On “those crazy ones”

I never really understood that “crazy” feeling at the end of a relationship. I had a friend, Tracy, in law school and she was a little crazy when she and her boyfriend broke up. I never got the details, but I shook my head whenever she was being a little crazy. Like the time she started crying in the middle of a bar because he hadn’t said hi to her… or when she smashed her phone into his face when he was talking to someone else, or when she would just start screaming at him in public. I just never really understood why she would behave like a “crazy” person… but I’d simply walk away. I just didn’t understand.

My friend Connie, she went off the deep end after she met Daniel. After they broke up, she flew half way across the US to scream at him in an airport, throw some things in his face, and cry on the phone with me for endless hours. It all seemed SO excessive… and frankly, crazy. I just didn’t understand what would ever push a person to be so angry and irrational.

And, I judged my friends for their inability to control their emotions and impulses. I judged all the women I met that behaved like that – the off kilter, emotional, hanging up the phone mid-sentence “insane” behavior… because I just didn’t understand.

But then I met Dylan, and by the time I was done with him – I finally understood why those women I used to judged behaved like that. Because, by the end, I wanted to get fucking crazy on him to prove he messed with the WRONG girl, and to teach him a lesson about treating women like crap. You don’t get to treat me like THAT and get away with it!

It’s not the women that are crazy – it’s the way the women are treated that make them react in such a violent, explosive manner. Being treated like crap makes you a little crazy.

So, I met Dylan on Tinder… he and I both had gotten out of fairly serious relationships. I was seriously unhappy, and I was swiping my little fingers off in hopes of filling the hole in my heart (even though I knew I was still in love with my ex). He was immediately enamored with me – calling to talk, asking to meet right away, and texting me. Then suddenly – he texted that he was back with his ex. And I understood… because I was still harboring hope for me and my ex. I wished him the best.

A couple weeks later, Dylan called me again – telling me that he was finally done with his ex, and he was sorry but he had been thinking about me. So, we made plans to meet one day after work… we hadn’t decided on a place to meet – just a time. But, a couple hours beforehand, he wasn’t answering my calls or texts… so I went home, annoyed that I had been effectively screwed with.

Another couple weeks later, Dylan called me again…. apologizing for messing with me, but telling me he really was sorry and he hoped we could be friends. He told me this incredulous story about his ex changing the passwords on his phone, deleting my messages, and deleting his facebook account. I gave him the benefit of the doubt – told him I understood, and yes… we could be friends.

On and off again texts for several weeks, before Dylan called to tell me that he wanted to meet me. He was driving towards my neighborhood and wanted to finally meet. I agreed, mostly because I was curious and because he seemed like he really needed a friend and I wanted to be a friend. We sat and talked for hours – great conversation, laughs, and made plans to see each other again soon. We spoke almost every day for a couple weeks.

He told me about his job, the things he wanted to accomplish, about all of the things he was busy with… but every time I brought up seeing each other again – he would say he was really busy with his new job. He promised he wasn’t blowing me off – just busy, and he didn’t want me to drive to see him… he was a gentleman and he wanted to come to me. It was cute.

We spoke on a Friday, a few days later, – he was telling me about his week, and how he was a little stressed out. He mentioned that his ex was finally moving out of his apartment. My stomach was in knots as I asked – and he told me that they had broken up the very day we first met. I felt like I had been betrayed because he had made it seem like they had broken up much earlier and he had spent time getting over her. We had been talking for a couple weeks while he was still living with his ex… in a one bedroom condo.

We talked about seeing each other during the next week, and he asked if I wanted to be with him and if I was sexually attracted to him. I candidly answered that I was interested in him, but was a little confused because of the timing of his break up and our meeting. I told him that I felt he really needed to be single for a while before we explored the possibility of a more serious relationship between us. I explained that I didn’t want to be a rebound, I wanted a true relationship built on trust and friendship. I asked how he felt about me…. what he wanted…. and how he planned to get over his ex and move forward. He told me he was swamped, but promised to talk about his feelings with me the next day. He told me he wanted to see me again soon, and he couldn’t wait until we spent more time together in person.

Dylan called me at 3:00am, ostensibly to continue our conversation, but I was fast asleep. He was busy the next day, and the next, and the next – with only time to text short messages promising to talk with me soon. It continued for a week, before he stopped answering or calling or contacting me. I thought maybe he was busy… but simply stopped trying to reach out. I was tired from this back and forth and nonsense.

After three days of silence, I received the text, “I hope you’re not mad at me.” To which I replied, “Of course not… how are you?” and Dylan proceeded to text me “Good, I just wanted to let you know that I’m dating someone now, and I’m not sure how this affects our relationship.”

I beg your FUCKING pardon?!

He continued, “Well, I thought it was going to be an easy break up with my ex, because you and I were getting along – but after you basically rejected me last week it wasn’t so simple. So I met someone else, and I’m with her now.”

Dylan, then, called and tried to make me understand how him dating someone else was MY fault. He didn’t understand why my feelings were hurt. I tried to explain, telling him that I felt like he had been playing me the whole time and been inconsiderate to my feelings – especially since he insisted that he wanted a relationship with me. I felt misled.

And then Dylan said, “You’re being selfish. I’ve been going through a tough time, so you should understand. Your feelings aren’t at issue here. I just went through a terrible breakup. You should be more understanding. Stop talking AT me! You’re being crazy. You fucked me up”

And with that – every single rational, reasonable fiber of my being exploded into a bright red RAGE. I wanted to scream and shout, and punch him in the fucking face. Instead – I said “You fucked up. Don’t talk to me again” and hung up.

Because…. why did I screw up?! I tried to be supportive and understanding the entire time. I didn’t get angry when he stood me up. I didn’t hold a grudge when he was too busy to hang out. I tried to understand and be cool…. and no matter how cool, rational, and nice I was… he tried to convince me everything was my fault. When he deceived me about when he broke up with his girlfriend, that he was still living with her while we were talking…. I’m fairly certain he lied about everything – and I’m fairly certain he tried to cheat on his girlfriend with me. I don’t even know if they actually ever broke up. And, NONE of this was ever my fault. His fucked up relationship and how he treated me? NOT MY FAULT. I refuse to let him bully me into feeling like this was my fault. It is NOT MY FAULT.

So… I’ve managed to calm down in the several days since this blew up in my face – but I have to say… I finally understand. Those women? Not crazy…. they just acted crazy because of the way they were treated. I never understood… but I do now, because after dealing with Dylan and his psychotic behavior and feeling like I had been treated like crap…. I wanted to do every single thing those women did, plus some. The urge to burn down someone’s house has never been such a delicious temptation.

Moral? Those crazy ones you see being irrational, erratic, and a little nuts? It might not be their fault… It might just be that someone treated them SO poorly, they just can’t control themselves. Because, god knows, it took every single ounce of strength for me not to go absolutely apeshit on Dylan.

And yes, Dylan, if you are reading this? FUCK YOU! and no, I will not delete this post (be glad I didn’t tag your entire stupid hyphenated name in this post) and if we ever run into each other? Yes, I will fucking embarrass the shit out of you, you spineless fucking waste of space.

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