The narcissist

Let me tell you all this story. For some reason, initially, I had a slight instinct that this may be something that only women in LA deal with — or Taylor Swift. (Love all the Swifty comparisons?) However, upon venturing to Texas this past weekend and chatting with a friend in Chicago, these types men (narcissists) are wreaking havoc (and hell) all around the U.S. As my friend Shauna puts it, “Good men are a dying breed.”

Don’t get me wrong. I’m still hopeful. Surely Clay Matthews will exceed any expectations I may have. (Sorry, I had to.) But how discouraging is it when you go on date and meet guys and they aren’t able to fulfill your expectations? Not just the “maybe he’ll be a keeper” expectation, but even the “maybe we can be friends” expectation?

Or worse, you have no feeling for them at all. You don’t hate them, but you don’t like them either. It’s disappointing. I get it, you’re not going to have sparks nor get along with everyone, but it would be nice to “feel” something, if that makes any sense. I guess that’s God’s way of weeding out people you’re not supposed to be with?

Back to the Taylor Swift reference. I have a theory regarding Swifty: she only dates gays. She’s the Beard of the Year, my friends, and she will date the gays until the cows come home. This serves her two purposes: she doesn’t have to do jack crap with any of them, and when they break up with her, she can write about what a-holes they all are. I mean, she doesn’t knowingly date them because they’re gay. She just wonders why none of them have attempted to grab her boob in, oh, 10 months. The only person, I believe, wasn’t gay? John Mayer. I think he’s probably a real freak in the sheets and has probably flushed the opposite way (how I feel about most men who have had their pick of way too many women), but he’s mostly all for the ovaries.

SO, what I’m definitely not trying to say here is that I date gay men. Nope. I can confidently (well, 99% sure) say that all of my exes were straight. Unlike Swifty, I have a great gaydar, so I know when a man wants a hug-kiss-kiss routine or wants the horizontal handshake, if you get my drift.

Ed is a dude that saw me doing pilates and cardio kickboxing at the gym. I can’t emphasize how CREEPSTATIC it is when a man approaches a female at the gym. Anything you say is going to be weird. “I saw you breaking a real intense sweat in class!” “You have a great body.” “Let me teach you how to properly lift those dumbbells.” “Is your colon swollen?” Just kidding on the last one, but that definitely made me laugh.

I was racing out to my car (it was starting to rain) and he followed me there. It was real creepster-esque and it made me jump when I turned around and noticed him.

“Hi… I’m Ed. I saw you doing pilates and cardio kickboxing. You have a lot of stamina.” (See what I mean? Awkward.)

“Uh… thanks. Who are you?” (I know, rather bitchy.)

“Haha, you’re fiesty! I’m Ed.” (Being a bitch means fiesty if you say “yall” and have blonde hair.)

“Okay, cool.” Awkward silence.

“So, I saw you and I was wondering, do you come here often? Because I have been wanting to take classes and didn’t know how they were.” (Unlucky for me, I am a talker.)

“Oh yeah, they’re great. They get crowded so come early.” Notice the zero ethusiasm in my punctuation, as depicted in my actual tone at that point.

“Well, you have a great body so I need to do whatever you doing!” At this point, I give him the death glare, which basically insinuates “You’re a creep” or “Go to hell,” when he does something that puts me at ease.

The hand flop.

“OH — no.” Hand flop. Shakes his head.

Do you know the hand flop? It’s basically when you’re holding your forearm up towards your shoulder, elbow bent, while the hand flops like a dead fish. Most commonly seen depicted in the movies to insinuate a male is homosexual.

At this point, I made a schiesty move and gave him my number. I figured having a gay accountability partner would great given it would force me to the gym and since most of the gays I know are super critical of people’s appearances, I would work extra hard to not look like a fatass.

So we hit up a few classes. He asks if I’m going to Zumba. Yes. I am. And let me tell you, his hips don’t lie. No man should be able to move their hips like that. I was confident that I had a single homosexual male on my hands, no questions ask.

Maybe after two classes together, I pretty much drop his calls because a) we wouldn’t talk during class, which was bizarre and b) I have nothing tied to this friendship. Apparently Ed was invested because the weekend my cell phone was stolen, I got my new one and had four voicemails in eight hours from him. Side note: voicmails annoy the crap out of me. Unless you’re confirming an appointment or telling me I won a million dollars, there’s no need to blab for five minutes when I can just call you back.

He’s texting me every other day, and at one point I’m at the gym, on the tred, and he’s texting me:

“Hey Kirbie! I think I saw you walk in to the gym. Come by the weight area and say hi!”

Of course I ignore this and finish up my workouts, then peace out. I have no desire to see this person, nor do I think I could have picked his face out of a crowd at this point.

Then, on a Monday morning, after endless no responses and straight up avoidance, I get this gem at 7:30 in the morning:

 

Things:

  • “Gave” you my number? More like I pitied you.
  • “Must have been attracted or interested…” False. Neither. Way to think too highly of yourself. Also, let’s remind ourselves that I’ve avoided your calls and texts for four weeks straight.

The follows up that text with something along the lines of, “I promise you won’t regret it :)” which really pissed me of because I’m already regretful of giving out my number and I hate it when men use smiley faces. So I respond with with the following, that I wish I had saved:

Hey Ed. Two things: A) It’s a tad inappropriate to be texting at 7:30, especially since I’m pretty much a stranger. B) I am sorry if I gave you the wrong impression, however I have a serious boyfriend that I’m very much in love with and I’m not looking to date anyone else. I stopped responding to your texts and would appreciate if you would stop sending them. Thanks for your understanding.

