At The Rate I Fire Guys, I Should Have Donald Trump’s Ugly Hair Piece

I guess you can tell from the title of this post that I broke up with Brad. I knew I had to on Monday, April 23rd. It was the day I was forced to pull the girl card and tell him that I was unhappy with the way things were going.

I took the plunge into the dark abyss that is the land of No Return because, when I said “When am I going to see you?” I received a text that read “Hopefully soon babes.” He didn’t make a date like he used to. He didn’t say he missed me like he used to. He didn’t even seem to want to hang out with me in the near future at all.

I called him and asked if he was angry with me about something and when he said “No,” I told him that things were different – and not in a good way. I let him know that if he no longer wanted to date that was fine, I would just like to know, because I do not like confusion. He assured me that that wasn’t the case.

I then laid all the cards on the table, trying my best to not sound like a nitpicky whiner. I counted his discretions on my fingers: (1) He doesn’t text me throughout the day anymore, (2) He no longer likes talking to me on the phone – Yesing me, getting off the phone right away, etc, (3) Trying to get him to hang out with me is like pulling teeth (4) When he does make plans with me when I ask him, he cancels and has no remorse over it, and (5) The tables have turned because he was always the one asking to see me and I was the one who’d want to read or go to sleep.

“Is this coming completely out of left field, or do you recognize any of what I’m saying?” I asked when I was finished with my digging-thumb-nails-into-my-pointer-fingers-to-keep-my-voice-calm rant.

He didn’t fight me on any of my five points. He simply said that he was being distant because of his allergies and his job hunting and the hostility at his current employment. He told me things would change – that he wouldn’t cancel plans on me anymore, would pay more attention, stop being in his own world. He even made plans with me that night. An hour later, he proceeded to cancel those plans on me. When I heard my own crazy cackling laugh, I knew it was over.

I saw him once over the next week, and realized that things between us were officially dead. There was no more light in his eyes when he saw me, no more constant flow of face kisses, no more life-taking squeezing hugs. When the alarm went off that indicated it was time for him to go home, he didn’t even fight me like he usually does, asking to stay for another few minutes. I wanted to cry on the spot.

I let it go for another few days, and officially ended it with him on the following Friday. I guess I was holding on to some glimmer of hope that he would make a complete 180 and change back into the awesome, sweet guy I met a month ago. But people rarely make positive transformations, and I knew deep down that he was a lost cause.

3 thoughts on “At The Rate I Fire Guys, I Should Have Donald Trump’s Ugly Hair Piece

  1. Letting go of people like this is like escaping from a pair of cement shoes during a swim. Rise to the surface and take a deep breath — you’ve just avoided something terrible!

  2. You did the right thing. Those are clear signs that he no longer was into you and his excuses were weak. It sucks when that happens but at least you recognized it and tried to work it out. Sometimes we have to be the brave ones to break it up. Most guys do no communicate well and just like to dance around the issue, like Brad did.

    Buffy King is correct. You’ve dodged the bullet there.

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