So here's the entire thing:
So you know I've been seeing Zak but I thought he wasn't very into me. He and I saw each other on Friday the 17th. I thought it went well but didn't hear from him on Saturday so I texted him on Sunday. Took him 5 hours to answer but he was playing in a golf tournament so I let it slide. I did, however, think that if he wanted date #5, he should take the initiative, so I waited.
And waited. And waited.
Finally Thursday rolls around and I have not heard from him, and I'm planning to go to this social event/drinks at a pub near his place with Caroline and Sophia, so I decide to invite him to join us. I know he won't come but I thought it'd give him the chance to suggest a better time for us to get together. He writes back an hour or so later and says that he's playing squash and having dinner with work colleagues and then he has to prepare for an exam. That's all he writes. Hmm. So I text back that he's even busier than I thought and that it's kind of hard for him to squeeze me into a schedule like that. Winking smiley face.
He writes back that we should try to get together during the weekend or Monday.
Me: Ok, sure, no pressure. How's Saturday?
Him: Maybe on Saturday. If not, Monday.
Me: Ok, sure, just let me know.
Saturday comes and goes and I hear nothing. Ditto Sunday, for that matter.
And I'd say that's the end of it but he did actually write today to say he can't meet tonight but how about Thursday? I'm busy on Thursday and suggested next week and then kind of threw in that it'd be nice to see him before he heads back to the US for Thanksgiving if he can't meet next week. He wrote back that we will meet next week. Mmm hmmm.
I'm not mad about it, just kind of over it. And thought it was over on his end and he was just letting it fade out. But writing to me and providing another time to meet suggests some level of interest but a weird communication problem.
So...kind of thought things were over and went to that social event on Thursday. Met a Portugese guy. Very, very cute. Very, very interesting. Unfortunately, only visiting Prague. He lived here for three years but has gone back to Portugal and was just here visiting for a week (flight back today).
But I felt like we had chemistry and we exchanged numbers, talked a lot, and we parted with him kissing my hand and saying it was a nice surprise to meet me and he'd be in touch.
I look him up on Facebook. He's friends with David. Also, he was saying things that were reminiscent of Chris so I called him out and...yes, he's well schooled in the seduction community. And, again, leaving to go back to Portugal. So...when he texted me Friday evening to ask me out for drinks on Saturday afternoon, I should've said no, because those were all bad signs but I was a bit giddy about him (will send you to his website so you can see him).
Anyway, had drinks on Saturday. That went well. We kissed a bit but not much and we were only together for about 2.5 hours because he needed to go to a dinner party and he asked me if I wanted to get dinner on Sunday or go to a movie. I chose the movie. 8 PM at a popular expat pub, so free movie, expensive drinks.
Aaaaaaand cut to WORST DATE EVER:
So movie starts at 8 and I decide that I will get there around 7:45 because that seems reasonable. And it's a good thing too because I get one of the last tables but I am a bit worried about him showing up because he hasn't contacted me all day and I'm worried that there was no confirmation. So I order a beer and I wait and wait and wait. I write and erase texts to him, thinking that I don't want to sound neurotic for asking if he's coming but wonder if he's coming. I finally send one about 8:05, and not 20 seconds later, he walks in. So, embarrassing, impatient text message sent and received. Nice.
I don't mind terribly that he's late and am just relieved that he's there. He tells me that he's invited others so he looks around for spare chairs but there aren't really going to be any because the place is packed. He orders a wine and then decides that we should move over to a table where he knows a couple of people. And so we do.
It's a boyfriend and girlfriend and he talks to the girl a bit and makes a joke that she doesn't find funny and he tries to play it off like she just doesn't get it but it's a really awkward moment.
Eventually the movie starts; he texts quite a bit throughout it. At one point, he leaves because his mom is calling (or whoever he tells me is his mom). His friends come and join us. They stay for about 5 minutes, tell him they're heading to another bar, and they leave.
The movie ends and these four film students who had been sitting on the floor come and join our table. One of them is a very pretty blonde girl from Florida. Andre introduces himself to all of them but he starts talking quite a bit to the blonde girl. He does, to his credit, try to engage me in their conversation but they start talking about a movie that I've not seen so I can't add anything. And then I feel like she's trying to shut me out.
He ends up GETTING HER EMAIL ADDRESS AND PHONE NUMBER. I realize at that point that I should leave. The part of me that has any self respect thinks he's crossed a line and I should maintain my dignity. The part of me that has no self respect thinks I should leave because she's prettier than I am and doesn't it suck for him to be stuck with me when he could be with her?
But his friends text and he wants to go meet them at the pub where they are, and he invites these four film students to join us but they're in a big group and don't want to join. Andre and I leave.
When we get outside, I tell him that that had never happened to me before. "What, me being social?" he said. He said that she really hit on him, but that doesn't explain his taking her number now, does it?
So we arrive at the second pub and it's packed. No free chairs. So he pulls up a stool beside his friends, slaps his hand on it, and tells me to sit there. So I do. And I spend a few minutes fiddling with my coat and purse, deciding where I can put them. I see him talking at the bar with someone and realize I should get myself a drink but he comes over as I'm standing and he hands me a beer. He leaves.
I sit on my stool so I'm like at least a foot taller than everyone else I'm with and sort of hover over them, trying to make small talk and trying to pretend like I'm really into the live music.
My eyes scan the room and I make eye contact with this guy named John who I never told you about, I think, but basically someone who does not like me one bit. He smiles sheepishly at me and waves and I hide my head in my hands. He strolls by later and I poke him in the arm and we talk for a bit. Turns out he was going to play at the open mic night but he canceled his song because I'm there and he can't sing in front of me. He tells me I'm very fake as all Americans are and he giggles while I tell him about what I've been up to. It felt like being mocked but I realize after the fact that I used to make him giggle because he was so attracted to me. So that's probably what it was but it felt awkward at the time.
Andre is going from table to table and talking with everyone. He knows everyone. Every now and then I'll feel his hand on my back and he's appeared to ask if I'm having fun. Yes, I'm having fun, I tell him.
Finally the crowd dwindles to the point where he's got nothing better than to talk to me. In all fairness, I do understand that he was only back for a week and wanted to see his friends and it was sort of sweet for him to invite me along and I think of his being friends with David and how David would never be seen in public with me and Andre was introducing me to lots of people so...there was something nice about that. And understandable that he couldn't give up an evening to date me. But it made me feel pretty crappy.
We end up kissing a little bit in the bar, and then he tells me that he wants to take me to a door frame (like an alcove, I guess) to kiss me more. So we end up making out like teenagers in the streets and then he says that if he still lived in that neighborhood, he'd invite me back to his place. But he's just visiting and sleeping on someone's sofa, so he says I have the control. And I say nothing. I do not invite him back to my place. We kiss a bit more and then we go for the night trams. His comes 15 minutes before mine and he says he wants to take it because otherwise he'd have to wait 30 minutes and I understand this entirely but then spend 15 minutes standing outside in the cold by myself. It's 2 am at that point.
I go home, feel like an idiot and want to cry.
THE END
It took him five hours to respond. He was playing in a golf tournament, so I understand, but I also just keep thinking He’s Just Not That into Me. So we texted back in forth about three times each and I decided that if he wanted another date, it would have to be his initiative.
