Dear Diary
I think we both know that I’ve been blinded by hope the past 7 months with the Karate Kid saga. I’ve always had reservations and doubts with his intentions (it’s hard being right sometimes). I think I saw him for his potential and not his true state of being.
He sent me a message at breakfast to remind me to go. He said that we could talk after. I was so tired from the night before that I opted to stay in my pyjamas. He respected this for the first time.
At lunch he sent a message saying the BBQ later was cancelled but that he’d advise me of the group’s plans. I took this as my opportunity to seek my closure. Like a bandaid I prefer to rip it off quickly to minimise the pain. I said that I was going to do one class that afternoon but that we could talk either side of it. He asked if I was free right then. Yes, I was.
When he came we were both ready to talk. I started the agenda with rehashing how hurtful his words were last Sunday, but went into more detail why. He apologised again and then he started talking about the dinner plans for the evening. In my head I was going through the red flags:
– cancelled dates last minute
– poor planning
– mobile phone use in the bed
– not much probing to find out about me
– no words of affection
– then the obvious situation that played out of the past week
Knowing this, I still asked the main question on my mind – if he wanted the same thing as me…..long pause…. I held my breath. The lyrics “say something I’m giving up on you” played in my head. He started to break the news by announcing that he was going to be honest with me (equals bad news). He said that he was a bad person and was just seeing where things went with me. He didn’t want a relationship and doesn’t have the energy nor time to be a boyfriend. These words cut my heart like a dagger.
I turned my back to him. He cuddled behind me. Silence. After a few minutes I whispered “why did you kiss me on New Years?”. It was more of a statement to warn him that he should have been more respectful and not led me on. Silence. He stroked my hair. It was time for me to make the final blows to kill things. I said that I thought he had a lot of good qualities that would make him a good partner. Pause. Our eyes meet “you’ll make someone happy one day. That someone isn’t me”. Pause, his eyes search my face and I hold the gaze for a second and then turn away. The final twist of the knife to ensure a successful kill was the last step indicated – I tell him that I thought that he’d make a good father some day. The kiss of death for what ever could have been was delivered. Any commitment fearing man would run at those words and never look back.
After a long silence he tries to make me feel better by suggesting that we go to an arcade after a group dinner. In a weary voice I tell him that it’s not a good idea. Thankfully, I had preexisting plans with a friend for dinner.
It was almost time for my class. He asked if I was still going – of course I was. No way was I spending any more of my precious time in his presence. As I got ready he had a discerning look on his face. He watched me intensely but distantly. I’m sure that he wanted to make me feel happy. At the door he said he’d call me after my class to let me know about the dinner. I said it was best not to. I said it was better for me to keep my distance for a little while “give me a week or two and I’ll be over it”. We walk to the lift and wait. He stares at me, maybe shocked to see me suffering. I let our eyes meet and I tell him not to make me cry, then look away.
Silence in the lift ride down. I tell him to enjoy his afternoon when I step out. I walk away and don’t look back.
After the class I go to my hotel room. No messages from him. I start getting ready to meet with my friend for dinner. Fighting back the threat of tears I put on a pretty dress and do my make up nicely. I reassure myself that after the dinner I could allow myself to cry in the safety of my room.
The feeling was all too painful and familiar, I’d just experienced it a month ago parting ways with The Spaniard (who hasn’t been in contact in days mind you). Two psuedo breakups in a month isn’t pleasant. The suffering didn’t seem justifiable for the shallow experiences. Why does my heart open up and then get bruised so easily? This dating business isn’t for the faint hearted.
I take a deep breath as I hold the door handle. I tell myself that I’m okay to face the world. But, in the damn lift on the way down Karate Kid gets in at the fourth level – seriously! What bad luck with timing again! There are four lifts! What bad odds that he happened to get into the same one again when I really didn’t want to see him. The lift was full so we don’t make eye contact. I knew that he’d seen me.
When the lift doors opened I strolled out and kept my chin high. He spoke with other people in the lift and I felt awkward but relieved that there were excuses to buffer us ignoring each other. Once outside the hotel he runs up to me – are you serious?! What is wrong with this guy? He walks with me towards the tram station and looks me up and down. He says that I look nice. I can’t even remember if I responded to his compliment. He strikes up casual conversation and walks me all the way to the station and then sits with his arm around me until the tram arrives. As we part ways he kisses me on the cheek and says that he’ll see me at the party later….
What does it all mean? Why is he doing this to me? I honestly don’t understand. Why can’t he just leave me in peace? I’m not some sort of toy that can be picked up and then put down in a corner to be forgotten about.
Diary, I don’t know if I should go to the party later. I should because it’ll make me happy dancing with anyone but him. Not going is also like running away when I should be holding my ground and making my lemonade from the bitter lemons despite how unpalatable it may turn out. You see, if I don’t go I’ll be likely just as miserable as if I went. Therefore, it’s time to put on an amazing dress, look stunning and remember to smile until it happens naturally.
Wish me luck dear Diary. I stand for the women who have had their hearts broken by idiots. Our tears aren’t in vain, they make us stronger to be able to tolerate being in the same room as the people that cause them. We have poise and composure.
Anastasia
The Contemporary Princess 