We just broke up. I am doing okay, though, so please do not worry about me. The relationship was not long, and I know in my heart that I will be able to recover in time.
He told me he was thinking about me. Wished me sweet dreams on the nights he promised to call but did not. In the end, he asked me if I had disappeared, moved on. I felt it best to not respond, although I know it may sound harsh.
Why be so cold, so seemingly callous? Because, in fact, we never met. Never spoke on the phone, not even once. Ours was a relationship based entirely on texts. Mostly his.
We met online, of course, in the place where “nobody” knows your name (cue Cheers theme song). A chance meeting in cyberspace. He sent me a “Flirt” and I deemed his somewhat normal looking profile the one out of over a hundred I received during my first week on this particular dating website worthy of a response.
The email exchange was brief, kept deliberately short by me. I am not looking for a pen pal and I do not believe in wasting anyone’s time, especially my own. He asked for my number and I obliged.
“Call u tonite,” he promised. “Happy Monday.”
No call followed, however, only an apology text late that night for blowing me off. He “got home really late,” was the chosen explanation.
“Happy Tuesday!” chimed my iPhone early the next morning, Will “try to reach you 6:30-7:30” on the drive home from work.
No call ever came, though, only another text suggesting that a 9 pm call would be too late considering that I have to put my daughter to bed.
“Daughter?” I questioned.
My eldest daughter is in the eighth grade, my second daughter in the seventh, and both rarely fall asleep before 11 o’clock. Funny, I do not recall ever discussing my children’s sleep habits with this stranger.
“Sorry, meant son and daughter.”
Okay… I have two daughters AND a son, jackass. Now you are clearly confusing me with someone else. But I am a good sport, so I suggested that if he wanted to still call around nine, that would be fine. He agreed. But… he never called. Only texted again, this time claiming he was confused. He thought I was supposed to call him!
“Whoops,” he bellowed over text.
This time, I did not respond.
Other texts followed over the next three days, solidifying the relationship that never was. Wednesday was an apology for not texting me all day (“big meeting in Massachusetts”), Thursday was a wish for a “Happy ‘Thump’ Day” (this guy sure likes the days of the week), along with more well wishes for a good day at work (I’m a stay-at-home mom — my work day never ends). And then came Friday, breakup day (“Did u disappear? Move on already?”).
Yes, it was true. I had disappeared. I had moved on. But probably not like he thought. I was not “onto the next,” like so many online serial daters are today. On that day, I moved on to me.
Finding someone special means putting our best foot forward. So, to any man who does not do so? I am happy to say, these days, all I can give you is the boot.