Stories of a Stoic
The day after Valentine’s Day, I went on a date with a girl named Natalya who i’d met on Bumble. We met at Fort Mason in San Francisco and walked five miles through Fisherman’s Wharf, had lunch, then walked back. On the walk she clarified that she was only interested in long-term relationships. I didn’t tell her, but I wasn’t. My life revolves around finishing my book, and i’m not willing to compromise that for anything, as lovely as she was. So I thanked her for the date, planning to go my separate way, but as the weeks went on she would message me every couple of days. We would spend the day talking, as we did this past Thursday night before she asked me out again. I finally confessed my current desire for short-term relationships, but told her how much I enjoyed her company and asked if we could be friends. I felt like she was fumbling when she quickly told me she didn’t like me romantically nor had she all along and only asked me out as a friend. I was bothered by this. She bellowed in laughter at every joke i’d made on our date, she suggested plans for the future, she asked me lots of questions about past romances, and she sent me a lot of messages during the month between that date and now. As a writer my objective is to collect observations, and as a psychologist it’s to culimate them idea into a conclusion. So whenever anybody wrongfully suggests I misperceived something, I get frustrated.
I was angry at her. I bitched to friends about how difficult women can be as I fought the impulse to be dismissive while she tried to nail down a date for us to hang out again (“as friends.”) I became more frustrated as the night went on, so I put my phone away and decided i’d speak to her the next morning. I didn’t like how my opinion of her as this esteemed and respected and enthusiastic person had slightly wilted when I considered how she’d most likely lied to me. But then I had a moment of clarity. Maybe after hurting somebody’s feelings, I can’t expect them to be at her most honest.
Then I began to think about Natalie, another former quasi-romance who’d earned her own Stories of a Stoic entry this past year. Towards the end of our relationship she began playing a lot of games. She would tell me about other guy’s she’d like to be with, experiences she’d like to have, and she would shoot down attempts to hang out with her but then invite me over half an hour later when i’ve already made plans. She left behind a sour taste that entirely consumed my opinion of her. Thursday night after I realized what I did about Natalya, I began thinking about Natalie whom I felt like i’d had similar experiences with, of her telling me something about the reality of us contrary to my perceptions. Then soundbites from her games began flooding back and I started to ponder why she acted that way. Soon a specific sound bite came back from when it seemed like she was going to abandon our limbo for a real relationship with somebody else.
“Why do you care? You’ve made it clear you would never date me.”
“I never said that to her!” I thought. But I did think it. I had a moment of clarity. I did think it. That was my entire mindset towards her. I did want to date somebody more attractive, equally as athletic as me, and somebody more conveniently located to me. And although i’d never say anything like that to a girl, i’m sure it manifested in my behaviors towards her. I took this deep breath, where I realized the responsibility I held in causing harm to another. My inner-monologue began:
“Maybe talking to somebody for two years and rejecting their commitment, their affection, their being, is hurtful. And maybe that hurt was felt as a kind of frustration that manifested through the games a person plays towards another who wants their conversation, but not their romance. Saying yes to her, but also no.”
I thought I had Natalie figured out after our last conversation. I thought Natalie was a bitch. Whether such an opinion should be revoked is something else i’ll also decide in time. But what I can decide is that I thought I understood everything at play when this happened, but I didn’t. It took two years of experiences I needed and reflection of the things I had before i’d learned what I needed to. And by evaluating honestly and thinking deeply, i’ve been handed another piece of the puzzle of what it means to be human.