dating

If you asked me what my type was, I’d tell you I typically like undateable men. Plain and simple. The more unavailable the better.

When I first moved to St. Louis, I chose to spend time with a friend who lived about 2 hours away. He had just gotten out of a serious relationship, so his physical and emotional distance made him undateable. I thought he was a “safe” option. He knew enough about my upbringing that he didn’t need explanations when I cried. It was comfortable. We had always been friends, so I knew no matter what happened, we would stay friends.

When that relationship fizzled, I met a man who lived just around the corner from me. He was independent in ways I had never seen, ridiculously goofy, and had a charming smile. The catch? He was only in St. Louis for 6 months. And he didn’t know where his next stop would be. For the first two years in his career, he would move to different parts of the country every 6 months. Even though I knew he was moving the day I met him, I didn’t care. Moving meant there wouldn’t ever be a break-up or a heartbreaking ending. He was moving–that was it. My family had just moved, so I needed someone. He was alone in St. Louis–it worked. But once again, he was undateable.

I chose these men in an effort to protect myself from heartbreak, but in the end, I was still left broken and bruised. While I’m still friends with the first guy mentioned, our friendship will never be the same and the career move that followed rocked my world. Obviously my strategies of keeping myself safe were failing.

At the end of December a nice new guy popped into the picture. He had traditional values, good grammar, and seemed different from the typical 21 year old, male, college student. He invited me to dinner, opened the doors, and talked about his future plans. His gentleman-like ways were overwhelming. Even though his niceness scared me, I lectured myself about how this is what I needed. Someone nice, normal, and completely datable. What seemed wrong with this? Nothing.

So, after a month of shared dinners and laughs, he invited me to a dance an organization he was an officer in was hosting. It was 2 hours away from my home, approximately 1500 people would be there, and Id only know about 20 of them. Against these odds, I agreed to go. No safety net, no escape plan, just trust to fall back on.

I can’t verbalize how badly I wanted him to be the guy he portrayed himself as, but after an hour at the dance, I knew he wasn’t. A few guys I went to high school with were at the event and when they said hello, New Guy immediately started questioning me. “Did you come here with me? Or are you here alone?” “How do you know him?” “Is there something I need to know?” As he guzzled beer, I avoided eye contact with the men around and stood silently by his side.

Mr. Nice and Normal was becoming a controlling drunk, but I gave him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe I was too friendly? Maybe I smiled too much? Maybe I was giving him a reason to question me?

His behavior quickly escalated. As I talked to a girlfriend (since I was scared to be seen with another man), he maneuvered his way around the dance floor groping and kissing every other girl insight. I blamed it on the beer, but it was still unacceptable. He was a textbook manipulator: make someone feel like they are doing something wrong because you’re really the one who is.

Even though I promised to be sober driver for the night, I wasn’t sticking around to be controlled or embarrassed any longer. I got my keys and left.

Two nights later he proposed a concert and dinner as an apology. I wanted to hear him apologize, so I agreed to go.

My opening line to him was “I get that alcohol makes people do stupid stuff and that men are pigs, but you were SO different. I’m just shocked.”

He replied, “You obviously have a lot to learn if you believed everything I said to you. I’m a man, Brooke. We put on a show for a reason.”

I couldn’t believe what was happening. How could someone lie so consistently? I should’ve seen through his facade, but I didn’t. He completely fooled me.

I abandoned my ways of dating undateable men in an attempt to have some type of normal (potentially scary) relationship. While Mr. Nice and Normal turned out to be Mr. Perverted Control-Freak, I realized dating isn’t that scary. Sometimes people suck REALLY, really bad, but I shouldn’t shield myself from good emotions in an attempt to keep myself from experiencing anything hurtful. Life is brutal, but you get through it. And a drunken 21 year old with a 2.5 GPA doesn’t get to impact anything.

After all, he didn’t even have the brains to know not to mess with a girl with a blog.

Tagged as: College dating, dating

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