3/13/09 - Date Twenty Nine: Backpack Rides Again

Oh, Backpack. You had such a bad week at work. You were so tired, so stressed, so down in the dumps. I was sympathetic, tried to plan a nice, relaxing evening so you could de-stress and we could just hang out. I was still on the fence about you (shit, I've bought a condo, joined a gym, and planted a garden on the freakin' fence at this point) and despite my best intentions to be honest with you and myself, I fear that I have been lying all along. I'm sad. I have to let Backpack go and don't know what to do now ...

We had dinner at this local spot that is very casual and has an extensive menu. I chose this place because of the casual atmosphere, thinking that the last thing I'd want after a long, hard week on the job would be to deal with a fancy pants restaurant with high brow food. This place is comfort all the way, food and atmosphere. We waited at the bar for a table, had a couple drinks, and I listened to him bitch and vent about the job stuff and then apologize for bitching. To which I responded that it was ok, that the point of the evening was to get him to just relax. He thanked me and I was happy to listen.

The table where they seated us could have accommodated both of us on one side and he commented on that, asking whether I found it weird when two people sat on the same side of the table for dinner in a restaurant. I said yes, because I do find it weird but also didn't want to spend the entire meal canoodling with him while simultaneously trying to eat. This was hint #1 that this was the last gasp for Backpack. We sat, ordered, held hands across the table (he initiated). His hands were really smooth, by the way. We ate our food and talked throughout the meal, the conversation great as always. I got tired halfway through my salad and starting having some internal anxiety about what we were going to do after dinner.

After the plates were cleared and the check paid, he got up and relocated to sit next to me. He leaned over to kiss me and I returned his kiss, so conflicted that my insides felt like knots. He asked what he could do to entertain me now and I sensed very strongly that he was hinting that we either keep drinking or go back to one of our respective apartments for sexytime. I was not wanting sexytime (hint #2) and was not really wanting to keep drinking (hint #3) so suggested that we just walk up the street and see where the night took us. Lame, I know but I didn't know what else to say!! We left the place and began our walk up the street in the direction of our neighborhood.

I felt like it was some sort of death march. My stomach was churning ... I'd finally realized that Backpack was not for me. For sure not for me and that I needed to tell this to him. I realized finally that by planning this whole evening and kissing him back and holding hands across the table and laughing at his jokes, I was being a huge, selfish horrible bitch. I do not want Backpack. I do not want to have sexytime with Backpack. If he disappeared, as so many of them eventually do, I would not be upset. I would be confused, but not sad. My mind was racing ... how do I get out of this?? I knew that he was hoping that I would invite him back to my place. I wasn't going to do that and was laying hints about being tired, etc. so the expectation would be diminished.

We got off the bus (which we finally caught after waiting for what seemed like an eternity) and he walked me to my house. More kissing on the steps to my building. I'm a bitch!!! Such a huge, horrible bitch bad person unfair to Backpack!!! He told me that he could kiss me all night and asked when we would be able to hang out again. I said, so lamely, that I had plans next Monday and Thursday (these are the nights, by the way, I have plans with friends ... I didn't tell him that I have dates both Tuesday and Wednesday nights, too. Oh, and possibly Sunday ...) and kind of left it at that. He walked away, frustrated that I hadn't invited him in and I said goodnight. He didn't tell me that he was frustrated, by the way, I could just FEEL IT, if you know what I mean.

Fear. Anxiety. Sadness. Angst. Apprehension. Knots in Tummy. What do I do?? What is the protocol here? I've been out with this guy too many times to send the "Sorry, but..." email. I don't want to do this in person. So, left only is the phone call. Do I wait for him to call me to make plans and then lower the boom? I've never had to do this before. Except once when I was drunk and the stupid asshole I was dating told me that he got someone else pregnant ... in that moment, it was obviously easy to tell him to fuck off. This guy has done nothing wrong and I can't even really explain why I don't want to continue seeing him. I just ... don't. As I said before, there's just something missing and I don't know what it is but it's preventing me from seeing any real future with him. I'm more excited to meet these completely new people next week than I am to hang out with him again. That's a signal, right??

Sigh. Guess I'll just wait to see what his next move is then take a deep breath, open my mouth, and try to be as honest, yet gentle as possible with the words that come out ... What would you want someone to say to you if you were him?