In the late ’80s, my cute boyfriend (i’ll call him Travis) began hinting on Thanksgiving about the gift he was planting to give me for Christmas. He hinted that it was something so special I would be totally blown away.
He encouraged me to ask him questions about what I thought it was, and he leaned heavily toward any suggestion that it might be an engagement ring. I actually didn’t know how I felt about that at that point. But hey! When somebody loves you enough to propose, it feels good at least on the surface.
On and on he went; giving me hint after hint. (At this moment I can’t remember what some of them were and, since I destroyed the diary I’d kept for about 10 years in those days, I doubt that I will ever remember them again.)
One can only imagine the masterpiece of anticipation he had artfully, carefully created to ensure I was completely emotionally invested in the surprise.
Finally, it came time to exchange gifts. I was absolutely stunned. I just looked at him and never once let him think I was disappointed. And I wasn’t disappointed. I was just unable to compute the buildup with the actual gift.
It was a cheap picture of a piano with a rose on it. I could have bought it at Goodwill for a quarter.
I didn’t break up with him, but something changed that, over a short period of time, honesty and a hard reality check kicked in. He was very little of what I wanted and a lot of what I never wanted again.
When I broke up with him, I took the blame (which I always did when I ended relationships). I couldn’t hurt somebody else, so I just said what most people say, “It’s not you. It’s me.”
Two weeks later, the friend who had introduced us told me he was engaged. I heard he got married very soon after that. My emotional reaction was nothing more and nothing less than complete hilarity. Not sadness, not real happiness for him, just nothing meaningful.
I guess, if I could describe any feeling, it would be relief. I knew I had dodged a bullet.
I think of how broken I was in those days, and I’m so grateful that so much inside me has healed since then.
Today, I would never have dated him more than one time in the first place. I wouldn’t have been attracted to someone badly pretending to carry dark secrets about his law enforcement job that no one else could ever know because they were just too heavy. 🙄
He’s also the second pathological liar I’d ever dated. He talked about having a steel plate from vietnam. I found out from his friend who were my friends also that that wasn’t true. He told me all kinds of stories that I learned were not true. I don’t understand that kind of personality where one will lie just for the sake of a story that’s not true. But! That’s what makes me different. I never cheated playing games because to me it would be such a hollow victory knowing I didn’t really win it wasn’t worth it to me.
