Los Angeles: Halftime Report

Universal fact: The problem with having expectations is that you’re bound to be disappointed.  Even when you think you’ve got your expectations in check, you might surprise yourself – and not necessarily in a good way.  Right now, I’m blogging from my hotel room; it’s the first time since I arrived in LA three days ago that I’ve had time alone, and it feels like a huge relief despite all the loud-ass mofos out on the street right now.

Maybe I’m stressed over work.  Maybe I’m out of sorts because I haven’t been home for 11 days and have three more to go.  Maybe it’s all the crap that I’ve been eating since virtually every meal is from a restaurant.  Maybe it’s because he doesn’t think that talking to his ex-wife every three weeks and seeing her every month and a half is often (I repeat: they have no kids).  Maybe it’s because he wanted me to haul myself and 65lbs worth of bags to his house tomorrow unaccompanied.  Maybe he isn’t everything that I’d (un)consciously expected him to be.  Maybe it’s all of these things snowballing, making me want to run back to the normalcy at home.  Did I just call it “normalcy”??

Whatever the reason is, I’m not feeling being here right now.  At all.  On Monday, he came by to have lunch with me.  While we were sitting around back in my hotel room, his ex-wife texted him regarding her nephew who’d been crashing on his couch and who told her that he’d been going out to meet a girl from Brooklyn.  First of all, I don’t need, like, nor want people all up in my shit like that because as far as I’m concerned, there’s nothing to know.  Second of all, the barrage of questions from her afterwards was unwarranted.  “Brooklyn?”  “Did she come out here just to see you?” “Why isn’t she staying with you?”  Well, dumbass, even if I wanted to, I couldn’t because your nephew is staying with him because you’re too much of a train wreck for him to stay with.  I offered to respond to her messages but for whatever reason, he didn’t think that was a good idea.  🙂 The best part of this onslaught of text messages was when she asked if she could offer him some tips, including – but not limited to – telling me that I’m pretty.  I couldn’t help but agree with her.  When he said that he tells me I’m beautiful everyday, I had to disagree.  When he went to tell me, I told him that ehh… it didn’t count anymore.  I had to meet my coworkers for an early dinner so he left, but came back later that evening.  When I opened my door, he was standing there with flowers which he said were for not telling me that I was beautiful.

“I’m Sorry” flowers.  I’m familiar with those.  That’s the only kind I’ve gotten in three years.


Last night, he came by again and we went to dinner on what was the closest thing to a proper date that we’ve had so far.  Afterwards, I couldn’t keep it in anymore.  We’re supposed to speak up when something bothers us, right?  So I did.  I brought up the subject of his ex-wife and told him that the whole situation with her made me feel uncomfortable.  Who the hell wants to feel uncomfortable?  He swears up and down that there is nothing to be concerned or worried about but he can say that shit till he’s blue in the face and it would make no difference to me.  He said that the only way I would realize this on my own is over time.  Do I care to invest that time at the sake of my own discomfort?  He said that they speak less and less (every three weeks isn’t a lot?) and would decrease even more as I rise as a priority in his life.  Do I really need to compete against his ex-wife for his time?  I could barely look at him anymore.  Suddenly, I didn’t want anything to do with him.  Was I overreacting?  I wasn’t sure.  The only thing I was sure of was that the reality of the situation turned me off enough that I told him that I genuinely did not know if I wanted to spend the weekend with him.

Look, he’s a nice guy and I like him, but is dealing with all this really worth the stress and discomfort?  I’ve got more than enough going on, with barely any time for myself.  Any time that I spend with someone else is a decision that I make wisely, strategically.  I will never tell a man who he can and can’t be friends with.  But every decision we make has an effect, right?

Knowing that we weren’t going to see each other today, and possibly ever again, I suggested we do the NY Times quiz meant to create a greater feeling of closeness and intimacy between two people.  This came out in January and neither of us had done it before.  Maybe it would redeem anything in me that already disappeared.


The questions were pretty serious at times, and I learned a little about him that I hadn’t known before.  Did it make me feel closer to him?  No.  He said that he thinks I should give things between us a chance because he has a feeling it could turn into something great.  I’m not sure I agree with that, but I don’t disagree with it.  He said that he wants to see me everyday.  Everyday this week till I leave?  No, everyday.  Oh.  That’s a lot.  Maybe he isn’t as used to being alone as he says he is?  I didn’t say that, though.  But I agreed to see him on Thursday as planned after all… even though, right now as I write this, I’m not sure that’s a good idea.

Tonight we spoke, and I asked about logistics for tomorrow.  He’s working a half day and was going to meet me at my hotel for lunch in the area, then ride his motorcycle back to his house while all 65lbs of my stuff and I took an uber there.  Umm… what the FUCK????  Hell to the NO!!  This reminded me of the time the guy in Queens wanted me to go out there by myself that first time.  WHAT IS WRONG WITH THESE GUYS???    Just when I was feeling better about spending the weekend with him, this shit.  Just like the guy in Queens, he didn’t see the big deal because I always take Uber.  THAT IS NOT THE POINT!!!  I told him that I didn’t think that was the right thing, the polite thing, to do.  Oh, but he’d have helped me load the Uber up with my bags.  Again – NOT THE FUCKING POINT.

Don’t get me wrong, as soon as I said that his plan was absolutely unacceptable, he said that he’d meet me as planned, have lunch together as planned, and then go back to his house together.

One of the things about me that frustrates that hell out of myself is that I can’t immediately articulate why something bothers me.  I wanted to blog about my experience with this guy for several reasons, but also with the hope that I could sort out my feelings on the matter.  What I’ve come up with so far is this: I want to be with someone who can and wants to, for lack of a better term, take care of me; someone who knows fully well that I am capable of taking care of myself, but who wants to make sure that I’m alright and who ultimately has my best interests, safety, and security at heart.

It doesn’t appear that I’ve found that yet.


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