I remember holding my niece for the first time and telling my sister that the worst thing you could do is raise your daughter to be a genuinely nice, trusting, and understanding person. Daisy Buchanan once said, “I hope she’ll be a fool—that’s the best thing a girl can be in this world, a beautiful little fool.”
Daisy, shut the fuck up.
So what triggered this memory?
I went to a bar I like tonight called Doar Bros. It’s a wonderful, intimate spot. I first discovered Doar when Dr. 50 Shades took me there for our third date. The next night, I took Anatole there because I had to show off this hidden gem. The bartender and manager, who have taken a liking to me after only those first two visits, informed me that the first guy–Dr. 50 Shades–seemed great, but the second guy—Anatole—was a complete asshole. Besides coming off as “arrogant” and “pretentious” in the way he apparently spoke to them, they told me in disgust and pity that he was swiping through Tinder throughout our entire time there. Here, I assumed he was fielding work emails.
Herein lies the problem: I only have two rules for anyone wanting to be in my life in any way:
- Don’t lie to me
- Don’t disrespect me
Seriously? He thought it was an acceptable time to field potentials for his roster…? Was he honestly trying to find the next girl to come over tout suite after he fucked me and I went home to Anubis? Was I really that disenchanting of company?
HA! I’m a fucking delight! Ask anyone who meets me (with the exception of insecure women).
Not only was that embarrassing, the lack of respect Anatole must have for me ultimately is really underscored here. And let me make this VERY clear: my negative feelings here are not stemming from jealousy. I don’t entertain that emotion. As I said, I was angry someone pitied me because of him, hurt that I was apparently wrong in thinking he respected me as a person (much less considered me as anything more than a tight pussy with great tits and a pretty face who came when beckoned), and revolted I did this—built and maintained the illusion of him—to my damn self.
I digress. Now back to the point.
If you ask someone out on a date, a “real date” he said which I found humorous at the time, shouldn’t you be engaged in the conversation? There is nothing more disrespectful than making the effort to hang out with someone who can’t fight their social media addiction long enough to give someone else their full attention for more than 15 minutes. I understand having to answer work emergencies; that’s not the issue here though. Or checking your phone every so often to ensure the cat isn’t on fire. But, couldn’t you have enough courtesy to wait until I went to the bathroom to swipe, instead of letting me politely sit and patiently wait like a damn patient after a lobotomy for your re-engagement? Even better, why didn’t you just say you didn’t want to hangout with me further and leave? I would’ve happily fucked off and spent time with someone who did value my time and attention.
Balls, Gentlemen. Grow some balls. And, fuck chivalry (it’s too lofty a goal in this era), settle for finding your dignity.
Let’s recap:
Strike 1: He lied to me (the birthday bullshit)
Strike 2: He disrespected me
Even though this wasn’t an egregious offense, it’s still treatment below me. He told me once that I need to have more respect for myself and that most people don’t deserve my attention. I was just blind to the fact he was referring to himself.
But, it’s very common for people to build an illusion of someone else. We see what we want to see and project ourselves onto them. We excuse poor behavior in order to protect the image we constructed of them. When you genuinely care about someone, it’s difficult and painful to recognize that you were wrong.
However, having given myself time to put my natural feelings aside and reflect upon everything analytically, I am very grateful for Anatole.
Though I don’t understand him, I also don’t need to; he has his vices, but everyone does. I still think very highly of him and sincerely hope he finds whatever it is that will make him happy. I am appreciative he gave me some fantastic memories, not to mention set an unprecedented bar for the level of desire I want to have for whoever I’m patiently waiting for. Now exposed, I won’t settle for anything less.
Furthermore, even being new to this game, I should know better than breaking the cardinal rule: you never allow yourself to develop genuine feelings for your beaus, other than a sense of friendship, admiration, and respect, but never romantic. I was safe from it, from him, when he was unavailable. Though all I wanted was to get to know him better, what did I really expect? Who was I to him other than a girl he found on a dating site? But, Da Vinci made an excellent point when I spoke to him about it: “It’s not your fault, it’s your mistake.”
Anatole was never a mistake. My mistake was thinking I knew better than he did of what he wanted.
So, yes, I am the beautiful little fool here. But I’ll be damned if I will be again.
Leave a Reply