Tall Guy Vent

Ok, so let me get this straight, Tall Guy…. The burden is on me here? Well then you sure as hell should get off your ass, be a man and figure it the fuck out. If you have so many issues that place a burden on the one you date, then you should be the one working overtime to compensate for it, not me.

Tall Guy wants an “understanding” girl. I am an understanding girl, but I am not a walk-all-over-me girl. There is a big difference between having empathy for another person’s situation and just having to put up with their shit. And Tall Guy was obviously testing the waters for how much shit I would take. Well, apparently only seven days of it, because that was how long it took to go from “in love” to utter, complete, heart-wrenching silence. No explanation. No post-it that says pathetically “Sorry. I can’t. Don’t hate me.”

NOTHING. Why? I don’t know. My only guess is that I asked too many questions when Tall Guy wanted to give too few answers.

I am ashamed to admit that I have fantasized about running into him. Mostly at the grocery store, he’s coming from one end of an aisle, me from the other. There is an awkward moment of realization for both of us that we would really like to turn around and walk away but continue forward at a painstaking slow gait. At about 5 feet he asks “How are you?” Even in my fantasy I'm realistic enough to know that I will probably search for something sarcastic or perfect to say in return but will only be able to come up with “Fine, how are you?” He’ll give me some bull-shit about how work has been great and he’s been keeping really busy watering plants that improve the air quality in his apartment.

At some point in this ultra lame fantasy he apologizes for never explaining why he suddenly stopped dating me. He makes no excuses, explains nothing. My heart breaks again. I smile, tilt my head to the side and say “Nice seeing ya again, Tall Guy.” And walk away. My own silence shouting, “Please go fuck yourself, you tall hairy bastard.”

That is the most common fantasy. There are many horrible alternatives where I discover I am extremely quick and snarky and can rip him to shreds. On one or two occasions he confessed he was gay and had been living between the legs of a man named Ferdinand for the past several months. Or that his impregnated “roommate” confessed that she wasn’t really pregnant, just decided she wanted to be more curvaceous.. Or even that the baby isn’t his, but the spawn of an alien encounter she experienced (post-coitus with Tall Guy).

Unfortunately, I end up just feeling guilty.