It is now Thursday. Nothing from him. It’s not weird, really, as he’s so busy but I’m disappointed. I was convinced I would’ve heard from him by yesterday. I’m going out for drinks tonight with Sophia and Caroline at a Couchsurfing event that’s near to his apartment. I’m tempted to invite him along, knowing he’ll turn it down but as an excuse to make contact and prompt him to ask me out. But what’s the point when He’s Just Not That into Me.
Shot off an email on OK Cupid that may lead to a date; the guy has written back but I haven’t read it yet since I won’t access that from work. Also had a mail from a guy in Michigan who seems very similar to me so I’ve responded but, you know, that’s in Michigan.
I was thinking on Monday about my future. I’m going to update my CV and start looking at what’s out there. I really like my job but I have to move on at some point, and I’ve been working here for more than two years now.
I’m going to London from next Wednesday through Saturday to visit Kev. When I get back, I’m going to a Halloween party. I ordered a costume but I don’t know if it’ll arrive in time. If not, I need some sort of backup.
Got an email from David today asking when I’m coming to Brussels. Haven’t answered yet. Haven’t spoken to Chris in a week (wow, go me!). Dan doesn’t want to spend New Year’s with me anymore.
And for the absolute minutiae, I caught up on this season’s Project Runway and am now watching Ugly Betty. My weight is pretty much unchanging. This week, I’ve been having rather large lunches and then skipping dinner. I will probably skip dinner tonight too but will have some beers. Still haven’t looked for a gym. Soon.
I’m also sort of sick of talking and thinking about it, to be honest. I have some fantastic stories that I hope to share at some point, but not yet, not now. Such is the case when interesting things happen: it’s just too much for me to recount them until some time passes.
If you are curious, there was a huge announcement made at our dinner on Saturday night in Copenhagen’s town hall. I posted it on my Facebook and you could surely find it if you searched. We’ve had some great news coverage around the world, but I suppose that’s what happens when you gather 300 newspaper editors and writers together for a weekend: they tend to write about you.
It’s snowing in Prague. I’m going to go looking for a new winter coat today after work. I don’t want to do any clothes shopping for a while, but I will make an exception for this because I need it. What I’m wearing today is hanging off of me and looks terrible. I would like to look a bit more put together for my date tomorrow.
That would be date #4 with Zak. We texted a couple of times while I was in Copenhagen. On Tuesday, I texted to ask when I could see him again, and he suggested Friday. I still wish he would be more enthusiastic about me, but he seems to be a nice guy who treats me well and who I find attractive, so I see no reason to abandon it. Also, he’s not taking up all of my free time, and that’s probably best.
Chris wants me to visit him in Vienna this weekend so that he has me on his arm at his best friend’s birthday party. Obviously, I am not going. I am pretty much moving on now, and I don’t think he has moved on at all. He still envisions himself with me. I feel sorry for him, on some level, but he brought it on himself; it’s not as if I dumped him.
He had his meeting at work on Tuesday to determine if he still has a job. He does. He texted me as soon as the meeting ended (I know this because I asked). Yes, I was the first person he told. That says something about my place in his life.
I received the following message from David on Sunday afternoon:
Hello Dear,
I will finally be in Prague tomorrow evening!!! I know last minute planning.. :( but unable to do otherwise, too much work (and, ok, partying as well :) )
Will you be able to host me just for the night!
I am here until tuesday afternoon, I go back to Brussels then. I am only picking up my stuff left in radcanska!
See you soon!!
I didn’t answer this, because I was in Copenhagen and knew he knew that I was in Copenhagen and that he might put 2 and 2 together that I was unavailable. Instead, I heard nothing until I had a missed call around 8:45 on Monday night. Basically, he flew into Brussels, tried to call me (my phone was off), texted me if I was in Prague, and then I finally responded to his Facebook message to say that I was still in Copenhagen and so sorry to have missed him.
He responded that he ended up staying in a hostel and wants to know when I will travel to Brussels to see him. He gave me exact dates with his availability, but the window is so small that I shouldn’t have a problem saying no.
Finally, let me briefly comment on my weight. All of the ordering in at the office and all of the fancy dinners in Copenhagen led to a weight gain of a couple of pounds over the last two weeks. But this morning, I was back down to where I was before: 32.5 pounds lost this year and 66.5 lost total. And now I’m poised to lose even more. I’ll try to find a gym in the coming weeks. I’m feeling fine.
David wrote, on October 2 at 11:22am
Hey Kate,
Sorry for the long delay, still staying at a friend's place, and work work work!
I will tell you more later, but Brussels is fun.
How are you?
D.
Kate wrote, October 2 at 2:04pm:
Hi, David.
I'm glad you're enjoying Brussels. Things have been good here, but quite busy. I'll be in Copenhagen in one week for our conference and, when that's over, my life should go back to normal. I can't wait. :)
After that, I'll try to plan a couple of trips for the fall and I'm going back to the US for a couple of weeks at Christmas. I'll be in Brussels in December, which I think I mentioned to you before. I wonder... :)
David wrote, on October 2 at 2:19pm:
Hey Kate,
I don't think you have mentioned it, but great!
Will you visit someone in particular, or just the town?
Let me know how copenhagen is. What days are you going there? I could visit while you are there maybe, what do you think?
Kate wrote, on October 2 at 4:30pm:
Oh no, I just wrote you a whole explanation of my trip to Brussels and then I lost it when my computer restarted while I was away from my desk. Grr!
So, nutshell version: there's a Christmas shindig that I'm going for--a little cocktail party that should be a lot of fun, and perhaps you'll get to see me all dressed up! :)
As for Copenhagen, I'll be there from the 8th through the 12th. It'd be fantastic if you could pop over, although I'm on a minute schedule so I don't know what that would allow for...:-\
David wrote, on October 2 at 4:54pm:
Ok, let's see if we can work it out.
;)
Kate wrote, on October 2 at 5:19pm:
Absolutely. It's not a big deal for you to travel there?
David wrote, on October 2 at 5:50pm:
We'll see, I'll try to work it out. I will let you know in the next few days ;)
Will you be staying at some friends place, or in a hotel?
Kate wrote, on October 2 at 6:13pm:
I'm staying at the[Name of Hotel]; it's a business trip so my company is handling my accommodations.
If you can't come, there's always Brussels, though. Maybe I'll even be there before December if you have a couch to surf. :)
David wrote, on October 2 at 6:33pm:
I will always have a couch to surf for you!
I move in my own studio on monday, for 6 weeks, if you want to come soon. Very small studio though..
Do you think it would be weird if i stayed one night with you (or 2) at the [Name of Hotel]? If we hide like proper lovers..
I should have told him no from the outset, shouldn't I? That's what I was getting at with the minute schedule but, on some level, I would like to see him and am flattered by the effort he'll go to to see me. I also have trouble telling him no.
I didn't actually paste the whole exchange because he has since written, offering to come on Sunday and stay until Tuesday or Wednesday, if I can extend my time. I wrote back that I could see about changing my flight back and taking some additional holiday time but I don't think I want to stay at such an expensive hotel then. And, also, I know perfectly well that this is a bad idea, unless I can enjoy his company without getting emotionally involved. (Also, why do this after Zak seemed to go to the effort of telling me that he's, at least, not messing around with his ex? He seemed to be implying something exclusive, which is what I want, but do I want it with Zak, i.e., someone who doesn't seem to have much time for me? Regardless, why am I screwing around with the past?)
Anyway, I don't have time to analyze this at the moment because I should be checking over a PDF for work. And I need to leave for Caroline's birthday party in a couple of hours.
