Magic is fleeting. Sometimes it's an illusion, and not magic at all. Sometimes it is an elaborate ruse designed to feel like magic, employed by evil people to extract some of your essence from you.
I didn't see this one coming. I never anticipated that, after a month of constant texting, late night conversations, a seemingly incredible connection, renewed hope that maybe, maybe, there was an awesome "just a lonely" guy in the world who wanted to share some awesomeness with someone like me. I wouldn't have guessed that after the best first date of my life, filled with plans and ideas, and the next day with proclamations (from him) that this was definitely something with long-term potential, that something would change in an instant. I would have never predicted that after his seeking re-assurance that he was special, that I liked him as much as he did, after his wanting to know if he could be with me, that a mere 7 hours after him saying "I miss you, I can't wait to see you again tomorrow", I would have woken up, aglow with the flicker of new romance, to a long text message explaining that he was too busy to keep seeing me, and it was best to end it now, that I am a wonderful woman, and would find someone amazing one day. I would have never guessed, after all of that, after feeling hopeful about finding love for the first time in years, after his constant expressions of desire, his wanting to know me, him becoming a friend, him making plans with me, after sharing an incredible night together, with him swooning over my body, staring into my eyes for hours, and saying, over and over again, how much more amazing I was in person, with him swooning all through the next 2 days, excited to see me again, that I would be unceremoniously dumped via text.
Even more unexpected was the coldness he displayed when I pressed him for a real answer, when I asked, rightly so, what the hell had changed, literally overnight, in the less than 8 hours since we'd spoken, excited to be re-united. How someone who seemed so sweet, so vulnerable, who seemed to need a lot of re-assurance, finally, after I refused to accept the lie of I Don't Have The Time, called me clingy. Seeking male approval. High maintenance. When, if anyone was being clingy, it was him. After so many talks about feminism, and misogyny, and how hard it is for women, especially one marginalized in the ways I am, to finally learn to love ourselves. After that, and when I exhibit anger, sadness, tears when I feel confused, and manipulated, that I am seeking validation. That I've "slept with countless men" so why do I have feelings now? That it was only one date, when we both knew it was more than that. That it is somehow OK to speak/act like he wanted to marry me one day, do a 180 overnight, with no real explanation, but that my crying over it was somehow gauche or indicative of a lack of self-esteem. That using and manipulating a kind, generous, sincere woman was OK, and that he is still a feminist because he's "volunteering at a women's shelter" in the fall.
No. Treating women like disposable objects, manipulating them, lying to them, to what? Get some sex? Making assumptions about their sex lives because they're sex workers (when, really, you should be HIRING a sex worker, rather than playing with people's emotions), shaming them for being sexual, and for having genuine emotions, when YOU are the one 100% in the wrong is not feminist. It's a manifestation of misogyny.
No man, whether I cry over him or not, even after "one date" can ever again make me feel guilty or worthless. Wanting love and romance, being vulnerable and open and honest about it, expressing my feelings, and not being ashamed of my sexuality or my past doesn't make me weak, insecure, or lacking in self-love. You, sir, who felt the need to play with my emotions, when all I gave you was my raw, unedited self, are the one who needs to work on your self-love. Not me. All I did wrong was have hope, and believe what were clearly a bunch of well-crafted lies, and spend half a day crying about it over wine. All I did was believe it, because damn it, I deserve a little sweetness in my life, especially this year. Because I miss someone who I thought was my friend, because I am sad that what promised to be a beautiful relationship is over, is what makes me human. It may have taken me 30+ years, and I may have used sex as validation in the past (but really, who doesn't), and I may have stayed with an abusive fuck for 4 years because I know what's out there for a woman like me, and settling for scraps is a valid option for survival, but none of that means I don't have self-esteem. I have it, loads of it, and it's a perfect companion to my self-awareness, something which you, lying, delusional manipulator with your feces breath and limp dick (yes, I am mean when I'm angry), have not an ounce of.