Paper Plates

Why'd you ask me to come visit you if you were already seeing someone?

I asked you to be my girlfriend, right?

Yes?

You weren't ready. I have needs. Men have emotional needs to. I want to be with a life partner, and you weren't ready. I do not blame you. I messed things up, and you are not ready to forgive me. 

So much for a year of debt. (insert cynical laugh here)

An old man once told me that people and relationships are like paper plates. You get one, use it, and when it gets messy, you toss it to the side. 

So, I'm a paper plate? Disposable?

Take it how you want. There are other people in the world. Other plates to use.


I can't help but cry. Not because I want Steven, or because I am hurt that he doesn't want me. I already knew he didn't. 

I am hurt by his thinking. His theory.

Why am I so disposable? What about me makes me so easy to dismiss?

Blazing Bachelor

I keep messaging with Steven. Surely, that does not surprise you. Ever-forgiving. Ever the Lil' Idiot.

He's trying to hard to convince me to be with him, give him another chance, while trying to keep up the pretense that he's only "repaying a debt he owes". 

I will give you a year of my time. I wasted six months of your time, and in return will give you a year. I am a friend before anything else. I can be here to offer advice and provide you with any help you might need. All you have to do is ask. If after a year you decide you no longer want to speak to me, then you are free to leave, but I always pay my debts.

A few minutes later...

Bae

I love you

You ready to be my girlfriend?

Do you miss me yet?

If I disappeared, would you look for me?

You still loooooove me.

You're so feisty.

You're so lazy.

You're so reserved and shy. I can't tell which personality I like most.

You keep me on my toes.

You make me happy.

You put a smile on my face.

When we gettin hitched?

When are you moving?

Pack your bags!

Come take care of me!

Steven. That is not how friends talk to one another. If you are only staying around because you feel that you "owe" me, then, I give you permission to walk. You are free from a debt you never owed.

But I want to be with you. I want you to be with me. You are the one for me, my honey bee. I will wait a year for you to decide. Take your time. Are you off work tomorrow?

Yes, it's a holiday.

Come visit me.

Why?

So, we can spend time together. Drive down for the day. I'll cook for you, mi amor.

I can't drive down there.

So, I'm the only one who drives down and up in less than 24 hours? 

You did it because you wanted to. No one made you.

So, you're not going to come visit me tomorrow?

No.

Suit yourself.

The next day, I log-in to Facebook, and Steven has posted before and after pictures of his clean home captioned "nothing gets a house clean like a blazing bachelor", followed by statuses of the meal he's prepping, flowers and chocolates he's bought. For his date. Who isn't me. 

Enter Steven

They all come back, remember? 

I'm gutting out the desks at school with Nikki, a coworker who quickly became a really good friend, when I see the lime green notification blinking on my phone. Hm. A Facebook message? Who could be messaging me on Facebook?

Steven's face pops up on the icon when I swipe right across the lock screen.

Heart. Stops.

What does he want? I click the icon, and the message appears on my screen.

4:48 pm

So do you want an explanation for why I behaved without any feelings towards you?

Because you weren't interested?

I had some personal things going on with my ex. There were issues that I had to take care of and I didn't want to involve you. They weren't your demons to deal with. I had to take care of the problem with her and her family and was protecting you in the process.

Ok? So, why are you telling me this now?

Usually my go-to response in these situations. 

I was talking to a friend, and he suggested I let you know the truth. I felt bad about the way things were left, and I felt that, now that everything is settled, I should give you an explanation for my actions.

I'm not sure what you want me to say here?

I want a chance to make amends. To make things right? I owe you that much. You were always good to me, and you deserve to know what happened.

Ok.

I look at Nikki and tell her the conversation, while, also, providing background to my relationship with Steven. 

"So, basically, you're saying that he left you for his ex? What a jerk!"

How is it possible that in those few simple words, she can sum up every thought I had. He left me. For his ex. And now, he wants to make amends. 

Why don't the buried just stay buried?

Exit Stage Right

JD was patient enough to stick around another couple of week before he bolted again. Honestly, I don't even blame him. I had a feeling he would. If I'm being totally open, I wasn't trying very hard to spend time with him, which was what he wanted and needed. 

It's hard, though, when someone leaves you and comes back and you're already all out of energy from being left, can you really put any reeeal effort in? Maybe you can. I'd reached a wall. I was done. 

We'd gone out maybe... 2? more times before he finally decided he was done.

5:01 pm

I have had some time to think about our situation over the break, and I've decided my feelings for you haven't grown any. We don't really spend any time together, and I don't feel like this relationship is progressing.


5:45 pm

Ok.


