After a painful breakup, I did what many young, heartbroken, and desperate newly single women and men do – I began looking for distractions. Distractions in the form of men. I changed my relationship status, dropped my standards, started wearing makeup again, and expanded my wardrobe to things other than oversized flannels on nights out. The chronicles of these men are embarrassing stories that should remain untold, but here I am telling them:
The first man I began “seeing” after my breakup was Todd. I met Todd in one of my classes at the college I attend. We had never really spoken before, but then one day we were assigned to be on a group project together.
Here comes the crazy
My frail and still very broken heart was searching so desperately for someone to love. My broken-hearted delusional state decided that this must be fate. My mind ran wild, coming up with scenarios and stories, directing a romantic comedy that would star Todd and I.
What a cute story to tell the grandchildren someday, just a week after I moved out of my ex-husband’s house Todd and I were placed in a group together for a class project. A story we would tell the grandchildren, always finishing the story looking at each other with hearts in our eyes and simultaneously saying “We were put in a group together in Psychology class and the rest was history…”
Back to the much less romantic reality
Our conversations eventually made their way past psychology class and Todd asked me to hang out. We were instantly comfortable with one another – like old friends. We bonded over the fact that we had both just gotten out of long-term relationships.
It was nice to have someone who understood what I was going through, someone that I didn’t feel so alone with. So, Todd and I continued our friendship; and even though we both knew we were interested in the other, we kept it awkward and never labeled ourselves as “dating” or “just friends.”
He was the epitome of what you should not date
Todd was an extremely nice and likable guy, but he was also the epitome of what you should not date – or be in a tremultuous, confusing friendship with – because I am still not sure if we dated. He was literally Seth Rogen’s character from any Seth Rogen movie. But this was real life. The real life Seth Rogen.
He was nearly 30, still lived in his mother’s basement and spent his leisure time smoking weed or writing music for his metal band. Todd is the kind of guy that picks his clothes off the floor and smells them to see if they are clean or not.
The kind of guy that does not own cups because he drinks everything straight from the carton. He had been to jail and did not remember a single thing we talked about (too much weed I assume?) but he was a really nice and funny guy. And he was disciplined in one aspect of his life and that was the gym.
So, to summarize all of my feelings for Todd: He had big arm muscles. He was nice. He was funny.
And those 3 qualities were enough for my poor, pitiful heart to want to try to latch onto him. Why else would we have been placed in a group together the week after I moved out of my ex’s house? It couldn’t be coincidental. It couldn’t be that there was a 1 in 4 chance that we would end up in the same group when our small class of 20 was divided into 4 groups of 5. No, that couldn’t be it.
We had this weird and confusing relationship thing for 2 or 3 months
Sometimes we would hang out the entire weekend, spending the majority of our time together telling Todd stories that I had already told him before or trying to explain general Psychology to him. We would go to eat or to the movies – normal date stuff.
Then, sometimes we would not talk for a week straight. The only way I can accurately sum up the relationship is ‘it was just whatever.’ Todd was never introduced to my family because the thought made me want to cringe. I don’t know if it was because I knew he would reek of weed or because I thought they may google his name and see his prison record.
Or, because he just was not the type suitable for parental meetings. Deep down I knew he wasn’t right. He was not right at all – he was comically wrong. But on the surface, I was desperate to love someone. I had loved someone else for 4 years – I needed someone else to project that onto.
So, I kept trying to date, or whatever it was, Todd until the night he kissed me. It was a weird friendship thing up to this point. Kind of flirty at times, kind of sibling like at others. The kiss was weird and borderline incestual. And so I reacted how any sane woman would by bawling my eyes out.
The first and last kiss
I don’t know if it was because I was uncomfortable or because he was the first man I had kissed since my ex. Maybe it was because the kiss was so bad. I still do not know why I cried, but I did. And I cried well. Todd’s romantic gesture resulted in him consoling me for nearly an hour while I balled and spoke in gibberish about my past relationship.
Once, I was finished crying I came home, and Todd and I never hung out again. We stayed in distant touch for awhile – never bringing up the awful, awkward crying session, But I feel like staying in touch with me was more of a pity thing because he thought I was wavering on the brink of crazy.
Healing a broken heart can make you do crazy, irrational things. And the stories only become increasingly more awkward as the trilogy that is 90 Days of Men continues.
Until next time,
The girl that cried when a hot guy kissed her.