Dude. I got a text from a number I didn’t recognize. I read the first few words–“I still love you so much Julia” and I thought, goddamit, it must be James trying to reach me again with a different number. I’d gotten fed up with James sending me romantically gratuitous emails and messages that had less to do with me and everything to do with him, making me feel like an object being masturbated on by a raging narcissist. I’ve been consistent about being only friendly and not wanting anything romantic, but he just kept pushing and pushing, sending me messages like “I love you more than you love me so you’ll always have the upper hand” and how he canceled a date because I “spoiled” him. Then I didn’t respond to some of his messages because I really felt like these romantic ideas he was putting on me felt like someone just using me to jack off and I was getting really irritated. So he sends me this long email that basically said, “My life sucked until I met you. Please fix it. kthanxbai!”
I didn’t respond to that and he sent me a message in the middle of the night saying he’s got insomnia and hasn’t been able to sleep in 36 hours (implying that I was torturing him). This guy wanted plenty from me, yet acted like he didn’t want anything because everything he was doing was for my own good (which was ridiculous since he offered me nothing that was actually real), yet perpetually created drama where there wasn’t any just to play out some reality that only existed in his head; I just didn’t have time for it.
After more messages the next night, I responded saying that if he respected me like he claimed, he would stop messaging me. And that I wouldn’t be opening any more messages. He called me right away, which I let go to voicemail and deleted without listening, and he messaged me about how the “other Julia” enjoyed talking to him and to tell her to get in touch with him when she came back. What a fucking douche. He loved talking about how much he respected me, yet his actions were consistently disrespectful.
So I got the text from a number I didn’t recognize, and I read the first line and got irritated right away thinking it was James. But then I read the whole thing and got to the name at the end–David. Two years of no contact. He never even bothered trying to call me when things ended. Just let it slip through his fingers, playing the same martyr whose life seems to continually victimize him. After all that misery, where a part of me nearly lost its life before I realized I had to detach it like a lizard’s tail and move on, after two years of silence, two years of examining and reworking my life to make sure I never let anything like that relationship ever happen again, now he wants another chance to show me that he can make me happy.
I’m all for 2nd chances in life. I’m sure he’ll find someone who will take what he gives and appreciate it. But I’m not opening the door for him again. There are billions of men in this world. Why would I go back to one whom my most prevailing thought towards is how grateful I am that I got away?