Trial and Error Dating Part 2
“I still value our friendship and want you as part of my life,” the email read. With that I ran to the bathroom and violently emptied my stomach into the toilet.
From the beginning my spidey senses were tingling. I knew something wasn’t quite right. I MET Stinson on one of those free online dating sites. He presented himself as single and living in the same city I was living in at the time. The fact that he was 45-minutes late for our first ‘meet’ should have told me everything then and there. He drew me in. His intelligence, steadfast confidence, sweet words and promises. After finding out months into the relationship that he lived in, not just a different city, no, he lived in a different province. I thought, sure, give it a shot. I stuck around after finding out he lived with his apparently ‘crazy’ ex-girlfriend following a text from her from his cell phone in the middle of the night:
‘Who’s this?’
Annie believed Stinson when he described his living situation with his apparently ‘ex’-girlfriend like living with a ‘cheeseburger.’
I was convinced that what we had was different. Real. He diffused me and cooed he would be home soon. It was all worth it. We were going to be together forever. I pleaded with him to keep things casual, to stay friends, until he tied up any loose ends he had with his ‘ex’ girlfriend and, small detail, until he lived in the province fulltime. He wouldn’t have it.
“You know we can’t just be friends,” he’d say to me (how ironic.) “I know what I want.”
With that I would give in. I endured the nasty emails from his live-in ‘ex’ girlfriend.
“It’s like living with a cheeseburger,” he’d assure me.
Finally he was back in the province. He came through with his promise to move. I’d ignore my friend’s warnings. Didn’t say boo when he showed up two hours late for Thanksgiving and then left shortly after for the local country bar without saying goodbye to my siblings.
Sometimes he just wouldn’t show up. He was tired. He’d apologize profusely the next day. Apparently, my play rehearsals were to blame. We were working on opposite schedules. I guess he was just too tired to at least text me and cancel..or he had, and I guess they got lost in the Bermuda Triangle which happened to be between his and my cell phones. I wanted so badly to believe him.
When he didn’t show up to my play, which was incredibly important to me, I was convinced it was from a misunderstanding. When my cat was on her deathbed…he was out of town. If not, he would have helped me. I got texts and messages from people I hadn’t spoken to for years asking if she was alright the day after the incident and from him…silence.
Come to think of it, Stinson is like a cat. He would patiently hunt down his conquest and play with it and endure the defences it put up. Once bored…instead of walking away…he’d stop playing but he wouldn’t exactly leave. He’d keep pawing at it once in awhile just to make sure it knew he was still there. As soon as he saw his next opportunity for a hunt…he’d be gone. Leaving his old toy half dead to lick their wounds.
Those emails from his ex were warnings. She said she unfortunately thought she was going to spend the rest of her life with him. heh. Guess he’d sold that angle before. She warned me the communication slowly dwindled between him and her as things heated up between me and him. He did the same thing to me. He kept me stringing along while he fished the cyber waters for a prospective replacement. I knew it was coming. With my foolish profession of love, was his rejection and news that he had met somebody else…I was too late…as much as it pained him to tell me so.
I didn’t listen to my instincts. I think that’s why my stomach wouldn’t keep anything down but liquids for days. My gut was ticked off at me for ignoring it as long as I did.
I refuse to give up on the notion of a white knight. He doesn’t have to be perfect. Just perfect for me. Maybe if I try an online dating site where you’d have to pay a membership fee I’ll have better luck? Surely the men on those sites will take it more seriously? Maybe a little too seriously. That experience is up next…
Please check in for our psychotherapist, Ali Goldfield’s, analysis of this relationship and the third and final blog from Annie regarding her online dating experiences. Please send us YOUR story.
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