He wrote back with a “I’m sorry, I had no idea about your relationship. Good luck with that. Also, I didn’t realize 7:30 was too early.”

I had been up since 5:00 to work out, but it doesn’t matter. It’s not kosher to be texting someone you don’t know before normal business hours. Plus, this is LA, ED! Half the people here work nights. I’m semi concerned that this issue was so pressing that you felt the need to hash it out at 7:30 in the morning… Furthermore, “You must have been interested or attracted”? Really now? Instant turn off. Not like I was remotely attracted in the first place.

My point is this: why are men such idiots? When looking for a potentinal mate, I don’t ask for a lot. I’d like for him to be a man’s man, with a good heart, who is witty and intelligent, but not overbearing. I think most women will agree with me when I say I want a man. Someone who is confident in his own right but is always humble and does what is right because, well, it’s right. Not someone who is going to boast about everything, or change who he is for people to like him, or act like a child who has no control over his life. Who stays true to his word, isn’t a flake, and doesn’t play games.

Is that too much to ask?

Ladies, can I get an amen?

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Is it over? The Social Network edition

I think one of the hardest things when you’re breaking up with someone is answering this question:

“When is it really over?”

The fat lady has essentially sung her final verse and you and your significant other have decided to call it quits. For most people in extended relationships, it goes something like this:

End relationship.

Still talk.

Still text.

Still phone.

Still say ‘I love you.’

Still miss them.

Still think about them 24/7.

Still wonder what they’re doing and who they’re doing it with.

Still worry if they’re okay.

Still vomit at the thought of them with someone else.

And during this phase you’re probably still following them on Twitter and remain their Facebook friend. You know, to keep tabs. To see what girls (or boys — guys, I know you read) are writing on their wall and following them. Social media has made it possible to still know every little detail of your ex without actually ever having to speak to them ever again.

I remember my last break up, and in the moments of where I felt my heart was completely shattered, I remember saying something like this: “I will never see you ever again.” And the sad part is I didn’t say that out of spite or that I wouldn’t want to see him again (I did. Trust.), but it was the truth. To this day, I haven’t seen him since the day we broke up. But I still knew what he was up to thanks to the internet.

Not trying to be a Debbie Downer here, but I know some of you people are going through exactly what I went through, and for lack of better words? It sucks. I know you all are going through this because I’ve had several texts, phone calls and emails over the last few months from people who never thought they would be in this position, asking me for advice and help. I am transparent it seems, and when my heart was broken, you all were well aware.

As much as I love to help, I know I can’t. You have to live through the questions and find the answers, even when it hurts like hell. The thing worse than going through heartache? Watching your friends go through it. It’s like reliving the entire situation.

So, back to social media. You’re watching their friends talk about how they’re doing and what they’re doing and somehow you know exactly where this person is without even asking. It’s kind of nice in that you won’t run into them accidentally and feel your heart fall into your butt. Or, if you’re super cray, you’ll “accidentally” run into them at the pub so you can hash out the whole drama in public. Am I right? I’ve seen too many women and men do it before (I’ve been to afraid to do something bold like that).

When is it over? When do you know you are ready to move on and forget the past? For some of you, just reading that sentence makes you want to throw up your lunch. “Forget the past? I love this person! I want to make it work! I want to have hope!” Listen, I’m not against the falling back in love and making it work part. However, I know that if you’re just going through a breakup, there are too many wounds to heal to resusitate the relationship immediately. It will take time. Take growth. Take forgiveness. Take trust. All of those things combined can end up in a happy, healthy, relationship with a person you used to be in one with.

But I’m not talking reconciliation. I’m talking about the part where you want to move forward and not be hurt anymore. When does that happen? How do you know?

Some simple thoughts:

  • That song you heard that made you bust into tears when initially breaking up? You can listen to it. The whole way through. No tears.
  • You can unfriend and defollow them. Not out of spite, but because you know it’s not healthy to keep staring at their page and analyzing their tweets.
  • You don’t worry about doing said things (above) and that the person will love you less because you did so.
  • You’re content with the thought that they have moved on. If they’re happy, you are. Even if they cheated, you still find that the situation was supposed to happen.
  • You’re not dating just to say that you’ve found someone new. You’re dating to legitimately find and enjoy another person. You’re open to the possibility of a new relationship. This one is the kicker!
  • You don’t worry about them… as much. You know they’re fine without you.
  • You don’t feel compelled to reach out and contact them, just to keep communication alive — just in case a reconcilation is coming up.
  • You don’t get upset with what went wrong. You can fondly remember the good, funny and sentimental times.

There are a myriad of others, but I’ll spare you for now. The most difficult part of breaking up? Shutting the other person out. It’s nearly impossible to maintain a friendship immediately after breaking up, as much as you’d like to. It’s like on How I Met Your Mother. Barney dated Robin; they broke up. Barney then talks about all his latest conquests in front of Robin; she ends up crying in a hallway somewhere. She ends up meeting someone, starts to like him, but with her ex-boyfriend as a part of her group of friends, she decides to essentially “quit” the group for awhile until she can fully function in another relationship without Barney interfering.

And that’s what will keep happening when you’re intertwined, online, with this person you used to care about. You’re broken up because you don’t want to be with the person. Simple as that. (Or they don’t want to be with you. Sorry.) Otherwise, you’d still be with them, they’d still be with you. Easy. Stop dragging around and letting the communicating flow like wine. It’s not helping them, not you — no one.

So like a band aid, rip it off. Unfriend. Unfollow. Move on. And maybe one day, you two will be able to meet back up on The Social Network… and possibly in real life.

Then again? Maybe not.