This past Spring, I had to have the “we can just be friends” conversation. It was my first time having one of them. After dating–just dating– this very sweet, thoughtful and engaging man for the past nine months, I realized our time together had run its course. I knew, really, just after a month of dating him that our fundamental differences would make it impossible for us to ever be serious. And at the time he agreed. But we also agreed that we liked each other and had no problem going out together. And though I wanted to stop dating him, I didn’t want to hurt his feelings. So much so that months before I mustered up the courage to tell him, I rehearsed what I should and shouldn’t say with people I trusted.
Apparently, I’m more eloquent with those people because in the moment when I actually said what I had to say, I relied on an old cliche. “I really just see us more as friends.” It was a tired line but it was also very true. I thought and still think he’s a good person but honestly, I had gotten to the point where any type of romantic interaction was almost repulsive. A part of me feels bad typing that but a larger part of me is nodding in agreement and support. So there it is.
We had our conversation and despite warnings from my mother that he just might “flip out,” act a fool or become irate, he took it pretty well. Very well, in fact. He didn’t leave my apartment immediately afterward, instead he played me a song and talked for at least 20 more minutes before getting up to go. It would have been such a pleasant ending had he not said something so troubling upon his exit.
“And we can be friends, I’ll just keep seeing you until you change your mind.” He said it with a smirk so even though it bothered me the very instant I heard it, I chalked it up to a poorly timed, nervous energy joke and shut the door behind him.
We texted each other occasionally but for the most part I didn’t see or hear from him throughout the summer. Then in September he called and told me that he was getting ready to get on a plane to Argentina because he wanted to learn Spanish. He would be out of the country for the next two months. I thought it was great. He, and all of us really, should go see the world. And I smiled, thinking this is why I liked the guy so much. He wasn’t afraid to take risks in favor of growing as a person. We’d have a nice friendship. And since I was so sure of that, I didn’t hesitate to debate with him about America’s true intentions with Syria while he was away via e-mail. This was something I was ok with.
The trouble didn’t start until weeks after he returned. Suddenly, the invitations to go this place and that place, like alone on dates started flooding in. I would always decline. Sometimes I was legitimately busy and other times I said I couldn’t make it when I really could have. In addition to his assuredness that I would like him again, something kept telling me not to tell him where I lived now. (I’d since moved.) Finally after at least 4-5 declined invitations, my sister, my accountability partner, told me it was time that I tell him the truth.
And after a day of hesitation, I carefully crafted a message which I thought was honest but not hurtful. To summarize, I politely told him that while I should have said this a while ago, I had moved on and didn’t feel comfortable seeing him in that type of context and I hope he understood.
I had to distract myself from looking at my phone, not knowing when he would respond or how he would take it. When his response finally did come, it threw me for a loop. After I took the time to get my words right, considering his feelings, he completely dismissed mine. His solution to me saying I wasn’t comfortable seeing him, was to just treat him like a friend. And he suggested that he “walk me to my job,” “walk me to my apartment,” or “take a walk in the park.”
Umm, no. Immediately, my mother’s warnings of the flip out popped into my head. These suggestions seem slightly dangerous. How many stories have we heard about the woman who wanted to see a cross lover just one more time before she ended up missing? I don’t think men realize the risk women take when we chose to go out with them, alone, often at night. But even more offensive, these suggestions totally ignored the integral point of my first message that I didn’t want to see him, especially not in the same way I saw him when we were still dating.
Where once I was concerned about his feelings, I now felt pissed off. Where was the respect for my wishes?! I didn’t even dignify his message with a response.
A few days later, he texted me again, asking if we could meet up because he’d purchased a souvenir that he wanted to give to me. I still wasn’t budging. At this point, his persistence was annoying and I wasn’t going to be swayed from my original course of action for a trinket. This time though I did tell him: Unfortunately, I still wasn’t comfortable and I wouldn’t be able to see him.
When I was younger, I used to hear stories about how men tried to control women or tried to belittle or completely dismiss their feelings. And I used to think that was just a select few. Maybe the dudes who would shake a woman or something like that. It wasn’t until I got older that I realized how pervasive this control thing really is when it comes to men. Men you’re working with or for, men in the street who command you to smile and even the men you’re dating. I’m sure there are women who would find this guy’s persistence appealing but if I’m going to be dating someone I need to know that he understands that sometimes a “no” is just that.
