The First Cut is the Deepest.

And so, the moment arrived.

After months of dreading seeing him, I was suddenly face to face with the person I will refer to as - hmm... umm... something clever - DD (if you already know this story, you'll know why). Thankfully, in this case, I have been blessed with the kissing disease, and found myself out of work for ten weeks. This, my faithful (and new) followers is why you don't date someone that is in any way connected to your work environment.

Man... I should have learned that lesson a long time ago. Maybe, like, let's say 3 1/2 years ago when I first dated a coworker.

I can't say I had played out the interaction in my head because I honestly thought I'd find some way of avoiding him. He waited approximately two months from the last time I had seen him to return to the restaurant I manage. At least he had the courtesy to give me that much breathing room. However, due to mono, I wasn't there at that time. Or about three weeks later when he returned again. And if you go back in time, tracking the symptoms of what later became a positive on a test for mononucleosis, DD is the culprit in that crime as well as the one of truly and deeply hurting my feelings.

If you're reading my new blog, there's a very good chance that you know the whole story, and I won't go back through the short saga and continue to upset myself. The simplest way of putting it is that DD is an asshole. An asshole that only knew how to apologize because a certain girl - me - called him on his dimwitted ways. I still find myself wondering how he'd feel if someone treated his two sisters the way he treated me... or how his mother probably thinks she's got a nice, Jewish boy for a son. All Jewish mothers think their sons are catches. Funny, because the three that I've gone out with more than two times have all been seriously lacking in the intelligence and maturity categories.

Once I was informed that we were again in the same place at the same time, I'd be lying if I said my heart didn't start racing. I didn't want to look at him, and I didn't want to admit to myself that I still find him incredibly attractive. Because, well, I do. As much as I dislike the person he is, I can't deny that he is certainly good looking. I was the one that was drawn to him in the first place. Forced with the unavoidable moment of seeing him, I managed to keep my head in conversation with someone and my eyes on my phone. A simple hello was enough to aggravate me. Did he have to add the "It's good to see you"? I tried to ignore that part even though he lingered beside me as if he was looking for a conversation. No, DD, I don't want to talk to you. I don't want you to know that I've continued to be upset many nights since you didn't bother to contact me. I don't want you to think of me as a lesson in learning how to deal with women you date. Unfortunately, I think that's what I've been.

My dating experience is limited, but I've witnessed many relationships, and I've learned enough through simple human interaction to know what behavior is appropriate and/or expected of a person in a social situation, be it private or public, between two people alone or a large group of friends. DD apparently missed those lessons. He lacked the communication skills that didn't involve selling himself to me by outlining the luxuries he's received as part of (what seems like) a wealthy family. And, like I said before, he only knew well enough to apologize because I felt it necessary to explain how much he hurt me. The rapid fire of text messages that followed the morning after I told him how I felt didn't mean anything. He said he was sorry because he got caught being in the wrong.

Going back a few guys, one person I dated said to me, "No matter what happens with this relationship, I know I'll have learned a lot from you." Why am I that girl? Why am I the one that teaches the lesson? I'm sorry, but maybe I'd like to be found by someone who has already gone through these things and already learned what it takes to be a good guy for a good girl. I am not desperate, but I'm looking, and I am tired of needing to be the one that calls, the one that plans, the one that texts...

And you know what, every time I say I won't do it, and I do. Next time, really, someone take the phone from me. Maybe I need to learn my own lesson here.

Stop finding guys that are:
1. Too young (laugh, go ahead...)
2. Too immature (do they exist?)
3. Too broken (oh, he was all three...)
4. Too ____________ (fill-in-the-blank)

"I would have given you all of my heart. But there's someone who's torn it apart."