The Dating Game

The angry text message came through this morning. "Why didn't you call me back Monday? I deserve better than what you give." Then before I could reply, a second one, "I'll mail back the jacket you left in the hotel. Good luck in the future." I guess the Postman decided to not go quietly into that good night.

 

I don't know what is worse when the end comes in a relationship - being the dumpee or the dumper. I can tell you that without exception, every time I was the dumpee, I was not given the satisfaction of a conversation or any form of closure with the dumper. The phone calls and emails just stopped coming. So I swore I would never treat my dumpees that way.

 

So when I ended it with Lonnie, I told him exactly why I didn't want to see him again. Except for the being stupid part. I don't think he would've understood that. It was like clubbing a baby seal to death. It was exhausting for me and painful for him. And even after that he continued to call and email me asking what happened. Stupid is as stupid does, I guess.

 

So this time, I swore I would try "the fade" as it appears this is the most popular method used by guys, at least in  my case. I wish being evasive worked for my psyche but it doesn't. I replied to his text messages offering to talk tonight, offering up the real but not-entirely-honest excuse of being too busy with family commitments the last few nights to call back. As of yet, no reply. And I don't know what would be worse, receiving the package holding my jacket, silently rebuking my rebuff. Or a difficult phone call this evening, nicely explaining, "It's not you, it's me!" More lies but meant to salve his wounded ego.

 

I think of the many times I've been the dumpee. Spaceman, sending me an email saying he was busy every night until further notice. Erik, who did the classic fade, only to call me a year later, take me out to meet his entire family, then fade again before showing up on Facebook a week later "in a relationship" (I'm STILL trying to figure that one out). And don't even get me going about Jesus or PAL. PAL didn't even tell me before he was HOSPITALIZED and his girlfriend was by his side at the hospital. Talk about not giving closure.

 

So I sit looking at my cell phone on my desk, waiting for another damning text message. What is worse - the silence or the guilt. Either way, it's a game I'd rather not play.