They're Talking Nerdy Baby: #NerdsUnite
DUUUDESS!! I'm still getting more and more stories in regarding the series of posts "This is a story about #love, but it's not a love story." Amazing. Amazing. Amazing. I really liked this one that came in last night - the shoe is on the other foot and the chick plays the games. Ruh rohhhhhhh ...
I met the Nuclear Physicist traveling through Europe at the very end of my gap year between high school and college. In order to tell this story properly though, I must tell you a bit about the gap year. I was fresh out of a super small, super oppressive southern town. You remember that town that just quit having segregated proms about three year ago? We were a tiny smidge South of that. Seriously. I graduated to a strong American economy (hah, remember the days?) and a small trust fund from my great grandfather, whom I had been very close to. I had begun driving to Atlanta to act and model in my Sophomore year of high school so upon graduation I decided to forgo college for a year to try out the big leagues in NYC. What commenced there is not the focus of this story, but I will just say this: It was a fantasy. I fell in with the right crowd, thanks entirely to luck and hitting it off marvelously with a beautiful, sophisticated, amazingly connected French socialite. We became attached at the hip, and I got to experience her amazing life for a full year and it was everything a really good Gossip Girl episode is made of and more. There were famous actors, sports stars, and leaders of small countries, in VIP sections, on huge boats, and in epic brownstones..... It was a magical year, and it left me hard to impress and generally high on life. As I ended my year on Park Ave. I was beginning to realize that the actors life just wasn't for me. For one thing, I liked to eat, and at size four I was sick and tired of being told I was too fat. For another, in all honestly, I was a good actor back home, but nothing special in Manhattan, and I was starting to realize that. I was beginning to wonder what was next, and thought that before I settled down I should explore the other coast.
So, lets jump back to middle of nowhere GA for a minute... As a teen who pretty much belonged in any slushy to the face scene from Glee thanks to my immense dedication to all things theater, I didn't
exactly fit in at school, so I sought refuge on the WWW. I found a forum, which I participated regularly on, and that became my social life. On the forum I was pretty much known for two things: Being a goody goody anti web drama girl, and boobs. But, I existed, and I was happy in my little web space bubble. To this day I am still very, very close to two people I met on forum X, so I was forging real relationships, something that at the time, people were skeptical could happen over the internet. Today, with online dating, facebook, and linkedin, we have come to accept that validity of computer interactions a bit more.
Throughout my four years of daily participation on Forum X there was one male member who every chick there was after 24/7. We'll call him The Nuclear Physicist, or Rocket for short. Now, the image of a nuclear physicist might not get your blood boiling so let me add this: He was beautiful. I mean, fucking 11.5 on ten scale, unreal, ridiculous, face like David Beckham body like Mario Lopez g-o-r-g-e-o-u-s. And he was also Italian, with a hot accent, simplistic values, and a great work ethic that had taken him all the way to a PhD in a very difficult field.
Moving on. Like any spoiled trust fund kid I decided to commemorate the last few months of my gap year by traveling through Europe. The trip was amazing, and by the last few weeks I was in a bubble of bliss, between the trip and my year of fun in Manhattan. Seriously, for a small town Southern girl, my mind was blown. I was literally high on life. One day in my last week, while in Milan, I get a message from Rocket that was decidedly more flirtatious then usual, pointing to the fact that I wasn't all that far away from him... Over the next four days I explored Milan, but my true focus each day was to get back to my hotel room to video chat with Rocket. He was, seriously, the most beautiful man I have seen to date, and his sudden interest in me was so flattering. Being 19, fearless, and dumb, I decide to travel to San Remo and meet him over the last few days of my trip. He had a whole three-day agenda planned for us (I know, how awkward will that be if it doesn't work out, right?! Or even worse, what if he's some kind of killer? What can I say... I was 19 and fearless).. Well, not to worry, I showed up and he was everything he was through the lens of his web cam and more... Gorgeous, considerate, intelligent, he was everything a girl could want. He took me through his city and gave me a local perspective, and then we spent the night sleeping across from each other in the most respectful way possible on my hotel bed. The next day he took me to his beautiful little bungalow and that is where, for the first time, he kissed me. And it was nice. Exciting? Sure. Technically good? Sure. Fireworks? I don't even think I knew what they were then, so I didn't miss them... and, did I mention, he was OMG hot. The next day he took me to the beach, and we laughed the whole way there and the whole way back. We came "home" to his house (which he was already saying could be my home too if I wanted it to be) in a giddy haze of joy and fell on the bed where we made out, culminating in him going down on me.... which was also nice. No fireworks, no orgasm. Just pleasant and fun. Day three he took me to his work, introduced me to his friends, and, get this, we actually rode on a bike for two!! I could tell he was falling. I was having a blast. It was all a whirlwind enhanced by his amazing beauty.... We went home that night and had sex and it was... can you guess?? Nice. It was fine. But after we held each other all night and I felt so safe in his arms and every time I would look up at his face I would feel OMG.OMG.OMG. He was just So. Damn. Beautiful.
