Lessons Unlearned: 2 years and I give it up for nothing

I’m bummed y’all. I try not to use this blog as a personal diary, but rather, a place to write and get feedback about issues that pertain to the lot of us, using stuff I’ve been through or friends or family have been through, as a catalyst for discussion.

But no Ask Melyssa Monday, today. Can we just talk?

So, I met this guy, right. It happened fast. He's a friend of a friend. We hung out all day and went out that night. We had great conversation, what I thought was a great connection, and we just clicked. The drinks were flowing, the night was creeping into morning and he’s the best kisser ever. I don’t even like kissing, but I think we must have lip-locked for over an hour. You know how you used to kiss when kissing was all there was, before it became a prelude to sex? It was like that. Only it actually was a prelude to sex. (I'm a grown ass woman, dog. :) ) Anyway, it wasn’t over-the-top romantic, but bumbling, spontaneous and passionate just the same. The stuff great vacation memories are made of.

I flew out a couple days later.

So I’ve been holding onto these images, happy as a lark, re-living them in my head and anxiously looking forward to my next vacay to his city. (And by the way, he footed the bill for the plane ticket for this next vacay which is slated to take off shortly).

But then today, I find out that he had a strikingly similar interlude last night with some other chick. (A white girl actually. Shouts to my snow bunnies. Is it racist that I find that as more of a blow than if the indiscretion had been with a sister? Just askin.) Anyway, perhaps this sounds stupid to the more evolved of my readers, but I am so angry. My stomach is in knots like I’m 17 and I feel hurt and betrayed. My ego’s bruised bad. (That is stupid, right? I mean, he is absolutely and definitely not my man).

So really, what am I angry about? No love was ever professed, we were not committed and quite frankly, the way things happened with her are strikingly similar to the way things happened with me – Late at night, after a long evening of partying, drunken and giggling in the dark ... I got all the dirty details today and it was the same exact run-down. Same club, same sofa … everything. It’s like his M.O. (Oh my gosh, this just occurred to me. Could he think that’s my MO, too?)

So I guess when it was me, it meant nothing. Why is that so hard for me to grasp? Especially being that it went down like it was nothing: quickly and easily with nil courtship. Still, it felt special just the same. Aren’t women silly that way? Of course, nothing that happens quickly or easily is special. How can it be? I really thought I was past this kind of diluted girlish thinking. I have clearly not matured as much as I thought I had.

How is it that men and women can feel so very differently about the same experience? Why is it that when it’s just you and him, it’s like it’s only you and him? Like because you’re the only woman in the room, you feel like the only woman in his world … So nonsensical, but doesn’t it feel that way?

I am so sick of learning this lesson. I will be sooo glad when I just get it.

And I am so celibate. Again.

-- Mel

PS: He doesn't know I know, by the way. When I see him though, I haven't decided how I'm gonna handle it. I won't be staying with him during my trip, but had planned on seeing much of him before all this came to light. Someone suggested I take him for as much as I can. (He has money and likes to throw it around, as you can see, buying $400 plane tix and shyt for women who clearly mean absolutely nothing to him <--- points to self). But I don't even think I could play him like that, tho I imagine it wouldn't be difficult. I genuinely liked him. Sucks. Meantime, I've deleted his number from my cell to keep me from calling and saying something rash. I want to be cool and deliberate when it's time, not angry or emotional. I'll let y'all know how this one rounds out.

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