I had my third date with Zak the American last night. We went out to dinner, so that ends my brief suspicion that he is like David and embarrassed to be seen with me. Three dates down and I still really like him, although I'm not used to things moving so slowly. He's too busy to see me more than once a week or once every 10 days (probably won't see him again for two weeks because he'll be in Slovakia this week and then I'm in Denmark), and it occurred to me that my entire relationship with Kosta would fit into the time period that I've known Zak. In that time, I thought I knew Kosta quite well, because we were seeing each other about five times a week.
I admit that's excessive. But it wasn't just one-on-one. He joined me on the hash; he came out with my friends; I met his best friend for drinks. And we'd meet after work for dinner a couple of nights a week. Zak doesn't have that much free time. And, so, while I was able to feel rather close to Kosta (and he fell in love with me) in about a month, I've barely established familiarity and comfort with Zak.
Last night, we didn't end up going for dinner until 9:15. This was perfect for me because I was in the office until 7:30, but that's only because of Copenhagen. I will be less busy soon, but Zak will not. And when I left his apartment this morning (shhh, don't judge me), I asked him if he could ever have a lazy day, i.e., a day of sitting on the sofa cuddling and watching movies. He has to wait until his classes end for the semester, so he could maybe schedule a lazy day in his Blackberry for December. And he still has another year of classes.
I guess that just because he is almost 40 doesn't mean he's at a place in his life where he can have a serious relationship. Age really is just a number.
Anyway, two interesting, relationship things came out in the conversation last night. First, he told me about some Czech woman that he dated back in January and how they're still good friends. He said they traveled to Norway and Sweden together in August. It made me feel a teensy bit jealous but, without prompting, he said, "But we didn't do anything together." And then clarified that there was no sex; they're just friends. He didn't need to tell me this but I am glad that he did. He wants me to know that there's no one else (of course, with his schedule, I'm not too surprised).
The second thing may have concerned this same Czech woman or possibly someone else, but he was talking about how he dated a woman with a five-year-old child but he really wasn't interested because of the kid. Which is when he made it clear to me that my being divorced is not a similar kind of deal breaker. Again, it was something he didn't need to say but I thought he was making his interest known. And I liked it.
As far as I'm concerned, there will be a date #4. I still don't really know where all of this is leading, but I'm on board. Although, let's see what happens in the next two weeks; so much can change...
I have nine days to find a cocktail dress for the upcoming conference. I have a couple of possibly suitable dresses at home but one is scandalously short and the other shows a scandalous amount of cleavage. I will go shopping tonight for the third time and if I don’t find anything I will try to FedEx something from the US or the UK. I really am running out of options here.
I had my second date with the American on Friday. His name is Zak, and I quite like him. He seemed a lot more relaxed and easygoing than on the first date and he’s been a perfect gentleman the whole time. I still haven’t had to pay for anything, and I like the way he wraps his arms around me. He makes me feel warm and secure.
He was very busy the rest of the weekend but texted me Saturday evening to see how I was. I texted him yesterday, and he let me know he’s free this coming weekend, when we plan to have date #3.
I am slightly concerned, though, that he could be a bit like David—well-off, established, educated, extremely busy, and possibly only looking for someone to keep his bed warm. I am basing this last judgment solely on the fact that he changed our second date plans from drinks out to drinks at his place. I hope he is not embarrassed to be seen with me. We’ll see if he takes me out this weekend (I also invited him to come out with my friends, and he said that he plans to get a lot done this week so he has more free time during the weekend, so perhaps I’ll see more of him than a single evening). Whatever. I don’t want to put too much thought into it.
Kev is back in Belgium after 3.5 weeks in the US and thank Christ for that. I missed him. He missed me too. After about two weeks apart, he wrote to me that he missed me a bit and he seemed surprised by it, if you can show surprise in a chat window. By the third week, he missed me a lot. I am definitely looking forward to visit him next month. He and I will get liquored up in London for Halloween, I think. I really enjoy his company.
Anyway, the rest of my weekend. I went to a mojito bar on Saturday and then out clubbing. I was out until about 5.30 in the morning and still up by 8 to take a day trip to Karlstejn for their burcak festival. Photos taken by my friend Petr can be found here.
But these are a couple favorites:
Me with Caroline.
Caroline, me, Petra.
Me, Caroline, Petra, and Jirka.
And again.
Also, I have twice hung out with this guy named Aaron who is from Washington DC and has a girlfriend in Slovakia. Purely as friends (he contacted me on Facebook well over a year ago when he was first in Prague but we never met up before). So he’s back in Prague and has been here since Wednesday. He’s contacted me every day to hang out. He only has one other friend, no job, and no place to live. His passport was stolen. I went with him to a concert on Wednesday and then invited him out to the mojito bar on Saturday. He annoyed the shit out of one of the other people there and she called him an imbecile after he left. He’s just so socially awkward. I have a soft spot for that but I also can’t quite stand him and want to shake him. It’s weird, though, to think that I’d give up a friend that seems always available but, right now, I feel more like his mother. Anyway, that’s enough of an update for now. Back to work.
So Chris’ ultimatum: Either he comes here this weekend or we never speak again. But the American guy I had a date with last week offered up this coming Friday or Saturday for our second date. Sophia is having a party on Saturday, so I agreed to a date on Friday. Weekend full now, so no room for Chris. It’s over. I persevered. Or something.
Actually I tried to talk to Chris a bit on Sunday. I was hungover and about to head out to the store, but I asked him for five minutes. He said, “NO,” and that he didn’t want to talk to me because he was busy, and I couldn’t believe he wouldn’t give me five minutes. He said we could talk in a few days. I said that if he couldn’t give me five minutes, there was no sense in his coming for the weekend. Bitchy? Yes, especially because I knew at that point that I didn’t want him to come anyway. But he certainly got me back for it with the end of our conversation:
[16:29:20] Chris: why can't you accept that i simply don't want to talk NOW???
[16:32:17] Kate: i have
[16:32:25] Kate: it's ok
[16:32:26] Chris: i said NOW
[16:32:32] Chris: i just don't want to talk NOW
[16:32:38] Kate: it's ok
[16:32:40] Chris: why is that so hard to understand?
[16:32:43] Kate: i understand
[16:32:52] Chris: and why do you always have to escalate?
[16:33:15] Chris: can't you simply shut the fuck up and keep your drama to yourself?
I said nothing after that. He sent me two apologetic text messages later but I didn’t answer either. He’s blocked on Skype again, and it’s only a few days until the weekend and then, if he sticks to his ultimatum, he won’t talk to me again.
That Czech guy that I had the unimpressive date with a while back texted me, in Czech: “You are a pretty girl, I want you.” Today, he sent me a long message on Facebook, in Czech, about how he will only communicate with me in Czech from now on because, isn’t it sad that I’ve been here so long and I don’t speak Czech? He’s offended by it.
It seems to me like he’s just trying to make up for the fact that his English is horrible, and there’s nothing wrong with that but I’m not going to date him. I took him off my friends list. I don’t have time for that shit.
Other things: I spent most of the weekend with friends—out to dinner with Sophia, Lindsey, Jan and a few new folks on Friday, and I met Caroline and Pavlina before and after that at the unfermented wine festival. I was again at the unfermented wine festival on Saturday. One of my friends wouldn’t let me put up photos of her on Facebook because she was so embarrassingly drunk, but so was everyone (except me). Seriously, at least three of them fell over drunk. Another wandered off and couldn’t be contacted or found. One left in tears after a big fight with her boyfriend.
…Basically, a great night!
