Those who know me, or feel like they know me from reading the stuff I post here, probably think that my interactions with the opposite sex are at least entertaining, if not comical. I don’t know how I ever got to be so predictable, but those people are 100% right. Here is a post for those singles out there not really ‘feeling’ all the mushy, gushy junk on this day of
corporate profit love.
I think it all started with my made up boyfriend in 7th grade. I was having this existential crisis about being the ONLY 13 year old on the planet without a boyfriend. I thought, “I can’t make anybody be my boyfriend, but I CAN make people believe I have a boyfriend.” I did my research: watching whatever made-for-tv movie marathon Disney channel had going on, and based my fictitious relationship off of that.
I walked into class the next day and, when the topic of boyfriends came up, I joined the conversation. To which one of the girls replied, “Sara, you don’t even have a boyfriend, so your opinion doesn’t matter.” (eyeroll) So I said, or screamed possibly, Yes! I do too! At that point, my best friend, with whom I always had a very open and hilarious relationship, started asking questions. And I answered them. Name. Age. What he looked like. Where he went to school. I pulled that mess off.
Until approximately 3 hours later when she turned around in her seat and said, “I don’t believe that you have a boyfriend. I know that you’re making it up because your mom would NEVER let you have a boyfriend who has a tongue ring.” To which I graciously replied (and this was completely normal in our friendship), “Yeah? And I know that your boobs are really a WonderBra, so shut it.”
Sad part is that she was TOTALLY right.
Thus began my comedic dealings in the dating world. I’d like to share with you my most entertaining, embarrassing and eyeroll worthy break-up moments. Some of them I am getting dumped, and some I’m the one doing the dumping, but none are probably considered ‘healthy’. Some are boyfriends and some are guys I was casually dating, or (my favorite) ‘he’s not my boyfriend, we’re just hanging out’… (everyday, alone, texting CONSTANTLY, and occasionally using pet names). This is my dysfunctional love life, please enjoy it as much as I do.
4. The Arguer
I was in the middle of breaking things off… in a pretty amicable way, I thought… with someone things had been pretty serious with. He said he didn’t know where this was coming from, and if I had been having these feelings, I should have talked to him about it sooner. Then this happened: “I thought you were always honest with me! Well, Sara, this was a lie! You pretended everything was fine and then you throw this in my face out of the blue!! I should have known you were nothing but a liar! You always say how turkey clubs are your favorite kind of sandwich, you preach that sh!t at me! But what do you buy at the grocery store?! You buy ham! You’re a liar and I don’t know how I put up with your lies for so long!!!!” I. Don’t. Even. Know.
3. The Texter
– Him: Hey pretty girl.
Me: Hi there, how are you?
H: I’m really good, what did you do today?
M: Oh, you know, just work. Did you have a good day?
H: This isn’t working out. I think we would be better off as friends.
M: Well, that’s a little off topic, but okay. Sounds fine to me.
2. A Poor Play at the Sympathy Card.
I had been dating this guy, long distance, for about three months when I was 22. Around that time I was also planning my first trip overseas with Ash. Now, this relationship wasn’t going very well from pretty much the beginning. He dropped the L-bomb after a week. I refused to say it, because I didn’t feel it. He started to get really controlling and overbearing, so I had decided that it was time that we called it quits. I had grown pretty exhausted of getting yelled at during phone calls and Skype chats so I decided to be immature and lazy and just do it via e-mail. It actually went pretty well, I thought. I’m much better at putting things into words with my hands than I am with my mouth. That was, until he messaged my mother on Facebook and, among other things, ranted about how I had dumped him to go sully myself in the gutters of Europe with any man that was so inclined, that I was losing the best thing that I would ever have, and that Mom should be ashamed of the daughter she raised… or something along those lines. Yikes.
Hint: Don’t start by telling my mom you think I’m a slut.
1. The Switcheroo.
I was 19 and had met this older guy at a wedding. By older, I mean he was 30. We had done a bit of talking and hanging out. It was okay, not earth shattering, but there was that initial excitement of newness. I knew he had a kid, but one night while we were chatting on the phone, he mentioned his ‘girls’. Huh. Turns out he had two kids. Which is fine. Maybe. When you’re not 19. Sooooo I started fishing, only to find out that one of his daughters was 11. 11. That made her 8 years different from me, while I was 11 years different from him. “Hi, I’m your new mommy… wanna go to the mall?” At that point, I hung up the phone. Full blown panic. I don’t know what possessed me, but when he called me back, I threw the phone at my mother and screamed, “You have to break up with him!!”, and I ran out the door attempting to put as much distance between me and my phone as humanly possible. Yep. My inability to date normally is a family activity.
Please. Sorry, it was awful, but please never call me again.
I know they’re pitiful, but I hope they made you smile a little on this cold, rainy Valentine’s Day. ❤