worse than me...
a short series by Jim Holmes
I know of nothing better than catching someone with your words. The joy of letting someone know exactly what you think of them—my idea of heaven. This joy must be reserved for select times and select purposes; otherwise, you might lose all your friends. There are, however, those moments when someone needs to know exactly what kind of person he or she is. We’d been dating roughly a month. Nothing too serious, but it felt it could be leading that way: dinners and movies, long talks—the usual stuff. He made me laugh; I gave him things to laugh about. We were having fun until he suddenly stopped answering when I called, and when he did call back would only say he was really busy with school and work. I guess it was believable. The weekend came and I hoped for some time with him. When he finally returned my call, he informed me he’d declared it study night. Slightly pissed and refusing to stay in (even though that’s what I told him I was doing in hopes he’d invite me over), I called up one of my friends and headed over to his house. The night went well, and I had fun. There were a lot of people over, which kept my mind occupied. A few times I’d discuss the situation with people I thought might care, but the most I got was a hug or pat on the arm, and the much overused, “It’ll be okay. You’re probably just reading too much into things.” Around 1 a.m., things got interesting. He walked in. I heard his voice first and got excited. Maybe someone had called him, told him I was there, and he had come to see me. I ran into the hallway to see him and caught him holding another guy’s hand! Let me create our conversation for you: Me: “What the hell?” Him (stunned, scared, pissing himself): “Hey, I…uh…thought you said you were staying in tonight.” Me: “I could say the same of you. Who’s your friend?” Him: “This is…uh…” Me: “The reason you don’t answer my calls? Well, let me introduce myself.” I reached to shake the other guy’s hand. “I’m his boyfriend.” The poor guy looked terrified (both of them). A nice crowd was forming, and my anger was rising to the point of explosion. I really can’t remember the exact things I said to him, but I’ll try my best. Him: “I’m sorry. I was going to tell you. I’ve been…” Me: “Busy? I know, and now I know why. Are you that afraid to be honest? Honestly, one call is all it would have taken. An, ‘I just don’t see things going any further.’ I would respect you for that. But having to find out by seeing you show up with him? You are such a worthless person right now, and I feel sorry for anyone who dates you.” I turn toward the new guy. “I hope you know you’ll only be around until he finds someone worse than you.” I felt bad saying that, but at that moment I didn’t want to think he had found someone better than me. I didn’t give them time to respond. I walked into the bathroom and threw some water on my face. I came back out after someone told me they were gone. After the first five people I saw told me how sorry they were and offered their condolences, I felt sick and decided to head home to sleep it off. I got over it, like everyone does. Like I said, we weren’t anything serious to begin with. We had our time together and moved on. I still have to say though, that the best moment of the whole relationship was the time I told him off in front of everyone. He deserved it.
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