Photos from before things turned sour are here.
When I got home around midnight Friday, I was surprised that Chris was online and not out doing pickup. We chatted until 4 am. Pleasant.
Saturday, I got my hair cut, met the girls for the English breakfast, which was actually at 2 pm so we decided to stick around until 4:30 for happy hour. After that, we walked around, bought tickets for Bruno, bought a couple bottles of wine to sneak into Bruno, and then went to the movie.
I got home around midnight, and I was again surprised that Chris was online. We chatted until 5 am. Mostly pleasant until the very end when he said something that prompted me to ask him if he loved me. That turned him into his old self, saying that he wouldn’t go there, that I want everything at once, and why can’t I just enjoy what we have? His wooing went down the drain, I’d say.
On Sunday, I spent 8 hours at a hash. I don’t even feel like I got that much exercise as it was mostly a flat trail. It was 11 kilometers, but I think we cut it down considerably by taking a bus for the last leg of it. Caroline, who set the trail, determined that it was too dangerous to do again—a windy, country road with no sidewalk. Good call.
I talked to Chris again on Monday and he issued an ultimatum that either I see him in the next two weeks or he will never speak to me again. I don’t want that to actually work, and I doubt he’d go through with it. But I’m considering letting him come to Prague next weekend when Sophia is throwing a party. At least then it’s his time on the train, his money for a ticket. But I’m enjoying just talking to him. His pickup tells him that he can’t wait any longer or else he’s lost his chance with me so he has to pressure me. And he has been.
Kev emailed me on Monday to ask that I not date anyone for a while. I’m going to take his challenge, except…
I had already scheduled a date. But that is it. That’s the last guy to get a chance for a while, because I really didn’t feel like going and had already sort of moved and rescheduled it. I don’t know what it is but I can’t get excited about dating. It feels a bit like a chore—like a job interview. Selling yourself and building a rapport with someone. It’s not fun.
But I had the date last night with an American guy. It’s the first American I’ve been on a date with since Leon. He’s turning 40 in December, has two MBAs and is getting a third. He’s from Indiana. His background is in finance. He’s very into fitness and described going to gym as his kind of religion. He was raised Jewish and went to Hebrew school until the 5th grade. He’s been in Prague for two years and speaks pretty good Czech. He wants to buy a flat here and settle down. He must make very good money because his monthly rent for a two bedroom penthouse in a nice part of Prague is almost as much as my salary. And he paid for everything, including my cab ride home.
I thought he was very nice. I think he was trying to get me drunk, although it was sweet that he ordered drinks that he already knew I liked—burcak (unfermented wine that’s in season now) and then we did a few shots of tequila. We didn’t laugh, though. He used the word “marketization.” And we probably talked way too much about said marketization, fitness, and Czech people.
When he put me in the cab, he suggested meeting on Saturday. And he texted me this morning.
I went home and talked to Kev for a bit and told him that I didn’t feel the “wowie zowie.” The spark. The chemistry. I never really put much thought into it before, although I did have it with David (he made me float on a cloud) and with Chris. But I’ve also had a couple of relationships that lacked that initial attraction and I thought that was ok, because it always grew. But I”ve been talking to online dater extraordinaire Dan about this lately, and he won’t even bother returning messages from women he doesn’t find attractive.
I mean, that makes sense. But I thought you should give everyone a chance. You might find a treasure that way.
If anything, I decided that this American guy, spark or not, gets the second date because he seems like a nice guy. I may not spark with a nice guy. Or rarely. But I’d like to be finished playing with fire.
Thankfully, it was well past the end of the work day and I could go home. Immediately. I drew myself a bath when I got home and cried. I still love him, and I felt rejected all over again. I just don’t know what to do with him. I know how bad he is for me, but I still want him so much. He has the potential to make me so happy and to make me feel so warm and loved. To make me feel so valued.
I texted him to apologize for being snippy and to tell him that I would be on Skype if he wanted to talk (actually, that was pre-cry). I called him, and he sent the call to voicemail after two rings.
And so I got home, cried, and turned on my Skype, knowing he wouldn’t show up. Which is why I decided to keep the date I would’ve otherwise cancelled to have an evening in by myself. My very first date after our breakup was a big Fuck You to Chris. (Gee, I'm not really ready for a relationship yet, am I?)
As expected, Chris didn’t show up on Skype, but he texted an apology just as I was heading out. I told him I waited for him for an hour on Skype, he didn’t show, and so I was going out. I think he thought I was bluffing, but I told him that we could talk later (he wanted to know when) and out I went.
I met this Czech guy named Ales. (Everyone reading this just mentally pronounced that like the drink; it’s the Czech form of Alex.) Two years in the Czech Republic and that was my first date with a Czech. And the first time I’ve ever had a date with someone younger than me. He’s 26 but he definitely seemed young to me.
Anyway, he was sweet, but I wasn’t attracted to him in the slightest and his English was pretty bad (words I had to translate for him include “East,” at least four weekdays, and “church”). (Also, I’m living in the Czech Republic so I don’t expect Czech people to speak English but it’s sort of a requirement for a boyfriend.)
We met in Nove Mesto and walked a route somewhat similar to two other dates I’ve been on—across the Charles Bridge, up towards the Castle, through it, around the Cathedral (or “church”), and then back down into Male Strana. He was prepared for this and brought a bottle of water. I dressed for sitting in a pub and have new blisters on my feet.
At one point on our way towards the Castle, we stopped to admire the city and he rolled himself a cigarette, offering me one. I declined and stared directly down at one of the restaurants where David used to be the sommelier. Diners were seated in a dimly-lit garden and being served by suited waiters. I wanted to be there, in that world, and not at a distance, as I was at that moment. As I always was.
When we got into Mala Strana, I wanted a drink, and so I decided that we would go to a pub with a beer garden that I’ve been to a handful of times. Ales told me that he couldn’t drink because he’s on antibiotics for a week, and somehow I knew he wasn’t going to order a drink, but I was thirsty and wanted a beer.
Czech service is generally pretty bad, but never have I been treated as poorly as I was last night. I ordered my beer from a waiter who sneered at us when Ales didn’t order and then told him to put away his water bottle, which he had casually placed on the table, because “this is a restaurant.” Another waiter came and conversed with Ales in Czech. I don’t know what was said, but I wonder if they didn’t want to serve us because only I was drinking. I wished that I had ordered two beers and drunk both of them myself—they’d never have known.
When my beer came, the waiter made a big presentation of setting it down in front of me and turning it around so that the handle was on the right-hand side, making flourishes and bowing as though he had just handed me something of great value. This was not good service; it was rude.
I considered that our patronage was a hassle to them and not worth their money, but Czechs barely tip for service, so it shouldn’t matter to them, really, how much I’m spending. This is, I think, why I was actually forced out a clothing store once when there were 5 minutes left before closing and I had items I wanted to purchase IN MY HANDS. The woman who took them couldn’t have cared less if I bought them; no commission for her and what did she care about the company? “We open at 9 tomorrow morning,” she told me and refused to let me purchase them.
When my beer was half empty, that second waiter came back to make rude comments to Ales, and so I said I would pay. I took out 100 crowns (roughly $5) and he reached for his money bag. I waved my hand. “No, no, it’s ok; it's for you.” He couldn’t believe it. “You want something else?” “No, it’s ok.”
The beer was 31 crowns. A 300% tip. But only $5, mind you. He left us alone after that.
