Written last night...
She called again this evening, saying she's coming back to town Friday instead of Wednesday and then flying out on Monday.
The conversation evolved and she seemed quite surprised that I would not be staying in her booked hotel this weekend (she'd gotten a suite for three days - quite sweet, she wanted to cook for me), nor would I allow her to come to the art workshop with me Sat and Sun. She asked if I canceled the workshop already. Although I actually knew that it was a complete loss, I said I had not called them yet. I said that maybe I'll try to get Norma to go or that I'd try to exchange it for a credit. Or I'd take the loss if I had to. (But I will be there regardless.) She seemed rather shocked, then resigning herself said that maybe she'd change her flight to Friday instead.
It's not like I really cared.
She began in on wondering if I ever cared about her, how she thought we were in it for the long haul. She complained of wearing her heart on her sleeve. I said that she moved much more quickly than I; things go much more slowly for me. I gather information, gather information, until I realize something will or won't work. I can't know that at the outset; I give people a chance. It is theirs to mess it up. I mentioned that at other dating sites, my profile actually states that I'll go out with someone for a month before I realize whether I want to go out with them at all. I do not make snap judgments.
She practices what she calls "mental maso.chism" and beats herself up. I tried to give validity to what we had when we had it and reminded her that I said to take it one day at a time. I believe that she had convinced herself that I loved her, although I never said such a thing and insisted that she not tell me that, to please substitute the word "adore." I'll admit being fond of her phone personae, but I couldn't tolerate her in public.
I expanded more upon the latter; in addition to finally telling her that even J called her obnoxious, I gave her a quick example. We were sitting on the back bench of a hotel-type van going up the hill at Monti.cello. She had an empty soda bottle and was banging it hard against her leg. It echoed throughout the little van. Like many times those days, I gave her a questioning look, not understanding her purpose beyond calling attention to herself, but I opted to not tell her to stop, figuring she's an adult, although she acts like a child. There was an older man sitting right in front of her. As we exited the van behind him, he asked the driver what his parting instructions had been (something simple like the van meets here to go back down), the old man saying he could hear because of "them" in the seat behind him. (It was very difficult being associated with her in these situations.) We got off the van and the old man referenced it again within earshot. Lyd went off to me, that the man had said anything within earshot of her, that he had no right to complain about her. She was quite agitated, the silverback gorilla. Like any behavior I do not appreciate, I ignored her and didn't encourage her. We'd been with her at the waterpark the day before (and the ghost tour the day before) and I knew how obnoxious she could be in public.
So I gave her this example of something she didn't need to do. And the man paid his money and deserved everything associated with the tour. (Of course, Lyd had not paid her part and maybe she didn't see it through the man's eyes, or mine either.) There was no reason for the bottle and there was no reason for her to act aggressively when the man tried to politely get his due. He laid blame where it was due, as well, except he mistakenly included J and I by association.
So finally after these things and more, she said she would be changing her flight plans to Friday. I had told her I could meet with her on Friday, per her insistence. She wanted to give me some money and later revealed that she wanted to return to me the perfume (my regular scent, had been discontinued, so I have to find it on ebay - although I don't want it back b/c I'd got two) that I'd sent to her. Earlier, before I expanded about the van, I'd told her that the money I'd spend wasn't the issue; my concern was forking it out for the next two or more weeks. And I made certain to remind her again that the money wasn't the reason I broke it off; it was the discrepancy between how she treated me in private/on the phone and how she treated others in public/in the chatroom. Finances were not the cause; her behavior was.
I feel like the world's mother sometimes.
When she began to look up flights on Friday, I begged off the phone. I didn't want to listen to it. She was wrong for paying to bump her flight up to Monday without talking to me. She should have done it for Friday. I would have told her so. [Turns out, she changed it to Saturday.]
As it stands, I don't think I'll see her on Friday and I do not care about the money. I told her I have to be here at 4:30ish to get J to his stepmother. I can only do things around that. Right now, it appears I won't have to do anything. Who knows about the party Friday night. I may miss that, too. The hostess has turned into quite the rebound slut since breaking it off with psychotic DUI boy. She's hooking up with men from the chat room right and left. She's cute with "perfect boobs" (her words) she shows off in chat and awful teeth (my words) not picked up on the cam and I have become quite tired of hearing about how each man/couple wants her... and how often she gives it.
I do not understand how others life their lives. I am glad I read your blogs. You lend me a sense of normalcy. Yesterday, I commended Norma for her character, how I appreciate having someone with standards in my life. I appreciate you people, too.
Back to today, she's sent me a couple mails. The one this morning was poignant and it seems a lot has sunk in, to the point of her understanding a bit, with less melancholy. I think she expected more absolute acceptance by me - I did tell her in the past that I accepted her, but I accepted the phone her, not the crazed in person her, although she thinks they are the same. She wrote, "i am a sch.ool girl....still lear.ning how to be soc.ialized." Actually, I think she wants to buck society for the attention; it's not fun being around the idiot who others wonder is mentally challenged or unstable. No reasonable adult would expect a school.girl version of a 33yo woman. And no 33yo woman should be a bad influence on a kid and think that any parent would accept that.
Her last line did it for me, as was her intention. I realize that I am simultaneously Charlotte and Samantha; I state clearly here that I am an oxymoron. I don't want to get dirty unless someone has some class first. I expect proper behavior and respect, decorum, manners. People have joked that I am a closet perv and that is the case; I am a different person when the bedroom doors are closed. She wrote: "certa.inly hope you find a per.son who fits your puz.zle, babe" and I figure she is referring to these things; perhaps she doesn't understand what a good mother does in protecting her child from the heathens of the world.
I think she is also inferring that my personal puzzle is particularly difficult. However, I think we all have puzzles. I think some people are more willing to compromise on their standards/ideals/desires to where any ol' puzzle piece fits. To some people like Lyd, warm and breathing are enough. I'm willing to try different puzzle pieces and jimmy with them a bit, but if they don't fit, they don't fit. The process takes a little time, though.
If I have learned anything since my divorce, it's that I cannot settle.
I think I need a man who plays tennis. He's both classy and dirty. If only Roger Federer were available.