Call Me Shaniqua Jackson

Back in October, I wrote about a blind date I went on with my coworker's cousin. (You can read that story here) We attended a Murder Mystery Dinner, and unfortunately, my night wasn't quite as enjoyable as I would have hoped. While on the date, I met my coworker's brother who we will call Tyrone. I didn't talk to him much that night, and since he was dressed like a mechanic from the 20s, I never actually saw what he looked like. However, when I got to work the next week, my coworker informed me that Tyrone thought I was cute and wanted to ask me out. I didn't have any objections, so I told her she could give him my number.

A few weeks later, Tyrone called me and asked me out. That weekend we went to dinner, bowling, and croqueting (is that even a word?). Let me just say, I have NEVER been treated better on a date. Every door was opened for me, we went to a really nice restaurant, he complimented me on my outfit, and he told me how exciting and great all my life plans and ideas were. By the end of the night he'd spent over $60 dollars on me. I've never had anyone spend that much money on me on a first date. I'm definitely not high maintenance and would be perfectly happy with a date that didn't cost anything, so this was a little overwhelming for me! Anyway, the point is Tyrone was one of the sweetest guys I've ever met.

As great as this all sounds, Tyrone and I were just too different from each other for anything to happen. Mostly, I don't think he understood my sense of humor. For example, when we went bowling I told him we should make up names for each other. He didn't know what to choose so I suggested we pick black names. He stood there for a minute, then turned to me in utter confusion and said, "Like...the race???" I said, something like, "Well, you know like Shaniqua, or something like that." Obviously still confused he turned back to the computer and said, "Oh, okay...right." After a few moments, he still couldn't come up with anything, so he suggested I enter his name first. I named him something ridiculous and stupid like Jareniqua Tyrone. He then confidently declared, "Okay, I got a good one." His choice: Shaniqua Jackson. He clearly still had no idea what I meant, repeated my example of Shaniqua, and then pulled Jackson out of who knows where. Michael Jackson, maybe? He was black...well you know, sort of.

Unfortunately for Tyrone, the nice guy did finish last this time. But he'll be great for someone, just not me.

And hopefully, I'll be great for someone someday too.

Until then,
The Cautious Charmer

The Tale of Wickham (part 2)

When last we parted (here), I had recounted to you the rise and abrupt ending of my almost relationship with Mr. Wickham this past spring. Here is the end of that story. The part where my heart was a little bit crushed.

He left for the summer and I was distraught. Futile attempts to communicate with him occurred within the first few weeks after his departure. But they were for naught. I was deeply saddened. Then at the end of the third week a mass text message was received from Mr. Wickham saying something to the effect of:
"I'm engaged!"
This was obviously a joke... but upon further inquiry of both the boy and his friends, it was determined that this engagement was indeed the truth. I was in complete shock and heartbreak and confusion. 4 weeks earlier I had been holding hands with this boy, and now he was engaged? What is this world coming to?!
So here's what allegedly happened:
Mr. Wickham had been home for a week and all of the sudden started missing his ex-girlfriend, Ms. Diva.  He brushed it off, assuming that home just reminded him of her. The second week he was still feeling the same. And then the third week came and he decided that he was actually in love with Ms. Diva. And thus he went out and dropped a small fortune on an engagement ring. Having not seen, spoken to, or heard from Ms. Diva in over three months, THREE MONTHS, he showed up at her door, expressed his newly discovered love for her, and dropped a knee. As is to be expected, Ms. Diva was shocked and asked for some time to think about it. The very next day, she gave him an affirmative answer and voila: engaged.

Maybe my heart was just too fully invested in this boy and that clouded my judgement a bit, but doesn't this sound slightly crazy?

Answer: yes.

So the man was engaged and I was stuck in that awful place where you know you absolutely have to get over someone, but know that you absolutely can not do so. I was heartbroken like nothing I'd ever experienced before. I couldn't handle my own emotions at times. But alas, I persevered. After a couple months of sadness, not a constant sadness but the kind of sadness that came when I got a moment alone with my thoughts, which always drifted back to him... yes after all that, I did it. I got over him. I realized that I lucked out and avoided a relationship with a crazy person. I realized that I had been good enough friends with him before this whole debacle to be able to honestly say that I hoped he was happy. Even if it hurt me, I truly was glad that he was doing what he thought would make him happy in life. Mr. Wickham was a dear boy, but it has all worked out for the best and he is now married - here's to hoping he's happy!

The Friendly Kisser (though clearly not in this situation)

ZOMBIE SLAYER

This week's greatest accomplishment: I SLAYED A ZOMBIE. 

For more on Zombie Boy please read previous post. I'm going to pretend most of you are caught up on things and know that Zombie Boy has been haunting my heart on and off for about 6 years. 

So, lately, I've been getting quite tired of constantly being on guard. If he texts me, I run into him, I see something that reminds me of him (etc. etc.), my feelings creep back. It's especially frustrating when absolutely nothing substantial happens. I feel chemistry and would swear on my life he did too... if it wasn't for the fact that HE DOES NOTHING ABOUT IT. 

With this in mind, I made a big decision. I wasn't finding closure on my own, so I was going to talk to him. 

Probably comparable to fighting a Zombie with a kitchen knife. 

Anyway...

Dating Rule #78: When trying to be brave and show/tell a boy how you feel, your first attempt will almost always certainly fail. 

However, two days later he played right into my ploy when HE asked me to go up to South Jordan. After an entire evening of fun and laughter and pleasantness, we drove home together. I knew my roommates would be waiting with knives if I came home without having talked to him... so around Lehi, I dove in. 

I started with our Sophomore year of High School and told him all. My feelings then, my feelings now, how hard it was for me, how confused I have been since, how terrified I was for him to come from his mission, how I still had feelings for him now and didn't know what to do... EVERYTHING. Let me tell ya, it felt good. 

Then, I demanded answers. Now I don't recommend this to any two people, but Zombie Boy and I go way back. It was actually pretty natural for us to talk about it all. He was absolutely wonderful and gave me the closure I needed. I finally understand what he was thinking and IS thinking. 

How did this lovely convo end? I looked him in the eye and simply said, "I'm going to let go and move on." 

I don't ever remember words tasting so good. Because it was true! I felt a huge burden lifted. So much so that I may have been in complete shock/broken down crying after my roommates mobbed me for information. 

Ladies (and Gentlemen, if you're here) I firmly believe that communication can do amazing things. Whoever knew that all you really need to kill a Zombie is a good, long conversation. 

And the best part? We're still great friends. In fact, maybe better. 

The One Timer: Over and Out