At last, the long-awaited sequel to my tinder misadventures!
So I met this guy on tinder. (Never saw that coming, did you?). He talks super sweet. He also says that, if we get together, he won't do anything without first asking permission. I like the sound of that. We meet up for coffee.
Meeting up was, by the way, the only way I could convince him that I wasn't a dude in drag. Apparently someone had met up with him before and he'd been unaware that the other person was also male. Anyways...
So, meet up for coffee, go back to his place for a movie. This seems to be standard behaviour, despite not knowing each other at all. Part of me wanted to message my roommate with his address in case anything happened (this would be called the smart choice), but the other part felt, however accurately or otherwise, that she'd disapprove of my going to his place at all, and I didn't want that judgement, so I sent nothing. (Don't worry, I'm still alive)
We put on Braveheart, as I'd not seen it before. (I still haven't). We got comfy, sort of watching but more getting to know each other. We start making out. He starts asking for a blow job.
Wait, what?
I don't know if you've picked up on this so far in my blog, but I am much more comfortable when the pants stay on. Now, some people may be arguing (incorrectly, in my opinion) that he bought me coffee, so I owe him something. Except he didn't. We met up at the coffee shop, but he'd already ordered when I got there. He asked if I wanted anything, but I'd said no.
And now, here we are, him not asking "is it okay if" but "could you please". I said no, we just met, I barely know you, etc.
He kept asking.
This was not asking permission, this was borderline begging.
I'd like to say that this was the last I heard from him.
I felt highly uncomfortable after this "date" (does it count as a one night stand if you talked online for a few days first, and you didn't have sex the night of? Asking for a friend...)
Little did I know that this was the start of the worst week of my life.
So, that was Monday.
Tuesday I blocked him. I also had a psychiatrist appointment to find out what exactly was going on in my brain (I knew "some sort of anxiety disorder(s)). The appointment was educational, but not exactly pleasant.
Other typical bad-day shit happened. Wednesday was also not great. Thursday I felt I'd been to hasty and maybe I'd given him the wrong impression, so I unblocked him. He was livid that I'd blocked him. I apologized. Whatever. Also, he had this non-competition thing in his head. If we were seeing each other, even if we weren't labelling it or it was only once or something, neither of us would see other people. So we weren't in a relationship, but we were exclusive. So I couldn't break up with him, but I felt like I had to in order to consider anyone else.
I told him life was super-busy right now, and I may not be able to talk much, but if he wanted to, he could send me messages.
Friday.
I went to work, got home, started to hang out with my best friend. Parents called. My dog was moving uncomfortably, she'd probably dislocated something, they were going to take her to the emergency vet clinic (this was around 8pm, so our normal vet was closed). Would I like to come along? Of course I would. She's my dog. I may not have lived with her much in the past few years, but I still come along to every vet appointment and come visit.
Best friend gets his parents to come early to pick him up, but he's still there when mine arrive. I'm freaking out, because that's what I do any time anything is remotely wrong with my dog. He and my roommate try to calm me down, but to no avail.
I get in the car. Choclate (my dog)'s eyes are wild, but she's barely moving. This isn't something dislocated. Parents try to calm me down. Resilient-brain kicks in. I'm not freaking out. This is an emergency situation, I need to think clearly and logically, and do everything I can to comfort my puppy.
We get to the vet clinic and I pick my dog up to carry her in. My dad offered to, but she's my dog.
We sit in an appointment room while the vet takes her to the operating room to figure out what's wrong.
She had a tumour in a place that it's hard to detect. It burst. She was in her last hour. We went back and petted her, trying our best to comfort her as she died. The vet didn't have to put her down; she died within 15min.
Worst fucking night of my life right there.
It's almost two years later and I'm still tearing up writing this.
Now, remember tinder guy? He's been messaging me, but nothing important. Stuff like "what are you up to" or "how's your day going". I briefly told him I'm not up to talking and why. He complains that this is being very one-sided and he feels like I'm not putting any effort into it.
Okay, wow.
First off: I told you I was super busy and I might not be able to talk much.
Secondly: My dog just died.
Thirdly: It's not me, it's you.
And this time, he stayed blocked.
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