Always sooo smooth. What could I say, though? For real this time. I don't think I'd honestly forgiven him for bailing the first time, and hadn't given him a fair second shot. Could I blame him? 

Resurrections

I had a friend, Candace, who I started calling Goose when I was 21 years old, because of some dumb guy, Chase, that I was dating at the time. He was trying to come up with cute and unique pet names for me. One day, he called me Goosey-poo, which I quickly shut down for obvious reasons, and Candace and I thought it was so funny, I teased her with it, and later shortened it to just Goose.

Let me tell you a little about Goose. She was my BEST friend. We'd known each other since we were 12, and I shared all my secrets with her and she with me. We were super close, always spending time together, going on wild adventures, going to concerts, eating, venting, traveling, whatever it is best friends are supposed to do, we did it. 

During one of our random and powerful venting sessions, we came to a conclusion that I... am cursed. 

Every guy I've ever dated likes me, decides he doesn't want me (for various, and often similar reasons), bails and tries to come back (for various, and often similar reasons). 

It has NEVER failed.

EVER. 

Every guy that has ever left me makes an attempt to come back. Why they don't just stick around in the first place is beyond me. 

We jokingly started referring to exes coming back as "coming back from the dead".

"I resurrected another one." 

"Guess who's back from the dead?"

"Guess who's resurrected?"

I instantly thought of Goose when JD resurrected.

Unfortunately, Goose is no longer in my life. She, herself, resurrected, but I chose to keep her buried. Another paper plate in a world of recycling bins.

This resurrection theory, curse, if you will, is what made me hesitant to openly and honestly pursue a relationship with JD.

I'm tired. Tired of being "that girl". The one that's "perfect", and "everything I've ever wanted". I'm tired of being "something else". I'm tired of being what I've coined the "after thought/realized girl".

You know the one. The one that AFTER he's had a chance to THINK about it, he REALIZES he made a mistake and his reasons for leaving weren't really good enough to not be with me, so he wants another shot.

He wants to be resurrected. 

Round 2

I didn't really have anything to say to JD other than "ok". I mean, what is there to say? You aren't interested; we've gone out twice. What do you want me to say?

Now, that doesn't mean I wasn't ticked off. I mean, why were you making plans with me after our second date if you didn't want to see me again? When did you decide you weren't interested? During the date? After? What was the deciding factor? Why didn't you tell me instead of ignoring me for a week after? Ok.. so maayybe I had stuff to say to him. I just chose not to, as is my usual way of dealing. Obsessive, remember?

A week or so passed when the text came in:

12:36 pm

Hey, it's JD. I wanted to let you know why I texted you saying I wasn't interested. I wanted to come clean about my reasoning, since I realized I wasn't fair to you about the situation and was a jerk about it. I dated a guy a few years ago for a short time. It is something from my past and is no longer part of who I am now. Whenever I tell people I am interested in they usually shy away, and I get hurt. I didn't want that to happen with you.

What? THAT'S why he stopped talking to me? Because of something from YEARS ago that has nothing to do with the NOW? 

Men. What can we do?

I didn't reply right away. I wasn't even sure I wanted to reply: at all. Not even because he dated a guy. That doesn't bother me in the slightest, to be honest. What bothers me is that he assumed I am like every other chick he's been interested in, and just going to bail on him without even discussing it first (assuming he wanted to discuss it, of course). He didn't even give me a chance, why should I give him another one? 

Because that's who I am. That's what I do. Ever the forgiving soul.

3:21 pm

So, why are you telling me this now?


I thought you deserved to know. I wanted another chance. I really enjoyed getting to know you, and it wasn't fair that I didn't give you a chance. I was a jerk.


Ok.


See? I'm sooo smooth.

Date 2

We spent JD's birthday at this placed called "Main Event". It's essentially a grown-up arcade, and JD is one competitive son-of-a-gun. I can be. Once I get comfortable.

We played a few rounds of basketball, ski ball, Pac-Man. He pretty much dominated, and he loved it. Until we got around to playing air hockey. Now, I am no good at this game, but I had luck on my side, and I was up 4-1. You could see the competitive scowl curling up around the edges of his face. And I loved it.

He started catching up: "Are you letting me score on purpose?"
"No," I smiled coyly. More scowling. More grinning.

He ended up beating me 7-5. My luck doesn't last long. In any matter.

We enjoyed a nice Italian dinner after he got his fill of whooping me.

We did our usual: texting each other when we got home, and making plans for later in the week.

No surprise here, but those plans fell through.

Lil' Idiot

There was this boy in high school that every girl liked. You know the one: cute face, nice smile, athlete, Mr. Sociable. Naturally, this meant I was infatuated with him, too. In high school, however, I did not have the blooming confidence and self-assurance that I do now. (Enter eye roll and hysterical laughter here.)

