Just realized that The Pedant no longer sends me his work schedule every week. Which, I mean, obviously, because we aren’t dating. Still though, it’s one more thing I’ve lost; one more thing to adjust to. In a weird way it reminds me of when I quit my office job that had come with a bunch of perks (discounts at various stores, special rates at a particular bank) and a few weeks after I quit, mail started trickling in from all these places letting me know the perks were now cut off. It kind of made the big change in my life more real.
Anyway, The Pedant and I had a few weeks of radio silence as we processed the breakup but now he’s occasionally interacting with me on Facebook, so I guess he is trying to cultivate some sort of friendship. That would be nice. We don’t work too well as a couple but there are things I like about him and I don’t want him gone from my life.
It’s sort of a relief not to know his schedule anymore. I did so much of the work in that relationship, including comparing our respective schedules and trying to plan times for us to get together – plans he didn’t always agree to. And then maybe I’d hear that he’d gone to a concert, on a week that he was “working too much” and “too exhausted” to see me. Or I’d pick a good time for him to come over and he’d say that he couldn’t stay over that night because he had a really early start the next day – but his schedule had said he started at 2pm or something. And I’d gotten to a point with The Pedant where I kinda-sorta wondered if he might be lying to me. I got a vibe from him that he vaguely scared of me (or of who he wrongly assumed I am) and felt he had to justify his use of time to me – he would often recite his work schedule to me in tedious detail as proof that he couldn’t come over at a certain time, or list off a bunch of things that had happened to him that made him too busy or tired to see me, when I had not asked him to account for every moment of his week and really didn’t care. I trusted him and took him at face value: if he’d simply said he couldn’t come over on a given night, that would have been enough. His compulsion to prove everything to me like I was some micromanaging harpy was mystifying to me and yeah, made me think that he’d turned me into such a straw-harpy in his head that he may have felt the need to lie to me in order not to incur my terrible straw-wrath.
Hmm. I’d been feeling sad and nostalgic about The Pedant but now I’m remembering how often he seemed to mistake me for someone else. Always assuming that I was way more emotion-driven than I am and that I must be needing him to understand me and empathize with me when meanwhile I was like “Dude I only care about results, not intentions. I told you what I need you to do in order for me to be happy. I don’t care if you understand why I need it, I just care that you fuckin’ do it.” And this was basically the case with the frequency of our visits: I told him I preferred to see him once every week or two. If he was coming over that often, great. If we had a long lapse between visits and I was getting squirrelly, I’d tell him I was really backed up for touch and companionship and ask him to make a point of coming over at his earliest convenience. If he consistently didn’t come over nearly as often as I wanted, I guess I would have had to say “Hey I really need you to come over more often and if that can’t happen it’s possible this relationship won’t work for me and I’ll have to bail.” None of that – none of it – requires that he account for every minute of his day. Fucking come over once every week or two or tell me that you can’t so I can decide how to proceed.
It’s so weird because he’s clearly been scarred by exes who wanted him to understand them and be all empathetic and listen to their problems without trying to help and pick up on their coy little hints about what they wanted and blah blah blah, and he’s not that kind of guy and they got angry at him for it. And I am exactly what he needs in this respect – I address relationship problems by cutting straight to the behavioural changes I want to see from him, when I vent to him about stuff it’s because I want suggestions, I actively like and crave his greatly flattened emotional affect – but he can’t seem to believe that this is really who I am. I suppose I must secretly want him to be a sympathetic, emotional person because I have a vagina. And of course I’m pretending to be on the same wavelength as him (while no doubt conspiring to manipulate him into compliance) because I have a vagina.
God, he is so fucking tiring. Good riddance.