The next day it was time to leave, I felt high on him and the giddy excitement that had been the long weekend, and I could tell he felt every ounce of it too. It was all just so fucking surreal. Did I mention that the surreal nature of everything was enhanced tenfold by the fact that he didn't call me my actual name? We met online after all, and in those days everyone thought everyone else on the internet was a killer who also stole identities, so I had taken the name of my favorite character from one of my favorite novels: Anna. Of course around day two I had told him that actually wasn't my name, but it was what he had known me by for four plus years of virtual interaction, so he stuck with it. It was time for me to go home, and I was willing, if
not a little ready to leave despite the fun we had had. It had been the perfect end to the perfect year, and now I was ready to go home and enroll in college and get back to my life. He, on the other hand, was 29 and in a totally different place. It was more for him. I know that now, I didn't then, but I wish I had. He was looking for something serious. One of the friends he introduced me to that night in his town was his ex of seven years whom he had been with before me. She had nothing but glowing things to say about him and this is how I know the terrible mentalist like behavior that followed me did not predate me. He had been looking to settle down before me. He had probably been looking *with* me.
As I returned to Los Angeles and began setting up a life he was there every day. Emails, expensive phone calls, nightly video chats, and trading lovely messages back and forth on Forum X. It was all so damn fun. So exciting. Everyone was in awe that I had scored Rocket, both online and in real life, and he was so loyal to me from his posts on Forum X to with his friends at home....But.... At the same time... For me it had always been nice, and now, as adults, I know that's not nearly enough. He begged to see me ago so four weeks after coming to Los Angeles to set up a life I also set up a trip to fly back to Europe to spend a week with him. For me it was "how fun?!" to visit a gorgeous foreign guy who was head over heels for me. We had a great time again, and at the end of this trip, after perfectly nice sex, he looked at me and he said: I love you. It was all so exciting and fun I said "me too". Did I mean it? Hell No!! Did I know that? Maybe.... A little.
So, I returned home and he immediately booked a trip to come see me in LA for four weeks later. This time the travel costs were on him, and as a PhD candidate that was a huge deal. He didn't exactly have extra
cash to spare, but he was willing to scrimp and save to get to see me. Around this same time though, I had realized something wasn't quite right. I knew I didn't feel right to be in a serious committed relationship with him, but I put it on the distance because I could see no other reason. I decided that while everything simply had to be right, he was so nice, and so beautiful after all, the distance was the issue. I made the distance the monster, and I also made it my excuse. As a result, I did the pivotal thing that I now know was so fucking evil: I strait up refused to commit. It was because of "the distance".... And since I "love him so" I simply didn't want to commit to a relationship that could be spoiled at any moment by "the distance". Better to wait to commit until we lived closer together, right? He would ask me repeatedly to commit, to be with him and only him, after all, we were in love, right? I would tell him "of course! How could I think of anyone else??? I just don't want to risk it all when there is still 'the distance' "..... And he believed me. But, it wasn't the distance of course, and I pushed back even harder when he accepted the terms I knew weren't fair.
I know I did many hurtful things to him over the next eight months, but one instance stands out: I went to see one of my more-money-then-god friends, and I let him go down on me in his hot tub overlooking all of Los Angeles. It was a thrill, and I hadn't done anything wrong, I wasn't committed to Rocket after all, right? I came home and there Rocket was, requesting to video chat me. He had wondered why I hadn't answered my phone when he had called earlier and god help me, I told the truth. I think I was hoping he would say "Enough!!" and leave me, but he didn't. I said: "Well, I was with a guy. He wanted to hook up, and he put me on the edge of his hot tub overlooking the city and pulled down my bikini bottoms, but I wasn't really into it, so I pushed him away after a few seconds." (well, ok, I told most of the truth, but there was about a 15-minute gap in there that I omitted). He of course freaked out, and he cried, and I will never forget why he cried... He knew he couldn't make me happy because "he didn't have a hot tub to put me on, or the kind of money I was used to". Ugh. To retell it, it breaks my heart, but of course it wasn't that... for me it just wasn't... right. And I wanted it to be so. bad. So bad that I blamed the distance. So bad that I fessed up (most of the way) the few times I took advantage of my technical freedom. After all, I wanted this to work, and I wanted it to be right in that fictional time when the distance was gone and my heart changed. I assured him it wasn't the money, and I used this instance to bolster my resistance to commitment: "See, we're not committed, so what happened tonight doesn't matter to us one bit. I still 'love' you. Who cares? But if we were committed... We would have to break up! Thank god we're not committed, right?".... and guess what? He accepted this. He agreed with me. And we existed like this for several more months.
