On top of that (pun intended), once hooking up was introduced into the equation, I felt like that became the focus. Want to come over a bit early before we go out? A few drinks later and a few happy places later, we were off to our date. He was affectionate, don't get me wrong. We held hands, he put his arm around me, we'd share small kissed in public, but he didn't open the car door for me or restaurant doors for me. WTF?! I thought the French were supposed to have to have set the benchmark for the rest of the world in terms of romancing a woman. Also, when we were out on a date, I felt like it was pretty much just a formality so we could get back to his place and hook up. Not a good feeling, ladies.
He met a few of my friends who were here for SXSW and they both said the same thing: "He's not that into you and you deserve better." Damn my affinity for accents... maybe I would've caught that sooner had he been American. So I invited him out for drinks and apps earlier last week, having no idea how things would end up.
Either I was going to tell him what I expected in a boyfriend and he would realize I'm worth it and buck up and make some changes or he would tell me that I'm asking for more than he can give me right now and that would be it. The tone, although very polite, was set very quickly. He said something to the effect that he "just wasn't quite convinced right in the beginning." And that's when the now pseudo-famous t. rant came out: "Look, I'm the full package and I bring a lot to the table. I'm 31, never been married, no children, I'm well-educated, and attractive. The beginning of a relationship is when things are supposed to be the most electric and the most magnetic. If you're at all hesitant in the beginning, it's not meant to be."
I went on to inform him that, in America, when you're boyfriend-girlfriend (as we had been exclusive for the past month), you don't just go on fancy dates on the weekends (although that is lovely in the beginning in the courtship phase). I told him that, when you want to see someone enough, you make time for them. Simple as that. You just hang out. You run errands. You watch TV. You rent movies. You cook dinner together. It's not the fanciness level that counts. It's the effort to spend time with the (supposed) object of your affection that matters.
So I very sweetly told him I think we should just be friends. I also informed him of the old bit of American wisdom that says it takes half the time you dated someone to get over them. Since we dated for a whopping month, I only have two weeks (and then I'm signing back up for match). But, bless his little French heart, he broke up with a girlfriend of seven years in London before moving here. So, he's still got a ways to go in his 3.5 year recovery period. Maybe I'll blame it on that.
So that's that. Au revoir, Monsieur F.U. And by the way, I never liked the way your beard (and your entire being) always smelled like smoke. And the kissing and all? Never that great. Conundrum: Do I date another Frenchman to see if things get better? No matter what the nationality, meeting someone legit with time to spend and a desire for something of substance would make things a bit more bearable post lay-off.
xo,
t.
