Not a Bench Warmer

I initially started a post about how I had sent yet another long-ass diatribe about what I wanted and didn’t want to L. Because I did. 

As if I hadn’t already made that clear to him in the first long-ass diatribe. 

The problem is that I wasn’t really getting it. You see, I am smart, but being smart doesn’t mean that I’m not dumb. 

He told me that he was looking for convenience. Initially, I thought, “Let me show you how convenient I can be!” 

And, because I am Leslie Knope, I wrote a very lengthy screed detailing just how low key I am. I laid out what I wanted as “giving a shit.” Giving a shit means: seeing each other once a week, listening to me, exclusivity, and making me feel special on my birthday. I said I didn’t need a lot of communication (*cough*), I didn’t want to hang out all the time, I didn’t want to be one of many options, and I didn’t want to be taken care of. 

I pointed out how I considered being with me – a sure thing – was considerably less work than having to woo a bunch of different women. Plus I am so super convenient! Look at how not needy I am in the midst of my pathetic/desperate attempt to argue why I am worthy of being a girlfriend. 

I failed to really understand what he was telling me. 

It didn’t matter how convenient I was or could be. That’s not what he was telling me he needed. 

He needs to be able to turn “giving a shit” on and off. He would not be able to commit to even once a week. He needs someone for his bench who he can call up when he feels like it. 

I need someone who is willing to give a shit – even minimally – on a regular basis. I am not suited to be a bench warmer. 

DING DING DING DING DING DING DING

It’s not that I wasn’t being clear or that he had a misunderstanding of what dating me entailed. It’s that I wasn’t understanding him. And he was incredibly patient with me given this lack of understanding. Jesus. I don’t think I would have been as patient. 

I told him I got it. I apologized for taking so long and thanked him for his kindness. Then I wished him luck and told him I hope he grows to like Ohio. 

Still, I consider it over. I can move on now. 

—–

ETA:

He texted this morning to say thank you. He also apologized for being selfish. 

I asked him what “date meaningfully” meant to him. This was his response:

It’s not about the objective metrics. It’s not about “how often” or how “datelike.” It’s about how I feel. I’m not in a place where I want to develop that emotional bond. So even if we saw each other monogamously and consistently, I’m liable to say, “ok-I’m done here. Thanks.” And if she disappeared at any point, I would be just fine. No mourning. 

I replied that it makes sense. I’m glad I asked because that would have been so much more painful in the long run. 

And that’s it.