Precious Gems from my Past

by admin on April 6, 2011

Today is a lucky day for us, indeed. I was cleaning out my inbox and came across some gems from a guy I “dated” for, um, 10 days. We met online so I didn’t completely know what I was getting into (hint: deep shit and/or a shallow grave). The first time I met him, he seemed normal enough. He was funny. He seemed intelligent. He was of the caliber that would call for a second meeting. Game on.

This will come in handy for all the bullshit.

Date 2 was when the crazy started to pour out. It poured out the same way Niagara Falls pours out into Lake Ontario: with deadly force. We prematurely shared a kiss. Then he began to tell me about his life. You know, typical things like how he had a daughter who was heir to the Scott Tissue fortune. How lucky! Less lucky was the fact that he was dying of a heart disease (his heart was too big). Yup, only two years left to live. Frowny tiemz. This is when I began to suspect that perhaps he wasn’t as normal as I first thought.

I distanced myself for a few days. Then he called. I was willing to give it one last chance – maybe I had overestimated the crazy.




He told me he loved me. My skin crawled. Comparable feeling: being locked in a room  in the dark. With snakes. And Richard Simmons audio on repeat. I made some excuse to get the hell out of there and deleted his number from my phone. He, apparently, did not do the same because I received several calls and voicemails over the following days. In one, he was crying and asking me why I couldn’t just talk to him again. Then the texts came.

I got into a car accident.

I was trying to text you that I love you.


Bullets plz. I was legitimately terrified at this point. This guy was clearly unhinged and I somehow managed to knock a few more screws loose. #DatingFail

You would think it would end after this but it does not. His “friend” Rosa sent me a message via Facebook. Among the few key parts


that I would like to point out is “I did become a father.” Weird, Rosa. Last I checked, only men can be fathers. Or did someone accidentally slip back into first-person midway through their make-believe message. Crikey. Also, he also sold his ‘gold medal’ to buy me a plane ticket so that I could see the ocean. Gold medal from what, you ask? Being a Kung Fu World Champion. #DUH #WINNING

I received one more voicemail from the Karate Kid. He told me he understood where I was coming from and asked if he could at least take me to his cabin for the weekend so we could mend our friendship. Um wut. Did you just invite me to an isolated area to stay with you for an entire weekend? Sure! I’d be happy to disregard the chainsaw and tarp in your trunk. I hope it is obvious that I did not respond to that voicemail. Finally, the shenanigans were over.

LOL, j/k.

Soon after, I received a closure email (sidenote: Apparently closure emails come in a 3-part series). A highlight:

You are the last woman I will ever kiss. I am happy that I found you… and that is all that I need.

You have a hundred years ahead of you… go out there… and be great… I will be watching… just not standing next to you… just looking down.

Looking down! Because he only had two years left to live! Unfortunately, those two precious years were cut short when he took his own life three months after we last spoke, or so said Rosa in a Facebook message. Which is the strangest thing, because when I started dating someone else three months after that, HE sent me a Facebook message saying “Boyfriend, huh? Are you going to mess with his head like you did mine?” Oh, I could only hope to be so lucky.

Before I get berated for making fun of the “dying,” I would like to point out that this all happened four years ago and since I am vaguely familiar with the interwebs and this crazy new thing called Google, I was able to do a simple search and discover that he is, indeed, alive and kicking. And since he loved to blog publicly about all his subsequent “lovers,” I was able to follow along with the never-ending stalkerdom. Moral of the story: (Almost) everyone I meet is total. Fucking. Batshit.

Also, Use it.

{ 1 comment… read it below or add one }

Its Britney Bitch April 6, 2011 at 7:29 pm

true story, black widow.

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