In my latest dating disaster, my so-called relationship lasted less time than my UTI. And I went for the five day course, not the seven day. Tragic I know.
The worst part of all this is that I specifically asked for no drama. I put it on the line, was upfront with what I wanted, and what I expected. He agreed. Saying he wanted the same thing and to be a part of my life. Oh happy days! Finally. An adult conversation with a male, with someone who owned his shit.
Fast forward five days, and I get dumped. He can't handle the stress of a new relationship and the personal things he's currently dealing with. He needs space. Needs time. It's just too much.
The thing is I don't react. You'd think I would see red and lose my mind. Tell him that he can fuck off and die. Instead I'm calm and totally at peace. I tell him that if that's what he needs, that's what he'll get. And I let him leave.
I've realised that if I want men to stop playing games with me that I need to stop engaging. I need to stop playing games myself. Freaking out. Screaming and yelling. Verbally throwing up on him wouldn't have solved anything. Wouldn't have made him change his mind. Wouldn't have made me feel better. Wouldn't have made it hurt less.
So I'm out. Keep playing games boys. But do it on your own.
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