Jay took an interest in me, for whatever reason, and I was in heaven. He'd call me every night after school; we'd stay up talking until all hours of the night. He'd pass me notes between classes.

Somewhere along the way, he gave me a nickname and a rubber-band. No clue how it happened, but he started referring to me as his "Lil' Idiot", and I loved it every time. Blame it on youth, stupidity or desperation. Maybe even a combo of the three. I liked that he was paying attention to me, and it never occurred to me that he was mocking me.

Fast forward 10 years and that's exactly how I feel now: like I should be wearing a rubber-band with the words "Lil' Idiot" inked on it.

Date 1

10:42 am

I'm sorry I haven't been in touch lately. I've been thinking of the best way to tell you, and I've decided honesty is best. I am just not interested. I'm sorry.

Heart stops. Not the text I expect to see so early on a Sunday. JD is not interested. No shocker there, considering he'd been ignoring me for the past week. Granted, I did not over-communicate, but I know when I'm being ignored. Naïve as I am, if nothing else, I know my place.

***
A week earlier

Sunday, Date 1:

We are leaving the theater, having just watched some Amy Schumer movie that is completely inappropriate for a first date, and headed across the street for dinner.

First impression: JD is cute, and slimmer than I'd imagined. He's polite, offering me snacks and asking where I'd like to sit to ensure I was "comfortable and in good view of the screen".

After movie impression: He has THE. MOST. GORGEOUS. green eyes I've ever had the pleasure to look upon. I thought they were nice INDOORS. Lord, did they shine when the sunlight reflected off of them OUTDOORS.

At dinner, I strategically placed myself towards the window, so that he could sit facing the sunlight. I wanted to have every chance possible to catch the light reflecting off his eyes. I like eyes, if you hadn't noticed.

Dinner went well. We talked non-stop, easy flow, no awkwardness. He offered to pay, as did I.

He texted me later that night to make sure I'd made it home safely, and to invite me out for the following night to celebrate his birthday. Now to some people, this is no big deal. To obsessive people like myself, this was a HUGE deal. Birthdays are a big thing for me. They always have been (minus my 25th, but that's for a later date). Birthdays are supposed to be spent with family and friends. People you love. JD wanting to spend his birthday with me was a sign that he must have really liked our first date.

Naturally, I agreed and we went out again the following day.

New beginnings

Summer time is always a great time for me. My birthday. My parents' birthdays. A break from school. Tan lines. Water. Fun.


Months have gone by and Steven barely graces my subconscious. I am so happy with the way things have changed.


I accepted a job offer at a new(ish) school, as a third grade teacher. I'll be teaching in Spanish, which on its own is a BIG deal. I have only ever taught in English, so this is a great opportunity for me to step out of my comfort zone, to push myself in a new direction and to strive for more.


I've, also, started talking to someone new- JD.  I met JD online through eHarmony. I've had this dang profile for over a year, and JD is the first guy I think I may actually get together with and meet.


He's a sweet guy. A year older. New to my town. A teacher, also.


We talk all day long, and get along great through text and phone calls. Yes. Phone calls. JD is one of those few specimens in the human world that likes talking on the phone, and while I know I shouldn't, I compare him. To Steven. To Mark. To every guy I've ever dated. Thinking solely on Steven, JD is a major upgrade, already. He makes me laugh, and doesn't make me feel bad about myself. Major plus.

7:24 pm
Hey:) Wanna get together Sunday night? We could go to a movie and get some dinner after?




And so onto new beginnings:)

Obsessive

Obsessive. Remember I said that I was obsessive? I keep replaying the last few conversations I had with Steven. I HAVE to find fault in myself. What did I do? What did I say? What could I have done to make him stay?


I cannot accept that this decision had nothing to do with me. He kindly gave me the "out" I needed to heal and move on, but I couldn't. I am not satisfied knowing that "it was him, not me". I. NEED. to know.


Steven called me. Once. After he broke up with me. I didn't answer. I didn't know what to say to him. I didn't know if I COULD say anything to him.


So I obsessed.


I should have answered.
What did he want to tell me?
Why didn't I call him back?
What could he have had to say to me that would have made this any better?
What would I have said to him?
Could I have spoken to him without crying? Without sounding bitter?
Will he call again?
Why did he call in the first place?
Why didn't I answer?


Over and over again.


I stay off of Facebook as much as possible, so that I am not tempted to check his profile- see who he's with, who he's talking to, how happy he is without me.


I, literally, have to keep track of the days, like an addict in recovery. I have gone 24 hours without checking on him. 36. 54. Eventually, I lose track of the days, and I am no longer plagued by the need to know how he's doing.


I want to know that he's ok.


