Real stories about dating and relationships in New York City. Truth is more interesting than fiction.


Please accept my apologies for the inferior quality of last night’s post. It’s not as well-written or well thought out as it could or should be.

is, I was having a really good night last night and was in a good mood when I started the post. Then I received an email from an ex-boyfriend and it was like a storm cloud of doom blew into my apt. and rained all over me. After that, I wasn’t able to focus on my writing, think straight, or even sleep. I probably should’ve given up on the post, altogether, but I’m too stubborn for that.

It’s not this way with all of my . I count one of them as one of my good friends. And there are others I’m on good terms with. But this particular one I’ve asked a few dozen times to stay out of my life, to not call, not write, to just plain leave me the fuck alone.

I thought he’d finally gotten the message, as it’d been over a month since I’d heard from him (it was a nice month) and so when I saw his name in my inbox I flipped out a little.

You see, every time I hear from him I start to feel bad all over again. It’s not about the horrible things he did, or how poorly he behaved. I got over that stuff a long time ago. Each time I hear from him I remember how certain I was that he was the one, that he was a 100% good guy who would never hurt me. And then I remember how wrong I was, how he turned into a bad guy who completely disregarded my feelings. Those fill me with anger and .

I started dating again right after we split up. I’ve always believed in getting right back on the horse. Less than a week passed between the time I asked him to return my keys and my first date with someone else. But then, after a few dates, I stopped. I realized that I wasn’t able to trust my judgment anymore, wasn’t able to trust men. And because of that I had to take a few months off from dating, completely.

Whether I like it or not, a part of me still gets dragged back to that place of doubt and mistrust every time I hear from him. It’s not a place I like to visit. I used to think that the only cure was for him to apologize to me for all of the harm he did, for misleading me and being mean, etc. And then I realized that it didn’t matter whether or not he ever apologized or understood the hurt he caused. All that matters, really, is that I understand that it was just another mistake. One that I’ve learned from and that I’m not likely to make again. And that dwelling on it was/is keeping me from finding the happiness I deserve.

Anyway. Sorry about the distracted post. I have another date tonight with necking guy. Hopefully I’ll have something fun to write about tomorrow.

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