling him hours before he did it that he was going to do it, I was still upset. How often do you get dumped by a person you were going to dump?

We just didn’t click. At all. We both should have known better after the first date that nothing romantic was going to evolve out of it.
But still, we persevered.

I like to drink and dance and get naked in public (kidding, mostly). He likes to run triathalons and give anti-meat lectures (only once. But once is one time too many for this bacon lover).

Anyway, I was excited to get a drink and hang out, although a bit worried that we wouldn’t have much to talk about. Not that I should have worried, I am known for my ability to babble on endlessly at any time about anything. I am excited by the fact that we might be able to be friends.

So when he called, cancelled – I was exhausted, so that was actual a very welcome cancellation, chatted with me for awhile (good conversation – I forgot that he can be really funny. and so can I) and told me he was glad to hear my life was going well, I was annoyed. Maybe I was more annoyed by the fact that I told him (jokingly!) that my feelings were hurt and I was going to cry before realizing that his last memory of me is of me doing exactly that.

Am I that patronizing to my exes when we hang out? If so, I swear to never again tell them “I’m glad you’re doing well,” as though I’m alluding to the fact that I thought they’d be a schizophrenic mess without me.

I said goodbye, and hung up, cheered by the fact that I am a completely normal twenty-something sort of single woman. Bridget Jones would be so proud.

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