I don’t normally do things like that, but I was hoping to teach him a lesson. That $3.50 tip was probably more than he got from the next two tables full of beer-guzzling men to pay. I wanted him to consider that, just because we didn’t look like valuable customers didn't mean we were worthless. Or perhaps he’d simply feel bad for being rude. I really don’t know, but it has to be a better strategy than glaring while paying exactly 31 crowns.
I’ve only done this once before and made sure to tell Ales that this is not something I do. I was just so angry at the service. The time before was years ago, in St. Louis. I went to a Korean nail salon for a manicure, and the woman pushed me into getting a pedicure too. I wanted a pedicure, but my feet were calloused and I was embarrassed. And understandably so. When she pulled my feet out of the bath to go to work, she started chitchatting and giggling with the other women. I don’t know for certain that they were talking about me, and it’s possible I was just being paranoid, but I felt like they were.
And so, after she finished my pedicure, it was time to pay so that when my manicure was finished, I could leave even if my nails weren’t dry. I gave her a $10 tip. Again, not a ton of money but much more than is recommended for such services. And for my manicure, she didn’t say a word to the other women. No giggling or chitchatting. I was suddenly a valued customer and human being.
I don’t like dangling money in front of people as an incentive to treat others nicely, but, for some, it seems to be the only motivator.
Anyway, we left the beer garden after that and Ales and I parted near a metro/tram station. As we were saying goodbye, I could see the wheels in his head turning as he was figuring out what kind of goodbye he was entitled to. He told me I had a nice smile and leaned in for a kiss, which fell sort of halfway on my lips and halfway on my cheek. Just a peck. That was plenty, and I was home a little before midnight.
He emailed me when he got home that it was a “sweet evening” and requested to see me on Saturday.
I got on Skype and talked to Chris. Until 4 am. Lots of flirting. He wants me to visit him in Vienna this weekend. It will not happen, and I am being very clear about it. Well, I didn’t tell him that I’m not coming because I made a hair appointment and Caroline is setting the hash trail on Sunday so I intend to be here, but I was clear that we need more time apart and I don’t want to meet him unless we are both clear on what we want and what we can provide for each other. Which may never happen.
Basically, I’m not an idiot but I am still in love with him and want him so badly. He will not be what I need, though. As he tried to woo me last night, I quoted his breakup email to him and how he needs another 5, 10, 15 years of “adventure.” He said that we could meet each other halfway, but he wants to be a pickup artist with a girlfriend. That is certainly not halfway. No, halfway is what? Living together with an open relationship? Living apart with a closed relationship? He hangs out with his pickup artist friends and flirts but doesn’t sleep with other women? I don’t like halfway.
It’s troublesome. We’re both so in love and so drawn to each other, but we’re incompatible.
And I can already predict the comments I will get on this entry but please know that I am sorting this out. I obviously have a strong attraction to assholes with a soft side. Is there a 12-step program for that?
Chris is doing a pickup maneuver on me called push-pull. He texted me just now after a couple days of silence (I reblocked him on Skype) with, “How about impressionism, btw? :-)” Or maybe it’s not even push-pull but I know what he’s doing to try to illicit conversation from me and I’m more annoyed than anything.
I talked to both Dan and Kev about possibly going to Dubai and both were pissed at me. I really don’t think they understand it from my point of view. I either seem incredibly opportunistic and like I’m using David for lodging or stupid to walk back into that trap. Potentially both.
Whatever, though. I don’t have to make any decisions about it for a while. Maybe I’ll just let the invitation remain open well into 2010 and go to Dubai before I move back to the US. When else would I ever be able to go there and have a free place to stay with someone I know and trust and enjoy? Never.
Today marks four weeks since Chris dumped me. I am a fish without a bicycle.
That’s 32.5 pounds lost since restarting my diet this year and a total of 66.5 pounds since my highest weight.
So, David wrote to me last Monday and I responded but he never answered my #1 question, which was: what happened with Dubai? So I wrote to him again yesterday, and he responded this time. Turns out he’s in Dubai right now, interviewing and finding out if he wants to move there. I invited myself to visit him if he does move there. His initial response was flirtatious; I flirted back; he wrote back today that it sounded good and we’d work out dates.
I know at least two men who will be very mad at me if I go visit David in Dubai. The first is Kev. Since I first talked to Kev about David, he has maintained that he’s bad news. Kev doesn’t even use his name when we talk about him—he’s FW for French Wanker.
The other is Dan. (Ok, the Scotsman might also be upset about it but he’s a harder read.) But Dan has a similar hatred for David. After being friends for well over a year, Dan also wants to date me, and we are planning to meet if/when I’m home for Christmas this year. I’m a little worried that Dan’s becoming too interested in me, given the distance between us. Plus, he hasn’t dated anyone since becoming single in February, when his wife of 16 years ended their marriage. He’s talked to a couple of women online, but both of his main interests turned psycho before they ever met face to face. He recently signed up for the big online matchmaking services—OK Cupid, Match.com, and eHarmony—but it’s too early to tell how those will work out for him.
I’m just worried for him that he’s going to fall in love with me and I don’t really have a Prague exit strategy. That’ll end badly for him. I want him to date and possibly find someone local, and if he happens to be single in December, we’ll meet (not that the December meeting is even a date but it won’t happen if he’s seeing someone because the time I’m allotting him is New Year’s Eve). Dan is probably the kind of man I should date—sweet, honest, loyal, and traditional. I’m certainly not opposed to it. But I’m not going to start dating someone now and certainly not someone I’m separated from by an ocean.
It’s possible that he likes me so much because I’m convenient—I know that sounds funny considering that he’s in the US and I’m in Europe, but I mean I’m easy to talk to and access in some capacity. He shouldn’t settle on me until he goes on some dates with other women.
Anyway, last night, he wrote me a really long email that basically amounts to a love letter, and it’s flattering and sweet, but I worry for him. And I won’t commit myself to him until we’ve met in person and I have some plan for moving back to the US. Otherwise, it’s silly. So he’s going to have to go with the flow, and I don’t know if he can.
I’ve told him that Kev invited me back to London in late October/early December and that the Scotsman will have me at any time after this coming weekend, when one of his friends is getting married. Both of these trips, I think, he can handle—Kev is a friend and the Scotsman honorable. But if I go to Dubai, he’ll be crushed. I wonder if I can avoid his feeling like that. It may not even be an issue.
In other news, I’m trying to sort out some documents I’ll need to take care of when I’m back in Illinois for Christmas. And I want to get my ticket booked before the price goes up any more. Which means I need to sort out all the travel I want to do before the end of the year so that I can figure out how many holidays I’ll have.
Potential trips: Switzerland with Caroline (and possibly others) at Halloween for a hash weekend; Brussels for their Christmas hash weekend in mid-December; Scotland to see the Scotsman (any time); London to hang out with Kev in late October or early November; Dubai to see the city and David (any time). I need to pick and choose.
I have a crush on Kev. He’s married, though, so it will never amount to anything. This is both good and bad, actually, because it will never amount to anything. On the one hand, having feelings for someone who doesn’t return them sucks. On the other, I don’t need a relationship right now, so this is better than pursuing an easy target.
I talked to him again last night for what will be the last time until he returns from a 3.5 week trip in the US. Again, good and bad. He cheers me up so I will miss him, but maybe his absence will help me to get rid of the crush.
Anyway, I was up until nearly 3 am last night and I woke up again around 6 with abdominal pain similar to taking a bullet. I assume, anyway. I knew that it would eventually go away so I just rolled myself into the most comfortable position and waited it out, but it did make me wonder what I would do if I were ever really sick and how would I know?
