I haven’t always been the supportive, empathetic, thoughtful therapist and expert girlfriend I fancy myself to be today. During this time, aka: the dark ages, I was one of those girls who NEVER wanted to “define” anything, and “let’s just have fun and see what happens”, and “oh, he’s not my boyfriend- we just hang out” (aka have lots of sex then awkward conversations after). Which I think is fine for a girl recovering from a major heart break. For a bit. Probably not okay to extend this period for yy.ee.aa.rr.sssss. Especially when you’ve been “not dating” (but really actually dating) the same person for over a year. To sum up, I had issues.
I also had best friends. The best kind of friends, the ones that get you, and laugh at you, and understand your particular brand of screwed up crazy. These are the same best friends who I spent the better part of several years as roommates. Roommates who have watched every single episode of Friends and Sex And The City together. Repeatedly. Being young 20 something’s with limited life experiences of our own, we often related everything back to episodes. For example “take off your shirt and tell us” probably wouldn’t mean much to most (the assumption being we were perves- which truthfully, we were). But to us it meant the Thanksgiving episode of friends where Brad Pitt stares as Rachel’s former classmate and arch nemesis. The quote comes from Phoebes, which let’s be honest, no one can blame her for. Also, “I majored in lightening rounds.”
Anyway, I digress. Important points: best friends, lots of pop culture references, lots of issues. Okay back on track. I had been nondating dating this guy for over a year. Again, let’s read that again…over a year. Making it my longest nonrelationship relationship of my life at that point. That whole year I had expertly avoided any “what are we” and “where are we going” conversations, not an easy feat, mind you. And let me be honest. This guy was wonderful. There was no need to avoid it. We were extremely compatible, cracked each other’s shit up, everything was quite well physically, etc. Not to mention he was extremely attractive (and covered in tattoos….le sigh). Say it with me this time, issues. I had them.
Well, my nonboyfriend boyfriend’s parents were in town and they “couldn’t wait to meet me.” And I couldn’t have been more freaked out. Seriously, I think I have hives at the thought. In my issue riddled mind I was thankful that I was in grad school and studying for the GRE at the time so my excuse was built in…I was late because I was
“studying”. Aka- hiding in my apartment and watching sex and the city (shocker, I know). I figured I’d wait until the last possible moment then drive over. Fingers crossed they wouldn’t be there, but if they were, I timed it so it would have only been a few minutes, tops. Also for the record, I wasn’t forced into this. The nonboyfriend boyfriend
(let’s just call him the NBFBF from here on out) wasn’t forcing me into this. It was actually pretty sweet. But I was having none of it. After waiting to the last possible second, I hoped in my truck (ha, remember that time I drove a truck??) and headed over to his apartment. I texted in the car that I was heading over. Even think I added something like “looking forward to meeting them” (I’m shaking my head at myself).
Important side note, this is during the time that texting and driving was NBD. It’s possible that they changed this because of me. No, I didn’t crash. I did something much much worse.
“Aww, they just left you missed them.” Responded the NBFBF.
“Shit, that sucks, I’m sooooo sorry. I just reeeally needed to getthrough that practice test.” Said the shitty non girlfriend/doesn’t deserve to be your girlfriend girl.
“No problem, they totally understood. Next time.” NBFBF, who then added something sweet, supportive, and adorable.
Meanwhile, back in bitchville. I also started texting one of my best friends, who knew the situation. There was this episode of sex and the city where Carrie totally bailed on meeting Big/Aiden’s parents. I can’t even remember anymore. But what I do remember is that I sent my BFF something along these lines.
“OMFG. I totally just lied and blew off meeting [NBFBF]’s parents. No way was I going to do that, who is he kidding? Shit, I’m such a Carrie. And a bitch.”
Except. I didn’t send it to my BF. I sent it to my NBFBF. Yup. This is when phone immediately responded to the last person that texted them…which was the sweet/supportive message from NBFBF. So that’s where my horrid message went. And I immediately freaked out. We are talking panic attack mode. Of course I realized the minute I
hit send and tried desperately to snatch it back out of the textual airwaves. This is the part where I almost crashed the car…err truck. The worst part is that I’m literally around the corner from him. He knows I’m coming, expecting me, excited to see me. And he just got that message. I remember pulling over and calling the BF the message
was intended for in full freak out mode. Hilarious in retrospect.
I finally pulled it together enough to go over. Most awkward entrance ever. God, I’m shuddering just thinking about it. So humbling explaining myself. I’ll never forget him saying “So… why didn’t you want to meet them?” and looking like a kid who’s puppy I just kicked. He graciously forgave me, but it’s no wonder that our nonrelationship
relationship just sort of fizzled out after that. The nonbreakup breakup situatable for the undefined but complete mess I had made for myself.