Stupid Fuck Face – Survived by Tara

WHO: O, that stupid fuck face I was dating for the last month and some change

WHAT: After a heartfelt-ish apology following the birthday lingerie debacle, I decided to give it one more week

WHEN: This past week, aka the last week of 2015

WHERE: COLD AS HELL SEATTLE. I totally realize that hell probably isn’t cold, but for the sake of this moment and how I’m feeling, it is. So there.

WHY: Because I am too trusting, because I don’t want to spend New Years alone, because secretly I want to see the good in people, because when someone tells you that you are important and amazing and pretty and fun and sees a future with you, you want to believe them. You also want to wonder why they spewed it out in one giant run on sentence, but that is neither here nor there.

THE DATE
I was mad. As I should be. I don’t need to tell you the story again. It was humiliating, and the way O was making me feel now versus when we first started hanging out was a total 360.

I will now go on a short tangent.

The only other time I dressed up all sexy-style was when my long distance boyfriend of many years was coming for a visit. I had decided to wear a sexy bra and undies underneath a knee length coat and pick him up at the airport in Lola, my 2 door very old Honda Civic. I was running late and hopped into the car, realizing that the jacket was missing a few buttons and didn’t close over my giant booty all the way. I reminded myself it was just the boyfriend who would see me and headed out anyway.

I picked him up, he was cranky because his flight was delayed, I was late, he was hangry, and I realized when I hugged him that sexy car sex was going to be out of the question due to his cranky jerk-like nature. So I tightened my jacket and we headed home.

About 4 min later, exiting onto the 101, my car starts smoking. Then it sputters, and dies. It’s 10pm. There is SMOKE EVERYWHERE. Like gross black smoke. The thick fog-like kind. We jet out of the car and the boyfriend is screaming at me to give him my coat to bat the smoke away (why?), and I scream that I can’t. We get into a HUGE fight, and then I throw my coat at him. He sees that I’m ALMOST NAKED standing on the side of the highway and returns my coat. AAA is called, the car is toast. I have to squeeze into a 3-seater truck with a fat mechanic who can TOTALLY see that I’m not wearing anything under my jacket and a VERY cranky boyfriend who is not happy with life for 30 minutes back to the city. So see? I have terrible luck with trying to be sexy.

Back to the present. So I gave O a week. I was spending Christmas Eve/Christmas day alone, and we had tentative plans to meet up Eve after dinner with his family. I’m out with a few friends eating 6 appetizers (all were fried, all covered in cheese, and yes there was Bacon, and yes it was amazing), and I assumed he’d be meeting up with us.

Phone call at 11pm. He has to drive his step grandmother home because everyone got drunk and he was the only sober one. Family comes first, totally get it, not mad.  

Phone call at 11:45pm. He’s not going to come over before work and have lunch (he works at 3pm). The snow is tooooo good and he is heading North. Still not mad, but getting annoyed.

Christmas day phone call around 5pm. I’m tucked into my apartment with Scrubs on the TV. He ran into a tree snowboarding and it feels like he’s broken alllllll his ribs and he’s in so much pain (Karma, bitch). He does want to pop by to say hi after work, and since I haven’t seen him since the birthday apology, I let him.

Christmas day 11:05pm. He wants me to look at his ribs (because I’m a fucking doctor?! However, I do feel like after watching  5 seasons of Scrubs in one week that I could TOTALLY tell if his rib was broken or not. Nailed that whole doctor thing). He’s in a lot of pain, can’t get up off of my couch without help, and I send him home with some arnica cream.

The next day at noon. He calls to say he’s feeling better (UM FUCK YEAH! MY DOCTOR SKILLZ RULE! Thank you JD and Turk). We make plans to grab a drink after he gets off work.

6pm text: “Hey, can’t come over tonight. Forgot I have to feed the roomie’s cat and I’m going to see about buying a motorcycle in the morning. But I’ll call you later and we can talk about New Years plans!”

Um, I’m sorry. You can go ride a motorcycle with “hurt” ribs, but you can’t muster time to hang out with me?! I am a good doctor, but I’m not that good. Jerk face.

11pm he finally calls. We chat about the day, he goes on and on about the motorcycle, his day, etc. He’s got Monday and Tuesday off and he’s hoping to either to ride the bike, or to go snowboarding again. He’s got friends in town for the holiday and he can’t wait to see them, and never once does he ask me about my day, what my plans are, or asks me how I’m doing. I’m pissed. And I know this seems insensitive of me, but it feels like excuse after excuse after excuse. We make plans for New Years, kinda. He’ll be off work and I’ll be free after 10pm, and he’s all like, “Yeah, we’ll hang out and play it by ear.” I roll my eyes and say something passive agressive and decide I need to not talk to him for 24 hours.

Cut to Monday, like two days ago. I’m over it. I WILL NOT START MY YEAR OFF in weird limbo with someone who obviously doesn’t want to spend time with me or at least make me a small priority. I’m 32 years old and I refuse to let someone make me feel like this. I know what I deserve, I know what I want, and it’s not him, and its not this situation. (I also know that I don’t want to be a doctor. I stubbed my toe and it started bleeding and I almost passed out. Noted.)

So I called him on Monday, and he didn’t pick up. Left a message asking him to call me back, nothing out of the norm. If I was going to dump someone, I wanted to do it correctly and politely. I wasn’t mad, just done.

Now it’s Tuesday, 11pm. I haven’t heard from him so I shoot a text. It gets delivered, and then it gets read. (Fucking IPHONE. I love and hate you. I love that I can tell when someone reads my texts, but I HATE knowing someone has read my texts. Then I get all sweaty and nervous and wonder why it’s taking them so long. WHY IS IT TAKING SO LONG! Then the … bubble pops up, and then disappears, and it’s a very stressful time.)

Silence.

Again, I’m not going to start my 2016 with this shit. So I do what anyone would do. I dumped him via text message, deleted his number, and am starting off 2016 with a clean, single slate.

If this year has taught me anything, it’s that I deserve someone great. I know it sounds cliche, but after 8 weddings and what feels like hundreds of dates this year, I’m not going to compromise on finding someone that lets my freak flag fly, that wants to bust a Salsa move even though they have two left feet, that isn’t weirded out that my sister and I call each other when we poop, that appreciates my weird Bacon obsession, that understands that I have my own life, my own hopes and schemes, and wants to support me and be there for me if needed.

AND GOD DAMN IT, I WANT SOMEONE THAT WILL APPRECIATE MY STUPID, TIME CONSUMING, SEXY LINGERIE. Happy New Years.