That’s a scary thing about living alone. When I was 11, I had to write my own obituary for class. Most everyone wrote about having grandchildren and dying of old age. In mine, I was an unmarried, childless spinster who died alone at home when she choked on a piece of food. Age 35.
My teacher thought it was sad; I thought it reflected my desire to never get old and never turn into my parents. I no longer think that turning into my parents is such a ghastly fate. Dying because I am alone and can’t fend for myself in even the most minor medical emergency sounds just a bit more tragic.
I’ve been talking quite a bit lately with the Scotsman, who may soon get to reclaim his name here, because Austrian Chris is a twat. The Scotsman wants us to get back together and has made this very clear. I am, however, not ready to date. Last night, I was thinking about this and how I’ve been approached by a few men and I keep brushing off their advances because the thought of building a new relationship (only to have it crumble the way that mine and Austrian Chris Twat’s or ACT’s did) exhausts me. With the exception of Kev, with whom a friendship already existed and only a friendship is a possibility, the only men with whom I have any interest in communicating are those who I only see (want?) as friends.
This is a problem, though, because the Scotsman is extremely interested in me, and it sort of made me aware of the kind of dumbfuckery that Chris promoted and that many men believe, which is that you can never be friends with a woman you’re interested in. There is, possibly, a certain amount of truth in it. While I’m talking to the Scotsman because he is safe and warm and someone I really like, he sees all the time he’s putting in with me as a sort of insurance: he talks me through my breakup and then, when I’m read to date again, he’s obviously the first choice. Dumbfuck misogynists say that I’ll pick another jerk, though, and that the Scotsman is wasting his time (actually, a reversal of this could be seen in my relationship with David—I invested time and feelings and gave him what, I thought, he was looking for, but I was not a proper choice for a girlfriend).
I refuse to prove this theory true, though. Thus, I told the Scotsman last night that I am not ready for a relationship because I feel damaged by the last one, and I told him that it isn’t fair of me to ask him for anything because I know what he hopes to gain from it. He told me that he can’t help how much he wants me and how he loves the way I make him feel. Basically, he got out of it what he wanted to hear.
Moving on...
I’ve been able to take some time for myself and am working on reading Henry Miller's Tropic of Capricorn. I can’t decide yet if I like it or not but Miller's style and language are like nothing I’ve read in a very long time, so it’s wonderful and inspiring and definitely needed.
I saw a musical in the West End, which is something I have dreamed of doing for at least 15 years. It was a rather shitty show, but I still loved it and bought the CD. That, along with being in an English-speaking country for the first time in two years where people were so exquisitely friendly, along with the absolute beauty and energy of that place I have wanted to go for so long, helped me to refocus.
I thought about how I’ve lost my way and spent too much time trying to find a man to satisfy me. I thought about what I want out of life on my own and who I want to be. I thought about what makes me happy, independent of others. I thought about killing myself, about my family, my job, my life in Prague, David, and Chris. I thought about where I want to be. I felt empty most of the time but also like I had a lot of work ahead of me—an overwhelming feeling, but not a bad one.
I returned to Prague and was back at work on Friday, where I used my lunch hour to read a new book I picked up in London.
That evening, after eight silent days, Chris contacted me on Skype. I begrudgingly answered. He opened up and told me that he missed me and that I was an amazing girlfriend. He admitted that he thought I had made him unhappy but he realizes now that wasn’t true. He portrayed himself as someone who hates himself, as someone who will spend the rest of his life molding himself into someone else. It made me feel good about myself and sorry for him.
In the morning, though, I wished we hadn’t spoken and got on Skype to say that it still wasn’t a good idea to try to be friends. Either because of my change in mood or because he was puffed up from being out all night doing his pickup artist thing, he slammed me, running through the list of things he hates about me, saying that he remembered why he dumped me, and how I’d have to work harder if I wanted him back (huh?), because I was competing with his new lifestyle. He mentioned something about two girls fighting over him the night before.
All the healing from the eight days of silence was gone, and I hated him as though he had just broken my heart all over again.
Also, at some point (one of the friendlier portions of the conversation, obviously), he said that I could come down to Vienna and sleep with him, but there’d be no promise of a relationship. Purely for sex. But then he thought better of it and said that wasn’t a good idea.
Against my better judgment, I ended the conversation by offering him a fresh start and a new chance at friendship when we next spoke. I then went and met four other girls (including Sophia and Caroline) to go paddleboating on the river. We went from there to a festival where we had dinner, drank beer, and shared two bottles of wine. From there, it was off to a club for more cocktails with a couple of guys who tried to pick up one of the other girls, but we split around midnight because only one of us was dressed for clubbing.
Sunday morning, I was online on Skype and Chris contacted me again to say hello. I literally said only a couple of things before he responded that he was busy doing something and implied that I was annoying for trying to talk to him. Again, he contacted ME. Turns out he was trying to download Inglourious Basterds so we could watch it together and, when he managed to find what he was looking for, he triumphantly proclaimed, “See what I can get done when you aren’t pestering me?” Or something like that.
So that kicked off another brutal conversation but he did make occasional kind comments. Like he said that it was especially nice to be loved by me because my love is true and pure from a warm heart. And we ended the conversation pleasantly when I left to go see a movie with my friends. And I thought about him a lot through the movie.
I know that I am still in love with him and what I want is for him to take me back. But I want the kind of relationship we were never capable of having, and I don’t want to question whether I am enough for him.
Also, he left me. He could not have had his choices better outlined: stay with me and have a life much like he was experiencing or return to the life he had before he ever knew me. He chose to go back to what he had before. It wasn’t a choice of an unknown opportunity. It was a choice to erase me. And even if he tells me that he misses me and asks for me back, it will not undo this. As he said, I am competing with his pickup lifestyle. I was always competing. I lost.
When I got home later, I blocked him on Skype. He’s off of Facebook and now he can’t contact me on Skype. If he wants to contact me, he’ll have to call, text, or email. He almost certainly won’t call and texts and emails are easy to deflect.
As of now, I’ve avoided advances by three men who have tried to date me in the past couple of weeks. This includes the Czech guy I nearly had a date with, that ever-present other French guy, and some other guy who is remarkably persistent. I’m not interested. In anyone.
This morning, I received a Facebook message from David. As I wrote to Dan, he wrote to say that “he's settling into Brussels and to see how I'm doing. I'm very surprised because, even though he wrote that he was ‘sure our paths will cross again,’ I thought it was mere politeness.
I'm guessing he's going to ask me to visit and sleep with him. (I know him well enough by now to know that he always sends an introductory ‘how are you’ kind of thing before coming out with what he wants.)”
I got a definite high from hearing from him, but not having to encounter him and ignoring his activities on Facebook has made it easy for me to get over him. Still, if he ends up moving to Dubai in October/November, I may visit him because it’s fucking Dubai.
But I’ll try not to think about it too much. For now, I’m trying to focus on those glorious visions I had in London—visions of a happy, self-sufficient Kate. Getting out of this rut and making something of myself will probably be the hardest thing I’ve ever done. But I am ready for this.
Hello Kate,
Thank you for your kind email. I leave on wednesday afternoon indeed.
We haven't really talked a lot ever in Prague, but I wanted you to know that you are a wonderful person.
I am sure our paths will cross again.
Take care.
David.