Now, lets take a little break here. Obviously, as an adult, I know this must have been fucking destroying him. At this point we had been together for nearly a year. We saw each other monthly, and talked daily. We said we loved each other. He planned to try to get a job in Los Angeles after he finished his PhD, and yes, we had had the same talks as you and the Mentalist. How we would raise our children, what kind of cars we would drive, what kind of home we would own. I'm sure that to some degree he thought this meant we were together, even though I insisted on the uncommitted nature of our relationship. I assured him there was no one else daily, and it was true! Was I telling anyone else I loved them? No. Did I want to be with anyone
else in particular? No. Was I dating/hooking up/etc.... Yep. But, it was "the distance". How could I not love him, after all? he was perfect!! If I was feeling so unsatisfied and needed to seek out others It had to be the damn distance that was causing !!.. right?? right?? I tried to convince myself.
So, whatever my reasons, I was jerking him around. Yep. I know that now, and eventually what was bound to happen happened: I realized it wasn't the distance. I just didn't love him. I really, really, wanted
to... I was angry with myself for not being able to love this beautiful, sincere, intelligent person but....... I simply didn't.
This is where things take a mentalist like turn. I left him. He was d...e...v...a...s...t...a...t...e...d.... And I was Ok. I went about my business, and I told him I was so, so sorry, and wished it could work every time he
called but I held firm that we were through. He even booked a trip to come talk to me, flew all the way out, and I refused to see him. It was "too hard when he would just be going home" I said... Truth be told I didn't want to. I had other plans, and I was just over it. I was exhausted from trying to force myself to love for a year, so I didn't see him.... But hey, I hadn't invited him right? Right? Ok. I know it's disgusting.
Fast forward six month, and we have developed the kind of friendship only a girl and an ex that still loves her can have, when one day I get an email with, get this, EIGHT pictures of Rocket with other chicks off Forum X and various web related sites. The letter coming to me from a girl we will cal Music alleged he had ripped her heart out and jumped up and down on it.... She expected I would be horrified to learn that during the last few weeks of our relationship he had been calling her. She expected I would be shocked he had stayed with her when he had come to see me in his last ditch attempt to get me back. She expected I would be even more shocked that after that they had formed a nearly committed relationship, and she had been ready to move to Italy to be with him, and then she found that he had begun to see dozens of other girls. There were attached emails and pics of my Rocket with each of these other women. They had all been talking, and trading stories about how he had wronged them. Within months of me leaving him stranded in LA after spending his last dollars to come visit me he had met up with many, many chicks to ease his grief, and how could he not, looking like he did? I called him and asked him about it, asking if he had really hurt Music so badly... He said it was nothing. All the girls in the pictures had had fun, right? He had different emails from them attesting what great times they had had with him and he argued "was their fun really all invalid because he had decided to be with other people? It wasn't anything serious with any of them after all... He didn't love them as he had me.... Who was he *really* hurting? He had never promised commitment to any of them after all".... But I knew... This behavior was new. This behavior would have been shocking to the man who six months into our relationship had begged.begged.begged me to commit.... And I knew I was partially at fault. As all the other women began to email me, telling me how they had fallen for him, and he had insisted that he was only with them but couldn't commit because of "the distance", and I knew exactly where he had learned that language. Around this time I did something immature... I got caught up in it and sent him a really, really mean email. It did everything from insult his penis to insult his looks (obviously I didn't mean any of it) and that was the last communication I had with him. I couldn't believe he had hurt so many people, and I was angry as hell. It wasn't until several year later that I began to realize I had plaid a role in his behavior, not until I met a guy just like The Mentalist, who told me a about when he began acting that way. It was a story of a girl who broke his heart in a nearly identical way to the way I hurt Rocket. To this day I would like to apologize to him, but I have no contact information for him, and he has all but given up the Internet since there is a lynch mob of wronged women searching for him on it daily. If you search his old
handle you can still find dozens of nasty notes about him, and he has one helluva profile on woman savers. I was young. I wanted it to work. I never would have thought the collateral damage of playing along with
something I didn't feel would be so great, but it was.