The 3rd Time I Knew I Should End It – But Didn’t

We’ll shit. Here we are.

Hi.

BACKGROUND
It probably goes without saying that things didn’t quite end with Mr. Puerto Rico like I said. When I wrote the last blog, I assumed it was over. But, like a fucking clown, he said the right things and I hid my last blog entry, deleted my dating apps, and let an emotionally unavailable dude waste space in my emotionally available life. I know I sound bitter, but I’m actually much less bitter than I seem. I’m just pissed at myself for all of those times I was trying to connect emotionally, and he would respond with some random bullshit, and I let it go.

Me: Hey! If I haven’t told you lately. I like you, mmmkay. <3
PR: Hi! I’m a little stressed with everything I’m going through, but it’s ok. Not trying to push or force things, tomorrow is another day!
Me: (uhhh… ok!? We’ve been dating 4.5 months… this is obviously going well. )

“I tell you I’m thirsty and you offer me a sandwich. Thank you and fuck you” – This Boy’s Life

THE FINALE
I’m sitting at work and PR texts to say that he’s sitting at home studying and paying bills for most of the morning. We chat back and forth a bit and I think it would be a nice surprise to Postmates he and his son some donuts for breakfast, since he had pretty much mentioned donuts every night for the past week. I placed the order with Postmates with instructions to just leave the donuts on his doorstep:

He basically went on to say that opening the door and seeing them was an unwanted distraction. Like, really!? You obviously don’t get me at all. What the fuck am I still doing here? I spent the evening texting with Michelle contemplating ending it… over fucking donuts.

Yeah. Donuts.

…but he beat me to the punch (again) and sent “Dear Jane” text number 2.

Neato.

Mr. Puerto Rico

Hinge (5)

OK. Well… Maybe I lied.

After 3 months of hanging out, and a handful of miscommunications and “WTF” moments, I had to say goodbye to one of the hottest and most epic showers I’ve ever had the pleasure of dating. You will be missed.

PROLOGUE
PR: “Well, you look like a perfectly good girl.”
Me: ‘Uh… I do? Pretty sure no one who knows me would ever say that about me. Sweet! I’ll take it!”

We didn’t talk much before meeting up. We texted briefly a handful of times before he asked pointedly whether I felt like we needed to keep talking or if we could just skip to the date part; his being good looking has its advantages, and I agreed even though I hadn’t felt any real chemistry at that point.

November 30, 2019
THE DATE
Karma Brew – Sacramento, CA

It was pouring, and despite my best attempts at not being early, I failed. I really do need to learn the art of leaving 10 minutes later like the rest of the world. I went inside, sat at the bar, ordered a sangria and he sat down beside me a few minutes later.

FIRST IMPRESSIONS
Earthy. Distinctive. Peculiar. Sexy.

Truth be told, the specifics of this actual first date are unremarkable. We sat at the bar for about an hour making small talk, then walked over to the Snug for a cocktail, then to Shady for a Midnight Stalker (my favorite drink), then stood in the rain kissing for about 20 minutes. He asked me if I wanted to come to his house and I declined. About halfway home, my hormones overrode that decision and he sent me his address. You can finish this part of the story however you’d like.

OVERALL: 5/10

The following few months consisted of about 14 moments that made me think I could fall for him, 26 moments that were cute but somehow fell flat, and 42 moments that were obvious warning signs that I vented loudly to Michelle and then promptly ignored. I mean, on paper, when you looked at what he could bring to the table, it didn’t look so good. Aside from the fact that he is unemployed, anything that involved intimacy and feelings would lead to a discussion about his wanting to stay in the present, that nothing lasts forever, and that he wants to take it slow.

Yes, I know.
Calm down, I said I liked you.

NEW YEARS EVE

A few nights prior to NYE, Mr. Puerto Rico and I discovered that we both had a romantic relationship with cornbread. I had a random box of the Kodiak cakes cornbread in my cupboard, so when I went to his house later that evening, we made it; it was the most disgusting sofa-mattress I’ve ever tasted. That night, we vowed to find the best cornbread in town. Since we had decided to spend NYE together at my place with the kids, I thought it would be cute if I would surprise them by baking a bunch of different boxes of cornbread and we could all do a blind taste to vote on which we liked most.

I spent the day running around and baking so that cornbread would be ready when they arrived. Honestly, the whole thing just kind of fell flat, and definitely didn’t have the cute factor I was aiming for. “Jeez, you think you made enough cornbread?” It was pretty much then that I realized that he didn’t get me, probably wasn’t that into me, and was likely too wounded to make any room for me in there anyhow. While there were many moments that showed that there was something there, that wall either has a solid foundation, or I’m just meh.

FRIENDS WITH BENEFITS?
I just needed him to say, “Hey! I like you, I want you, let’s keep going,” but he could never give me that. I was okay with dating him, but it felt like he wanted all of the benefits of being my boyfriend without any emotional reciprocity. I asked him if he would prefer to have more of a FWB scenario:

So basically, that is out the window because he wants a partner who is willing to be monogamous and emotionally vulnerable, without any hopes or expectations of reciprocity. Neat. Of course, he would say things like he didn’t put his “pipi’ in just anyone, but then I would like to remind him that we may (or may not) have fucked on the first date… so his credibility is a bit flawed.

THE FINAL RECKONING
I had spent the afternoon with Michelle in Lodi wine tasting, and we were laughing at some of the descriptions of the wines at M2:

I thought it was funny and posted it on my Instagram Story, but Mr. Puerto Rico no likey.

PR: “You still on Bumble? Uhh?”
Me: “You’re dumb. I thought it was pretty funny.”
PR: “Lies, but it’s ok.”

Lies? I have so many questions:

  1. We talked about this. I told him I never deleted the account, but he didn’t remember. As long as you don’t participate, what does it matter? If I was hiding it, why would I joke openly about it?
  2. He told me his friend saw my photo and let him know. Ok. Fine. So why not ask me? I would have shown you that I hadn’t been talking with anyone anyhow.
  3. He then said he was “browsing” and found it. Ummm, really?
  4. Did you really act like a crazy person, make an account, and swipe until you found me?
  5. How long did you have that photo just ready for just that right moment?

He then changed his tune and said, “I could come over later if I want”.
…if I want.
…IF I WANT!?

Would you just fucking tell me that you want to see me? I mean, seriously. Fuck!

He called me and basically said that he doesn’t feel comfortable saying it that way, just because I’m asking him to. The next day I got the “Dear Jane” text.

Preemptive Strike.
Very Nice.