Farewell, So Long

4 Aug

Today, I’d like to say goodbye.  To my shoe collection.  Because I’m giving up high heels for a new man, who we will appropriately title Ru.  Which is short for RuPaul, because next Halloween, when S and I convince him to dress up in drag as RuPaul, might be the next opportunity I get to wear six inch heels.  When he’s not wearing his crocs (swear on my life), he clocks in at exactly the same height as me.  You see, the crocs give him a little marshmallowy boost, so he takes them off when I need to measure our height against one another.  I’m very self conscious about dating a shawty.  He’s also my age.  Life as we know it… is changing.  For better or worse?  TBD.

I’ve gone back and forth on the idea of actually blogging about him.  I logged the pros and cons on the back of an ATM receipt.  The major con is that I am blissfully happy and I usually use this forum, this message board, to verbally beat up my boyfriends.  And I really like Ru.  I don’t want to hurt him.   I don’t have anything bad to say at all.  But, I feel like I owe it to myself to transcribe something good happening to me.  Why only harp on the bad?  Because, it’s typically more fun, that’s why.  But not today, folks, not today.   

The pro is that you might get to see my sentimental side.  I’ve got a heart made of mush, just like the innards of Ru’s crocs.  It’s been exactly one month and I’m happy.   And the happiness makes me extremely protective.  I don’t want him to feel uncomfortable with my overbearing personality, or my past, or my phone buzzing at 2 a.m. on the weekends.  So, I’ve slowly wrecked everything else that I had going on to make sure there is no question about who I am interested in.   I can’t even imagine being with those trannies anymore anyway, so why keep them around? 

Dweeb has taken it really hard.  His poor milk man muscles just don’t know what to do when I don’t drop everything to attend to his bi-polar personality.  And my tendency to just ignore him hasn’t gone over well at all either.  In the past four weeks, he has texted and called a number of times… all with the same overarching question “are you still into this?” followed by silence, followed by “lose my number”.  Rinse, lather, repeat.  I should have just taken care of the situation 30 days ago, but I just don’t burn bridges like that.  Especially with guys who have treated me so well in the past. 

So this morning, when I rolled over and checked my phone and had another “just let me know – are you into this or not?” text from Dweeb (received at 2:01 a.m.), I knew I had to take care of the situation.  I need to start spending my mornings drinking chocolate milk while listening to Ru tell me how beautiful I look when I wake up, not reading text messages from some asshat who dropped me in a snow bank and basically told me he’d rather drop dead then date me.  GFY, Dweeb.   

But instead of responding like any normal human being, I choose to play games.  So, after a little copy and paste, I responded to his text with the exact message from Dasani, the one he sent when he “broke up with me” a few weeks ago.  Here it is again, not a word altered for Dweeb. 

4 Things I wanted you to know: 1. I have mono. 2. I think you’re an awesome person and have had such a good time getting to know you. 3. I’m really sorry I haven’t been in touch. 4. I’ve realized I’m a bit of a mess and I need a good friend more than I need a girl friend. I would love for you to be a friend, at least for now if you wanted. Not asking you to wait, or claiming that I’ll figure myself out anytime soon, but that’s what I’ve got. 

It’s a good go-to message, if anyone wants to borrow it.  And I laughed so hard when I sent it, just waiting for him to reply with some snarky comment.  I mean, “I need a good friend more than I need a girl friend”… I put the ball on the tee for him with that one.

And what does he do?  Takes. Me. Seriously.  His response:

Hey, I’m defiantly up for friends.  I like you a lot and have a great time with you.  Mono, really?  You’re a fucking hypochondriac. 

I almost felt bad that he bought it.  Defiantly almost felt bad.  Then I realized that defiantly and definitely are two completely different words.   Then I laughed again. 

Ru would probably laugh too, if I told him the story.  He’d at least give me a big toothy grin and pretend to think it’s funny.   Then we’d drink chocolate milk and he’d tell me I am pretty.  Rinse, lather, repeat.


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