Yes, Internets, I have been holding out on you. There was a boy. And now there is not a boy. And I don't really want to tell you a whole lot more about it than that, for various good reasons that I also don't want to share. All that really matters is that it didn't feel right. People always say to trust your gut, and mine was telling me that this wasn't the one. Maybe it was my fault. Maybe it was no one's fault. Maybe I'm being even more gunshy and cryptic than I otherwise would be because I'm not entirely sure he's not going to read this.
I feel bad about a lot of things at the moment, and not the least of those things is that I ended it at the library. And not just any library, but the brand-new, shiny downtown library. If breaking up with someone at the library is like breaking up with someone at church (the library being my version of a sacred place, of course), then breaking up at that library is like breaking up at St. Patrick's Cathedral. If it makes any difference, it actually happened in the coffee shop on the main floor of the library and not in the library proper. Maybe that's more like breaking up in the church basement.
In any case, thinking about that made me think about where and how all my other relationships (or, brief attempts at relationships) have ended, and since it is Friday, you know that means I'm going to tell you about them in five-point form.
- The last time I dated someone for any length of time ("any length" in this case meaning four to six weeks) was last winter. I knew I was not excited enough about him when I realized I would rather spend a Saturday night home alone hooking up my new scanner than spend another evening with him. I would like to say I did the mature thing and saw him one more time to tell him in person, but that, frankly, would be a lie. I would further like to say that I told him directly, over the phone, in real-time, but unfortunately that would be untrue too. Yes, I cut him loose via email, like the digital age girl I am. In my defense, I actually tried to start the conversation via telephone, but aborted that plan when I realized he was at a friend's house with several people very nearby. And at that point, he already knew something was up, so I decided to just log in and continue my thought online. In my defense, if what goes around comes around, it was only my rightful payback for #2.
- Kris was a dumbass. I knew this, really. I knew he was immature and unmotivated and had no intention of really staying with me. Still, I did not expect him to end a two-and-a-half month relationship by simply never calling me again. I also did not expect that he would do so after the first (and obviously only) night we ever ended up sans-clothes together. Sometimes you get what you don't expect. At least I didn't get anything worse from him.
- The last guy to legitimately hold the "boyfriend" title for me was the one who started the curse I wrote about a while ago. I remain convinced that despite its 4.5-star review, nothing good ever happens at this bar. Go ahead and try to prove me wrong on that.
- Jimmy was my most amicable breakup to date. You may have read about him before, as I've linked to this story more than once. We broke up on his porch swing on a sweaty summer night. I still think about it every time I drive down that street.
- And finally, there was this guy. You know--the semicolon stealer? That ended on Dayton Avenue in St. Paul, on the sidewalk outside my friend's condo. Strangely, I ended that after what was our best date ever. Unfortunately, it was our best date because it was a double-date, meaning I had two other people to help me avoid strained small talky conversation with the guy. If they could have gone with us on all future dates, perhaps it could have worked out. As I do not live in Utah, however, I figured it was best to let him go.
So tell me. What about you? Where's the worst (or best) place you've broken up?