In case it needed any more confirmation, it is really and truly over with both David and Chris (although both think I'm "wonderful"--sure). It makes no sense for me to try to see either of them again. I may send David a nice email or comment on his Facebook after a couple of months or even for his birthday (April), but that's it. And Chris may graduate to that sort of detached, kind treatment at some point but not yet.
Anyway, I forgot to mention that I lost a pound. Ok, it's that same pound that I posted about on Friday but it's still off and so it goes on the chart.
That's 32 pounds since restarting my diet this year and 66 pounds since my highest weight. Only 8 pounds until I change my goal from the arbitrary 74 pounds to...an arbitrary 85 pounds? 93 pounds? I don't think I'm ballsy enough to make it 100 pounds, but maybe!
I had crepes with Jan and Sophia yesterday evening after spending most of the day shopping. When I got home, I listened to music and did some ironing and started bawling when Amy Winehouse’s version of “Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow?” came on. The part of me that thought that David was serious when he said we could meet again before he left expected him to want to see me last night.
My Facebook newsfeed shows me that he chose to attend a pickled cheese competition instead.
He should be flying to Brussels today or tomorrow, and I wrote him this:
Hey, David.
You're probably jetting off today or tomorrow, so good luck in Belgium. I hope that everything works out there and with Dubai. I hope our paths cross again before too long. :)
All the best,
Kate
xoxo
He’ll respond with something polite, like, “Yes, I am leaving tomorrow. Sorry it didn’t work out for us to see each other again before I left, but I had so much to do in a short time. Keep in touch! D.” And that’ll be it.
I have not contacted Chris in any way since that chat (posted a couple of entries back) from Thursday. He has not contacted me. One of his friends posted on my Facebook that he was sorry that Chris decided to return to being a “noob” and that we should hang out again when I’m next in Vienna. I’m not sure that I’ll ever return to Vienna, though.
I am filled with so much anger for allowing myself to be treated so poorly by both of them. It occurred to me that I’ve never really dumped someone before, no matter how bad things got. With two exceptions—one being Leon, but that was more mutual and worked out over a long period of time. The other one was Fouad. He cheated and used me financially and even that took me months to pull the plug on.
I need to raise the bar. You don’t want a monogamous relationship? You make incredibly racist remarks? You think women are beneath men and aren’t as intelligent or creative? You’re not looking for something long term? You tell me to turn off my music but I’m not allowed to say anything when you play your screaming death metal? You tell me that I need to lose weight in order to date you? You tell me to behave or to just be happy but you won’t even listen to me when I try to talk through my problems because you’re “not [my] therapist?” You don’t want to introduce me to your friends or invite me to your parties? Then you aren’t good enough for me.
Hard to implement, of course, but at least I’ll try it.
Anyway, I slept for about 13 hours last night with the aid of a Klonopin. Thank God I’ve got my trip to London to look forward to. I’ll be gone for a few days, starting tomorrow. When I return, I’ll go back to taking things one day at a time until I don’t want to off myself. Don’t worry; I’ll get there.
I cried this morning and actually entertained thoughts that I should apologize to Chris for taking him off my Facebook. I refer you again to our conversation from last night. That is the entire conversation, except for a few lines I snipped out at the beginning where I told him I couldn’t talk now because I was on the phone with my bank. But I didn’t even take out my “hahahaha,” which is something I do when I am really pissed and makes me look childish.
But even me at my worst--saying “fuck you” and “go to hell"--doesn't make me come off as the bigger jerk in that conversation.
The problem, I guess, is that I always have to accept what is given to me. And this guy, asshole that he is, wants to be my friend. Who am I to be picky about friends?
Plus I invested 11 months of my life spending time with him, getting to know him, and loving him. How can I cut that person out of my life completely?
I guess I can tell myself that maybe one day, I won’t have to. That one day, we could be friends. But for now, it is not a good idea. I don’t want to see him post status updates about “getting it on” (he had something like that yesterday) or the horrible catchphrase that he used to high five one of his wingmen with before they went out to find women: “time to fuck.” I don’t want to see him post about going to “Inglorious Basterds,” which we planned for months to see together. I don’t want to see him post about anything that we were going to do together.
And you know what? I don’t have to.
Nearly a year ago, Caroline had a falling out with her former roommates when she moved out and they disagreed about some of the terms of the contract. She wanted to take them off of her Facebook, because seeing them on there enraged her, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. It would have been mean. And, seriously, who doesn’t think that unfriending someone is just a bit childish? But why do we do things that are hurtful to ourselves just to seem nice to others?
There were many times that I wanted David off of my list but just avoided looking at my newsfeed instead. He should’ve gone. And I will do everything in my power to avoid his profile in the coming days because there will surely be photos from his farewell party that I wasn’t invited to, and I don’t want to see them.
In a way, it’s good that I am losing both David and Chris at the same time. The pain is immeasurable but at least it’ll be over, for both of them, in a few weeks or so. And I can get on with my life.
Speaking of getting on with my life, I have booked flights to London for next week. I’m going to spend a couple of days getting rip roaring drunk with Kev and seeing a city that I’ve always wanted to see. There will still be a million things in London that I’ll want to see and will need to return to see, but I can’t turn down the invitation. I need a friend, and he’s offered his friendship to me for three glorious days. That’ll take my mind off of things for a while.
Maybe I’ll even bump into David at the airport as he’s heading to Brussels. Or maybe I won’t hear from him again until I post photos to Facebook in a few months and I look thin. Seriously, I have not weighed what I weighed since I was 16. I’m still fat, and there’s nothing wrong with being fat, of course, but I feel like I’m conquering something that I have struggled with for my whole life. It makes me feel good about something, at least.
I’ve dropped 2.5 pounds in the last two days. I know that’s not healthy, but I’m not starving myself. I even had a chocolate donut with lunch yesterday because I thought a sugar rush would make me feel better. But 3 of the last 4 evenings, I’ve been too depressed, busy, hot, and forgetful to have dinner. Thus, I have now lost 65 pounds since my highest weight and 31 pounds since I started dieting this year.
I wish I had more recent photos than the ones from the pool last weekend. You can’t see my body in them, but don’t I look happy?
I’m trying to come up with things to distract me while I get back to normal. I contacted two guys on an Expats website to see about getting together. Yes, they were male but one has a girlfriend and specified he’s not looking for “friends” but just people to hang out with. This is how I met Jan, and he’s a friend, not a “friend.” It’s possible. The other guy wanted to go swimming but he doesn’t work during the week and would prefer swimming then, so I don’t think that’s going to happen.
I’m also looking into going to London to visit Kev for a few days next week, if I can get the time off from work. He wants to take me out drinking. Remember that he’s married, so don’t get the wrong idea here, either.
But my other actions are less honorable. I may meet a Czech guy for a drink this weekend, which sounds an awful lot like a date, and we all know I’m not ready for that. But, then again, he’s leaving Prague so not much potential there and maybe a good distraction while I’m getting my head together. And nothing is confirmed; I can always cancel. The far worse action is that I contacted a former fling (the one who got mad and took me off his Facebook friends list about a year ago when I was looking for a relationship) to see if we could get together. He didn’t even question it; he was just like, “Sure thing; I’m free any time in the next two weeks.”
I don’t have to go through with any of these things. Maybe they’re just distractions for a slow, hot day.
Mostly, I feel like I should go out and meet people. Groups of people, that is, not men. But new people make me feel boring. Being alone makes me feel sad. Ideally, I could get a group of girls together to drink wine and watch shit movies, but I don’t know enough girls here. I thought of inviting that new Sophia girl (from my pool pictures) swimming over the weekend along with Jan and even bringing that guy who wanted to go swimming along to take the pressure off of me to be interesting. The more people, the less I have to talk. We’ll see if that pans out.
