I am down in the fucking dumps today. I don’t just mean down, I mean I am literally sitting in a dumpster just waiting for someone to shit on me. Because I think Matt is dumping me in about twelve hours.
I say “dumping” lightly because we ALL know we still haven’t had the DTR. And fuck, what a rejection—before it even began. Guess who feels like a loser? Ahem, ME. Lucky the loser McFatty.
I guess I need to back things up and explain myself. Last week was good until…Thursday. Matt came to visit me at work, and we went for a walk so I could get out of the office, which was nice. He told me he had a company dinner to go to, but if it was cancelled, he would come over. Later, he told me he still had to go to the dinner, so I said “Okay! Eat lots of yummy free food!” Because that’s certainly what I would do. Duh.
And I get no response. Now, I know you’re already thinking I’m psycho. But up until that point, Matt replies my texts within the hour—if he doesn’t, he sends me a reason, i.e: “Sorry, I fell asleep,” or “Sorry, I was on the phone.” And it’s no big deal. But about four hours passed without anything. But I just went to sleep, thinking it was no big deal.
Fast forward to 2 am, when I wokeup because the apartment next to mine was on fire. Feeling rather safe in my bed, I noticed Matt still never wrote me back, which got me worried. I am a worrier, I get scared that people wreck—because I’ve lost people that way. So I called him. The phone rang, rang, rang, voicemail. I didn’t leave a message, but I couldn’t sleep. I stayed up watching TV, and saw he texted me around 2:45 am, saying his phone died and he fell asleep. Whatever. I was a little pissed, but I tried to put it behind me.
Friday, things weren’t any better. He was ignoring my texts, which makes me really upset. Enter: Lucky’s Baggage. I’ve had two guys “dump” me by simply not returning my calls. One was my first love, who quit returning my calls four years ago and is now married, the other guy gave me mono, then quit returning my calls three years ago and is now married with a kid.
So, although many years have passed, this is baggage that I have battled since then. I try, I really do, not to let it get to me, but it brings out the psycho in me, really bad. Now, Matt hasn’t done anything to make me distrust him, so I was trying to stay calm. But his behavior was so out of the norm. But we had plans for Friday night and he showed up in a good mood, and I was happy to see him.
We headed over to my friends’ house, a place I call the Chicken Coop. I wanted them to meet Matt, so they did, we had some beers and then went to dinner. Of course, they loved Matt. When he left the table for the restroom, they were like, “Lucky!!! He is so nice! He is just great.”
We went home early, as we had a tailgate time of 9am Saturday. When we got home, despite the three goblets of beer I had in my system, I wanted to talk about the little incident. I told him I didn’t want to bring baggage into our relationship, but I was also trying to be as honest as possible. I skated over my exes, and just told him it was something I was working on. He was like, “you don’t need to worry about me,” which I know, and I told him I wasn’t trying to treat him like a baby. The issue was resolved, and we went to sleep.
The next morning, we got ready for the game and met up with Matt’s friends at their usual tailgate spot. It was my first time meeting a whole new bath of guys, so I came equipped with a case of beer, homemade hot wings, and bubbly and OJ for a proper mimosa. The guys loved it, and Matt was grateful. But as the alcohol started flowing, it was clear we were on the road to stupid drunk fighting town.
When it game time for the game to start, we decided to join our friends at a local bar. So we hopped in the car and drove a few blocks. When we stepped out of the car, Matt noticed a massive scratch and dent on the side of his truck. We didn’t know if we hit something, or if something hit us. Matt was really upset, and I understood, but I was honestly too drunk to care.
He later apologized for his attitude, and we headed home. I was way more intoxicated than I realized and was copping an attitude. I felt like he was still mad over something and I didn’t appreciate it. So on the drive home, he was getting angrier at me, saying I was acting like I never wanted to talk to him again. Which made me cry. I was just tired, drunk, and frustrated, but the last thing I wanted was for us never to talk again. He asked if it would be okay if he didn’t sleep at my house, which made me more upset.
We got to my apartment and he started pacing around, and slamming his clothes into his bag, which made me cry more. He told me to quit crying and tell him what was wrong. At that point I didn’t even know what was wrong. So he ran out of my apartment, and I chased after him. I told him I just didn’t want to talk now because we were obviously both upset, but I didn’t want him to go to bed mad. So he said he wasn’t mad and I gave him a hug goodbye. But I went inside, called him, and asked him if he really had to leave. I just wanted to make things better. He said, yes I have to leave. I am tired and it’s been a long day. So I said goodbye and cried myself to sleep.
The next morning, I wokeup and noticed Matt left his phone charger, a pair of glasses, and a shirt. He texted me good morning, and I asked him if there was any way I could see him to return his things and apologize. He said yes, that he would stop by that afternoon.
Let me set the record straight here: I am not someone who constantly has to have these “talks” all the god damned time. But the last relationship I was in, was incredibly fucked up, and it forced me to sweep alot of things under the rug, and I’m really trying to be honest here.
So the entire Sunday passes and Matt doesn’t stop by, so naturally I whine to Gizzy all day. Around 4, Matt texts me saying he feels rotten, and wants to stop by in the morning. I tell him I really wanted to see him and make things right between us today, but if he’s too tired then Monday morning would be fine. So he says he’ll see me Monday.
Monday morning, I am just a ball of nerves thinking he’s going to come over and dump my ass. He says he’s caught in traffic and wants to meet somewhere so I’m not late for work. So I head out and meet him in a parking lot. He’s like, “Why are you so upset?” I said, “Because I feel like you’re mad at me, but we were both drunk and it was stupid, and I’m sorry.” He says he isn’t mad at me at all, that he is mad at himself for getting too drunk, acting like an idiot, and damaging his car. I told him not to beat himself up over it too much. He gives me a kiss goodbye, and I think everything is okay.
But ever since then, it’s been awful. He only replies a handful of my texts, doesn’t answer my calls, and has completely quit flirting with me, no more pet names, no more asking me on dates. I feel like he is repulsed by me. My friends were encouraging me to talk to him about it, but I feel like I keep having these “talks” and it’s getting on my nerves. However, I texted him last night saying I missed the Matt that would flirt with me and call me baby, he replied, “I’m sorry baby.” But then ignored my text afterward. I told him I missed him and cared about him, but I feel like he isn’t attracted to me anymore, and I just want to know what’s up. So he said he will call me tonight.
And I just don’t know what to think. I hate waiting around. I understand that he’s upset over getting drunk and crazy, but we all do it and we all make mistakes. Like damn! I am not ready for it to end, but I do need more communication from him—tell me if you need space or if you want me to call you or what, you know? So dear readers, all two of you, I need your advice. Do you think it’s over?
Another one bites the dust.