“I’m tryna figure this shit out, but you won’t even give me a chance to.”
Excuses. Deflections. Lies. Dodges. If you’ve heard one, you’ve heard them all.
Before we had met, I’d already had the painful experience of prepping a man to be the knight and shining armor I always wanted…for another woman. I was the waiting room while his bruised heart was made new again just to send it home to be cared for by someone else. Eight precious years I’ll never get back, lessons I didn’t ask to learn the hard way, friends I should’ve listened to, and a beautiful baby boy I could never regret, later, I was right back in the presence of a man who was all-of-a-sudden confused about what he wanted.
It seemed to be crystal clear the night we met at a local nightclub. He wasn’t unsure at all when he intruded on my personal space and assumed I wanted another of whatever I was drinking. But I let him yell out to the bartender without interruption since he at least had the decency to pay for my drink instead of trying to get me to pay for his. Yes, it’s sad when such low standards are refreshing, but that’s the world we live in.
Although he wasn’t the most physically attractive, his cologne and chivalry added a few cool points to him, so I entertained his small talk. We exchanged numbers and got to know each other over the following months complete with butterflies and some amazing sex. But then it came. That dead space between getting to know each other and the realization that there’s not much more one should have to know to decide they’re done keeping their options open.
I came to the conclusion he had decided, and his options won, so I gracefully bowed out of further competition. I admit, I missed the part where I took him aside and explained why he’d no longer be hearing from me, but I’m not a fan of telling men shit they should already know. Their mother or father should’ve raised him to understand that if he got to know a woman, knew her well enough to sleep with her, but not well enough to be exclusive with her, there’s a high likelihood she will stop wasting her time. According to a call I got three days later, they omitted that part from his birds-n-the-bees talk, because he was whining and asking why I “switched up.” I told him, “I didn’t switch up. I woke up.”
Some may feel like I jumped the gun, only four months in and not giving him a chance to bullshit me by me asking, “So, what are we?” But, oh well. That’s their heart. This is mine, and I’m not leaving it out to dry in someone’s ambiguity, again.
Being with my ex taught me that ignoring red flags for that chance to be the one exception to the rule rarely ends with a happy ending. He started out in similar fashion. Pursued me in the beginning to “get to know me” but left me to pursue his claiming me.
And I did.
I was pulling teeth the entire rest of the relationship for simple shit, feeling like I had done something wrong to no longer be good enough to deserve reciprocity, and finally saving face every time I heard about how quickly his new relationship was moving along after I’d gotten enough of being on his back burner.
This new man of a few months was dejavu, and I wanted out.
He tried the whole, “I’m tryna figure some stuff out right now,” “I thought what we had was good. Why you wanna change it,” and “So you just gon’ up and ghost me? Wow…” bullshit. I hung up before he finished the last sentence, but I could already hear the guilt trips constipating in his throat on their way out of his mouth so I saved us both some stress and hung up.
I am a woman. I have a heart. I have expectations for those I allow in my life based on my goals and lessons I’ve learned. Being sure of what you want is a standard you must meet to be here, and while I’m willing to compromise on some things, I’ve paid too high a price learning that it’s not worth compromising on that.
I am not a fucking training facility, and if you can’t make up your mind, I will make it up for you.