And, yes, if I end up alone, going for a nice walk through beautiful Prague will alleviate some of that. And I wouldn’t mind going shopping either. Or cleaning my apartment. There’s plenty to do as long as I’m not just lying in bed. 13 hours of sleep last night; this is what I fear.
David’s goodbye party is tonight. I know this from Facebook. I was not invited. To be fair, he’s getting his group of friends together, so why would he invite me? He commented on my Facebook status yesterday, but otherwise I haven’t heard from him since we met Tuesday night. I thought about writing him an email about what a wonderful man he is and how much I will miss him. You know, just in case it still isn’t clear that I adore him and want to stay in touch and see him after he moves. But deep down, I know that he knows how I feel and it doesn’t really matter to him. Maybe to his ego, but that’s all.
I’ve just got a few days or weeks to suffer through, and hopefully I won’t do anything too stupid. This is fucking rough.
So I just want to prove that I am not completely delusional. It would simply seem that he gave up on the fantasy before I did.
This coming weekend is going to be difficult on me. Caroline leaves tomorrow for a canoe trip and there's no hash on Sunday, so I will have to go to a bit more effort to ensure that I don't end up staying in all weekend, feeling sorry for myself.
I feel really emotionally delicate right now--like every little thing is having a huge effect on me and I'm up then down then up then down again. If this isn't an endorsement for staying single, I don't know what is.
And yet he said what I expected. He said that I don’t want a man like him and that I should be with someone who wants to get married and have children. But he made it sound as though he were acting nobly and giving me my freedom, implying (if not stating outright) that he had to dump me because I wouldn’t leave him on my own. He said that he wanted us to be friends, and I asked what that would entail. He said we could chat on Skype sometimes.
Actually, perhaps it wasn’t even that he was condescending but that he sounded so casual about it. Like he was okay with it, and it hurt me to think that he wasn’t hurting. I told him that I wasn’t sure we could be friends and called him a bunch of names, which I hadn’t been counting on at all, and he laughed. And chomped his gum.
He also got preachy towards the end, telling me that I’ll always have a place in his heart and asking if I’d be ok. And then he said that no matter how bad it got, I should always remember that there’s a tomorrow. Never mind those testicles. I could’ve kicked him in the face.
Writing this now and trying to put myself back in that situation feels too much like reliving it and I can feel my pulse beating faster, so that’s about all I can say about it right now.
I ended the conversation abruptly because I had plans to meet David (more on that in a minute). Some time between ending that conversation at about 8:45 PM and this morning at 9:30, I decided that he reminded me of Kosta: some idiot who thinks he’s smart and talks down to me. I wanted to tell him that he can’t portray our breakup as some selfless act on his part—his initial email revealed that it isn’t. And I wanted to tell him that if he wants to be my friend, he’ll have to forgo the attitude. While I occasionally enjoyed his cocky sense of humor, what I loved about him was when he was genuine and sensitive. When he showed me his soft side. And if we’re going to be friends, he is going to have to show me some of that, because I don’t need another cocky male friend. He can’t talk down to me. Something like that, anyway.
So I did one of those stupid things that I knew I shouldn’t do and I texted him this morning, saying that I wanted to tell him something before we could be friends. He wrote back to ask when we could talk. I said we could talk whenever he’s online and not busy playing World of Warcraft and then I also added that it was nothing bad like I was pregnant or had an STD, that I didn’t want to manipulate him into talking to me.
His response was, “If you would have acted like this when we were together we would still be.”
And that was enough to give me a high feeling. Weird, I realize, because it was basically an exchange of his saying we broke up because I’m a wonderful woman who deserves more for his saying that I’m a crabby, manipulative bitch. But it showed me that his actions weren’t selfless. That he’s still a dick who thinks I need to learn to behave.
Also, to go back to that horrible conversation from last night, he tried to get me to share with him first but I wouldn’t, saying that we had waited days for his enlightenment. I think he expected me to beg him to take me back. I think he thought I’d offer up everything to stay together. It doesn’t mean that he would’ve accepted, but when I agreed that the breakup was right, he said something like, “So even if I would’ve said we should be together, you’d want to break up?” And he said something about miscalculating.
Oh, who knows? The point is that I felt better, and I don’t even feel the need to talk to him now. I will at some point, of course, but that text message showed me what I really wanted to know.
And now David. I saw him last night and had a really nice time. He was very talkative, and I soaked up that feeling of being around him for what is possibly the last time. He said that we can meet again before he leaves, but I don’t know if that’s true or if he was just avoiding an awkward goodbye. I wouldn’t even blame him for the latter. I hate goodbyes.
His situation is that he has a guaranteed job in Brussels and will leave on Monday or Tuesday to go there and start working. However, he also asked them for holiday time in September and he’s thinking of giving up the holiday and delaying his start in Brussels so that he can stay here a bit longer. One advantage of that is because he still doesn’t know what will happen with the job in Dubai. He got a call from a friend yesterday while we were together, telling him that the restaurant/hotel/resort in Dubai was checking his references, so that’s good. If he gets the offer in Dubai, he’ll go there. If he starts in Brussels and gets the offer in Dubai, he’ll still go to Dubai. Dubai is number one.
So he’s planning to leave most of his stuff here if he does head to Brussels because there’s still the chance he won’t move there. He should know in a couple of weeks.
But he didn’t ask me to go with him. He just said that he’s sad to leave Prague but that he’ll try to make it back every six months or so to touch base. And I’ve made it clear that I would visit him wherever he goes. We talked a while about my relationship with Chris, but that may have been out of politeness.
Who knows?
What is pretty clear at this point, though, is that I am single. For many months, I have received advice from everyone about how I should get rid of Chris and David and have some alone time. Well, I am certainly alone.
That was a long time coming, but it makes me hopeful that I am back on track. It's 28.5 pounds this year and a total of 62.5 since my all-time high.
Even though I still have a long way to go before I'm "thin," I am still in awe of how much weight I've lost. I am curious to go back to the US and try on clothes to see what size I am. I think I will try to make it back home for Christmas this year.
Yesterday, David emailed me to say that he liked my pool pictures and to ask how I am and how things are with Chris. I wrote him a fairly long response to tell him that Chris and I are supposed to have a relationship talk today, but that I don't really know why because he and I are finished. I wrote that it's time for me to be with a man who is more similar to me and who wants roughly the same things that I want out of life.
He responded three minutes later to ask me what I want out of life. Smiley face.
It made me feel giddy, like I'm about to get an invitation to move with him to Dubai. But I haven't heard from him since. Not too surprising since I responded to him around 6:30 and he was probably headed out for dinner and a night on the town. He said he has a lot of people he wants to see before he leaves. Of course, who knows what he's up to today?
I really don't know what's going to happen. If he invited me to move with him, I would strongly consider it. It's weird to think that he could influence a huge change in my life or he could just disappear and I'd never see him again. I have another week or so to find out.
Possibly, he will play it safe and not say anything before he leaves and wait until I make good on my promise to visit him and he settles in before asking me to join him.
Or maybe I'm still in my deluded fantasy world. But it does make losing Chris a lot easier to take when I think of David. And when David is gone, I hope I have something or someone else to help me get over the loss.
Wah, wah, wah, I know. September should usher in a whole new era. Let me mourn for now.
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