Disappearing Act

Gym and I are going steady again. The last time Gym and I were together, I lost almost twenty pounds -- here's hoping. 

I believe Great Date Guy has disappeared into the ether, never to return. Erin says "Be patient." My mom says, "Be patient." That infernal book says, "He's just not that into you." 

You'd think with the sheer number of dates I have been on in my lifetime that I would have this game nailed down to a science, but the disappearing act still baffles me.

When I was in my early twenties I had a crush on a friend of someone I waited tables with. He was tall, dark skin and hair, big chunky glasses -- an EMT. I thought he was dreamy. When he asked for my number I nearly looked behind me to be sure he was actually talking to me.

The day of our date he drove to Brooklyn, and we talked and drank away an entire sunny afternoon long into the evening. When night came I let him stay. I thought it was too soon to have sex with him, but I liked him and let him talk me into it. 

Then he got up and left, and drove all the way back to Jersey in the middle of the night.

For a month I swore to my friend, Laura, that he would call. I remember lying on Brighton Beach with her, so pissed that she kept telling me he wouldn't. She was right, of course; I never heard from him again.

All I remember about that day is him musing about what our children would look like and that I had sex with him even though I didn't want to. And for a long time I blamed his disappearance on me putting out too early. How else could a man who liked me -- who talked about our children -- just abandon me without a trace?

The answer is he never liked me to begin with. The answer is he manipulated me. He tricked me and used me, and not just for sex. Sex is too easy to come by for a man to put that much time and effort into a single mediocre lay. Men like that enjoy the thrill of manipulation way more than a mere orgasm. He got off on completely duping me, and I'm probably not the first, nor was I the last.

That guy is why I have a hard time believing when a man says he likes me. It is what I grapple with every time a man doesn't call or waits too long to text. It's what keeps me up at night wondering if all my perfect moments are lies, just like that one was, just like those few with GDGuy will probably turn out to be. 

Even good men say things they don't mean, and disappear to avoid saying hard truths, and no matter what they say, it isn't to avoid hurting a woman's feelings; it's to shield their own.