How to Lose a Guy in 21 Days

October 23, 2023

Every time I actually use the little water filter on my refrigerator (which is rare because I don’t have the patience for it when the water from the tap on my sink comes out so much faster) I make the same mistake. Due to my impatience and inability to stand still, I push the glass up against the button that makes the water come out, and leave the glass on the little ledge and walk away. I tell myself that I can walk over to another part of my kitchen and do some other chore – wipe off the counter, throw something away, fill the puppy’s water bowl or whatever – and then I’ll come back and grab the glass before it is full. Yet, I always walk away to do the other chore and then immediately forget that I left the glass on the ledge until I hear that awful sound of water hitting the floor. I shout at myself “Dammit, Rebecca!” every time this happens, yet I never learn my lesson. I’ve done it twice already today. I was cooking chicken for lunch and then turned around to see a huge puddle under the fridge. I got so exasperated with myself, I just threw a towel down over the puddle and put the glass of water in the sink without drinking a drop. That’ll teach you, you thirsty bitch.

This is such a metaphor for my whole life. I make the same mistake over and over and never learn from it and instead have learned not to trust myself. I’m on the path to dehydration because I can’t trust myself to fix myself a glass of water without making a mess. Just as I can’t be trusted with the simple task of pushing a button and standing still for a few seconds, I can’t trust myself in love and relationships. A few weeks ago, I was working on a project on this blog called “Rebecca’s Love Equation”, where I was going to try to make dating more fun and less stressful. Shortly after I published those posts, I met a man in the wild when I wasn’t even trying. We were at a concert for a Led Zeppelin tribute band and I walked up to him and asked simply “Are you here by yourself?” and it was one of those organic meetings that felt like a great story we could tell at parties one day. He pursued me heavily, and we dated for a few weeks. Friday night I was telling one of my girlfriends that I felt so secure with him and felt so certain that he wasn’t seeing anyone else. I was planning to bring up the subject of exclusively dating with him this week. I was so sure that this was the beginning of something special, I deleted my love equation posts on this blog and all of the dating apps. Then Saturday morning, I got a text. “Hi Rebecca, I’m sorry, I can’t see you anymore, I’ve decided to be exclusive with someone else.”

One text ruined my whole weekend and I’ve been so upset. I can’t figure out if it’s because this guy was so wonderful and I really connected with him – this doesn’t happen often for me – or if I am just devastated because I had the audacity to be hopeful this time. He was treating me the way I wanted to be treated and made me feel happy and comfortable with him. I started allowing myself to be excited. I tricked myself into thinking that the way he treated me was special and that the words he said to me actually meant something. I tricked myself into ignoring all the red flags, justifying some of the things he did, and assuming that a father of two with full-time custody couldn’t possibly make time to date more than one woman at a time. I was wrong about all of it. I tricked myself into thinking a future could be possible with someone, just the way I trick myself into believing that I’ll remember to remove the water glass from the ledge before the cup runneth over. I’ve done this to myself time after time.

I told my friend about this and he said “Why are you all worked up? This guy sounds like a loser.” People love to say things like this when they are on your side and they want you to feel better. But he’s not the loser, I am. No matter how on-my-high-horse I can be about the fact that he led me on and wasn’t honest about his intentions, I’m still the loser. Sure, he had to break the news to me and listen to me angrily responding on the phone for a few seconds. But after that, he got to go hang out with his kids and his new girlfriend. The one he chose over me. The winner. They won and I lost. I have a feeling he didn’t take Benadryl at 3 pm on Saturday to try to fall asleep and feel better. I have a feeling that he didn’t exhaust and exasperate his friends and family by trying to call them and tell them about it. I have a feeling that he had a really lovely weekend while I was here in hell. I’m the loser.

I know I sound like that girl who inspired the shenanigans in “How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days” – you remember, she missed work and was crying into Kate Hudson’s shoulder.

“You only dated the guy a week…“

“It was the best week of my life. *sobs*“

I know it’s ridiculous. I went on a date yesterday and that was also a big mistake. I was trying to run from this disproportionate amount of pain I’m feeling, and thought maybe I’d just go out with someone random from Bumble and we’d hit it off and everything would feel alright. It didn’t work out that way. All I felt was sad and then I felt like a piece of garbage for putting this innocent bystander in the middle of my mess. He was perfectly nice and we split a chicken wrap at the bar, which was the only real meal I had all weekend. I regret wasting his time – I did pick up the check, so I guess he got a free, mediocre meal out of it.

I wish dating were a little more like my job. At work, we get these “Snapshots”, where you work some hours on a project and submit a Snapshot to the team lead. They rate you on a scale of 1 to 5 and then write comments basically saying what you did right and whatever you should do differently or better. Feedback loops like this are never perfect, but there’s not a lot of ambiguity there. If you’re doing well, you’ll know it. If not, you’ll know it. As a team leader myself, giving this feedback is never easy because it can be painful for the person receiving it. But it’s kind of like some of the pain in your body – a lot of times, your body will send you pain signals as a sign that you need to take action. If your head hurts, you might need to drink some water (room temperature water from the kitchen faucet unless you want to make a huge mess). If you accidentally touch a hot stovetop, you feel pain and then you know to get away from the heat. If your knees hurt while running, you might need to change your form or try a different exercise. You get it. I wish pain from dating could be more like that for me. If I’m going to cry and feel this way, how can I take it and learn from it? Can they start filling out an exit survey? What can I do so I can stop being someone’s second choice? Or third choice? Or booty call? I wish I could get some feedback or read an article like “How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days” that doesn’t end with Kate Hudson proclaiming her undying love for Matthew McConaughey. I’m really sorry if I spoiled the ending of that movie for you.

I keep trying to replay how the last few weeks happened so I can make some kind of list of “what not to do”. So far, my list has one bullet – “Stop ignoring red flags”, and even that one is not really actionable because red flags are so subjective. I think there should be a separate “what not to do” list for how to react in the fallout. I need to learn to resist the impulse to sequester myself off from the rest of the world. That “Do Not Disturb” setting on the iPhone is nice but also dangerous, especially if you pair it with a little self medication. You know how I said earlier that I put my glass of water in the sink? I was really thirsty, but my impulse was to punish myself because I was angry over my mistake. Which is exactly what I’ve been doing all weekend – punishing myself for a choice HE made by cancelling fun plans and hiding under my covers. I feel so disappointed and embarrassed because I told my friends about this person, I’ve allowed myself to spiral into this place of deep shame and regret.

The only thing that gives me a little peace is that I was honest and open with this person. I showed him affection that I didn’t know I still had inside of me. Maybe I’m a full blown crazy person who cries over something like this. Maybe I keep making the same mistakes and getting attached to the wrong people. Maybe I’m more like Kate Hudson’s friend than I’d like to admit and I’m making mistakes in dating that cause men to walk away from me. But maybe the right person won’t be bothered by my mistakes and he won’t think I’m crazy. And he damn sure won’t lie to me or keep me around as a backup plan. Maybe you can’t lose the right one because the right one will stay.