I want to know that he is fine without me.


Why?

That's beyond me.

Beginning of the End

I have a slightly obsessive personality. By this, I don't mean I actively stalk people, nor have I ever been medically diagnosed. I use the term "obsessive personality" loosely, and it isn't meant to offend or down play those who have been diagnosed by their physicians. 

By obsessive personality, I mean, I overthink, and over-analyze everything. Every. Thing. 

While I did not spend any more time crying over Steven, I did spend time wondering what I'd done; how he could have so easily left me without hesitation. One day, Steven and I are planning our future, and making plans for me to take time off this summer to spend a week with him out west, and the next: he's not happy. And I mean this literally. Literally, from one day to the next. 

The day before he broke up with me, Steven had asked that I request a week off of Summer Camp, so that I could spend more than 24 hours with him at a time. I'd teased him about that last line. It seemed like after our first date, which lasted about 4 hours, less than 24 hour dates had become our thing.

*****

Date 2: 

Steven and I have been "in a relationship" for a month. The week of Valentine's Day he'd promised to come visit, even though, "now really isn't the best time". He's so charming, isn't he?

I had to work the Friday he planned to come into town, because my co-worker and I were hosting a Valentine's Day dinner for our students. I invited Steven to come by, eat, and spend time with me while I worked, and then we could spend time together. Just the two of us. Valentine's Day was Saturday, anyway, and I'd already set aside that day to spend it's entirety with him.

8: 48 pm 

The Friday "Family Valentine's Dinner" is nearly over and Steven still hasn't dropped in. I begin to worry, and, finally, get a chance to check my phone.

7:32 pm 

I'm taking a nap in the HEB parking lot. Let me know when you're finished. Love you.

What?! I've been waiting for him this whole time, and he's taking a nap!? 

8:50 pm 

So... you aren't coming to the Valentine's dinner?

8:55 p.m.

I didn't know you wanted me to come by. What's the address?

At the risk of causing a fight, I text back the address and he shows up a half hour later. He hangs out in the lobby, while Kat and I finish cleaning up and saying good-bye to the families, thanking them for coming.

Steven follows me home, and we hang out in the street. Under the stars. Very romantic, I know. 

Then, he gets overwhelmingly tired, and sits in his truck while I stand outside his door, trying to make plans for tomorrow. 

Steven decides he should head home. He just bought a bunch of new tile "for our place", and should "really head home and get to work". 

Half an hour, and a mini-spat later, Steven heads out of town, and I'm left with no plans for Valentine's Day.

Date 2: Less than 24 hours. 

*****

Now that I've spent the last week replaying our conversations and our interactions, I think about this night and pick apart every. piece. 

Looking back on that night, I can't help but laugh. This is the night everything changed. This was the beginning of the end. 

The Purge

I spent the next 3 days crying. Nonstop. The day after, I couldn't even make it through my work day without falling apart. Do you know how hard it is to work with 5 years old and keep your tears in check? 

Thankfully, I had an intern in my room, who had quickly become a good friend of mine, and, thus, knew what was happening. 

She took over as soon as our lunch breaks had ended. 

She was my saving grace that day, and I am eternally grateful.

My car rides home were a similar scenario, but ions more freeing: guttural sobs that shook my body and impaired my vision. The car rides home, unlike my work day, were accompanied by "3Oh!3"'s album: maxed out volume and enough swear words to cleanse every ache in my heart.

One of the hardest parts of my day, was having to come home. I spend a lot of my day with my parents and three brothers, but on days were baseball practice wasn't scheduled, and orchestra concerts weren't in occurrence, I had a lot of time: to think. 

I went over every possible scenario that I could think of: replaying our last conversations, looking for some sign, some clue. What had I done wrong? What about me made me so easy to dismiss? Why hadn't I seen it coming? 

I did my best to keep it together while I was around my family. They knew Steven had left me, but I didn't want them to know how badly I felt about it. "Put on a happy face", as they say. 

Seeing the pain in my eyes, my mom hugged me: a rare event in my house. And I bawled. I clung to her like an infant seeking comfort, and I just let it all out. By the time, I pulled away, my face was tear stricken and all the tears I had been holding in that evening had escaped by body. 

I could see my pain reflected back at me in my mother's eyes. The pain a mother feels when her own child is suffering is beyond my empathy, for I am not a mother myself, but I knew my tears were causing some of her own.

Day 3 I decided that enough was enough. This was the last day I was going to spend crying, aching, and pleading with my heart to cease its barrage upon itself. This was the last day, I was going to ride home with blurred vision, endangering myself and others on the road.

I stayed true to my word. I sobbed on the way home, periodically, reminding myself that this was the last time. To get it all out. THIS is your last chance to purge.