Even I am Capable of Being an Asshole

I hope that nobody who reads this will hold it against me--It's simply my attempt to be honest about the mistakes I made in my last short-lived relationship.

Over the last few years, I’ve done a lot of writing about love and dating. To be honest, I’m pretty burned out on writing about love and dating. However, this is something I really want to say, so I’m going to say it and try to keep it brief. I recently found myself making a departure from my usual roll as "the sweet guy who gets his heart broken" and trying out the roll of "the asshole who does the heartbreaking." And having tried it out, I feel confident in saying that "the asshole" is one role I don't plan on reprising.

There were so many times in my past when I said that all I wanted was a woman who was as crazy about me as I was about her that I never considered the possibility that I might find a woman who actually liked me more than I liked her.

Three months ago I met a woman who treated me the way I’ve always wanted a girl to treat me. She found time to hang out with me, no matter how hectic her schedule. She called just to ask how my day was going. She actually seemed to miss me when were apart and acted excited to see me whenever we got together. She even surprised me with a plate of homemade of cookies when I returned from a business trip, even though she hates to cook. And in return I was aloof and fickle and inconsiderate and all the things I’ve hated about most of the girls I’ve dated.

From our first date, it was clear to me that she and I did not share a lot of common interests, goals, or beliefs. But she was such a “neat gal,” as my father would say, that I let things move forward, in the hopes that perhaps time would settle my concerns about our future and help me learn to like her as much as she liked me. That isn’t to say I didn’t like her—I definitely did. In fact, the thing that hurts the most in all of this is that my actions toward the end of the relationship (not calling when I said I would, postponing dates) probably lead her to believe that I liked her less, or at least respected her less, than I actually did.

Last night, after I seriously upset her by postponing a date, she asked if I liked her as much as she liked me. Like a painful lightning bolt of self-awareness, I suddenly realized that I had turned into the type of jerky boyfriend I've always despised. Part of me really wanted to apologize and tell her that I’d try harder to be the boyfriend she deserved, but a bigger part of me knew that my concerns about our future together weren’t getting any smaller, so I told her the truth. I told her that I liked her but didn’t see a future for us. She took it like the strong, classy woman she is. After I walked her to her car and hugged her goodbye, I waved to her as she drove away, like I’d always done before when she left my house. But this time I knew she wouldn’t be coming back.

The plate of cookies she made me is still sitting in my fridge. Every time I see it or even think about it, I have to choke back some tears. It breaks my heart to know that I hurt someone who cared enough about me to endure a task she despised, in an effort to please me. She’s a sweet, attractive, fun woman, and I wish the fates had conspired in a way that didn’t lead to her getting hurt, but I think I made the right decision. There were too many fundamental differences between us for us to have what I would consider a stable foundation for a long-term relationship. But even though it would have never worked in the long term, she really was the best girlfriend I've ever had, and I miss her already.

LJ, thank you for being a better girlfriend than I deserved. I hope that someday you find the boyfriend you deserve. Blue skies.