A Dick Move on My Part

Hey Darling Ones,

Did I ever tell you about the time back in aught-something when I ghosted a man I had been seeing for months on Valentine’s Day? Of course I didn’t because that awful woman ruined the sharing of romantic entanglements for the lot of you.

Ghosting someone after Valentine’s Day is a dick move. I am not proud of it even though I had good reasons for ending the relationship. In hindsight I should have handled it better in the moment.

I can’t remember how many months I had been seeing this guy by the time Valentine’s Day rolled around. Six? Five? Nine? It was a lot of months, especially because when it comes to romantic relationships I’m ol’ Jodi Fortnight. I can’t remember the exact reasons why, but I made it very clear to the dude that I did not want to celebrate or recognize Valentine’s Day in any way, shape, or form. No flowers. No candy. No dinner. No hanky panky. In fact, I’m pretty sure we didn’t even have plans to see each other that entire week. It must have been one of those years where I was anti V-Day. Sometimes I’m very pro V-Day. It all depends on my fickle moods.

So imagine my surprise when dude shows up at my place of employment with flowers, candy, and a stuffed animal. Did I say surprise? I mean my utter fury.

I remember walking with my friend Gage from the lobby to my desk. He was helping me carry all the crap.

“Is that your boyfriend?” Gage asked in a sing-songy, grade-school voice.
“Not anymore,” I said.

The guy had made a habit of crossing boundaries I put up. And there were a lot because I have a defensive fortress around my heart. Still, he was one of those guys who would show up where he was not invited. First Ave shows. Bars. Etc. I frequently gave him a pass because I knew he was really into me, but come to my work was not cool. So I just stopped. Shitty. So shitty of me.

The dude forgave me somewhat because we hooked up a few times after the ghosting. So it was only a semi-ghosting, I guess? The first time we slept together after the ghosting he was all, “It was Valentine’s Day, wasn’t it? I knew that was a bad idea.”

A couple years ago when I was re-doing my dining room Sister #2 found that stuffed animal in a box of toys the niblings used to play with when they were little. I was debating on whether to keep all the toys, some of the toys, or whatnot because they reminded me of the nibs.
“This is cute,” she said, turning the monkey around in her hands. “You should keep it.”
“I got that for Valentine’s Day from a guy and then I dumped him.”
“Donate,” she said, tossing it into the box and shaking her head in disgust.

For Valentine’s Day, Darling Ones, I made you another mix tape (I even figured out how to make YouTube playlist, special for you). Last year’s was Paul Westerberg’s 13 Best Songs of Love & Longing. My plan was to tell you about these songs, how if I had the courage I would send this mix to all my crushes personally, but I am a coward and so am sending it to them generally through this post. I was gonna tell you why I love “Bittersweetheart” by Soul Asylum so much.

But this other story popped out instead.

Hauntingly yours,

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