So things with the Bartender didn’t work out in the long run- which I knew they wouldn’t but the end to anything is still disappointing. In the end we had fun together, but while our relationship wasn’t serious- when you spend that much time with someone, things become serious. It’s hard to meld your life with someone else’s and yet keep it causal. It is definitely for the best, and we ended things amicably …for the most part.
But I do have to say I am still a little miffed about how it finished. I thought at the age of 35 men had grown into their balls- knew how to just step up a bit, face the harsh reality of life and move on. Though, now in retrospect I realize this was a foolish notion. You’d think dating two 38 yr old cowards, er, men, would have taught me something… like; men never grow up.
The Bartender clearly has not grown up. He pulled the infamous- ‘maybe I’ll just ignore her for a bit and see what happens.’ They know this is an asshole move, and yet I think about 85% of men pull this crap. They are actually okay with being perceived as an asshole rather than stepping up to the plate and saying, like an adult- “I’m just not that into you”. Females clearly are the stronger sex. The best part is, they pull this crap, and as in my case, we -brave woman that we are, call them out on it- which inevitably leads to the end.
As I unceremoniously gathered my few belongings and made my way out of his horrible apartment, he had the nerve to apologize to me for making me be the one to raise the issue. When I got to the door, I turned, kissed him goodbye and with a slight smirk said, “That’s okay. I’VE got balls.”
When I got in the car, I felt triumphant, and yet defeated. Damn, ...
Love stinks.
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