Gargoyles and Gargantuan Predators or In Case of Emergency Run Like Hell!!!

The person this story is about hopefully isn’t following everything that I write. But, I run that risk writing nonfiction. It’s over, who cares. For the sake of not getting a trillion emails I will change his name to “exhibit A” and not give the year or time, but other than that—story is real.

He had horrible breath. But, that was because he was the only man I knew that drank heavier than a gurgling hyena that passed out mid-sentence. I thought it was funny. Puerto Rican, with the most beautiful eyes—corner pocket I’d fall in love. Or what I wish to this day wasn’t ever strong enough to pose as love.

I can pinpoint all of my mistakes. It was a one-sided friendship, which usually turns into a one-sided relationship. He had friends that lived in my area, but he resided what maybe was an easy hour away except for his “gramma’s house,” which to this day I don’t know if it was ever his real gramma or some friend’s house that he made up. Back to how adorable he was: The kind of man most women assume will be chased, but still keep the hope that even if he chases others he still shows up at her door. Seriously, if he showed up at my door tomorrow I would purposely forget this story I am about to tell you. Not really, but I’d sure entertain what he’d say, and that ladies and gentlemen is how terribly gorgeous this man was.

I met him at my x best friend’s birthday party. I looked at him and knew no way he I was leaving without talking to this fool.

His pants slightly baggy, his hair wavy, his eyes glossy-dark, his voice boisterous enough for me to not miss, even in my own screaming, “happy birthday!” It was indeed a celebration. We were in a hotel. A patio called “Glo,” in Marina Del Rey. There were imitation fire lamps speckled across the court-yard and cabanas that made every section look private. I wore what I can now remember as my cute “freakum dress” tied off with halter belt worn high, everything was love.

I first noticed “exhibit A” as the event was ending. We flirted and I found that he was a friend of a friend’s friend. It was far down the line of I somewhat know you. Fast forward this night to the morning when we’d all apparently passed out in the hotel room floor after waking to a knock of room service bringing me a $70 breakfast I’d drunkenly ordered on my way to lalaville. O, I was young indeed. I remember leaving the hotel the next morning after having spent a whopping $470 and some odd dollars. Like I said, good times.

I was happy as a honeybee zizzing albeit hung over. Exhibit A and I began falling in lusciousness right away. I was invited to hang out. After a few long conversations, consistently driving back and forth to his house (yes, me and my horrific driving skills paved the road) I considered myself to be in “love.” Ha.

Exhibit A and I were inseparable. The early stages of infatuation is so intoxicating. Thinking about this made me realize how much I alone contributed to the friendship… and how that has affected my later relationships and life experiences.

He ended up disappearing for weeks not responding to calls or text messages. A month into the absence and just when I was ready to jump from a balcony somewhere all dramatic and pretty he calls saying something about some family issue, a failed test, and someone trying to hurt his sister. What? Random. He had excuses bigger than an execution day. It was only after I called bulls*it, that I found out he’d met another girl who coincidentally had the same name as I did and they were all over each others’ social networking pages. To this day I can’t remember any other disappointment being so much fun.

I’ve been on guard of one-sided friendships/relationships ever since. I’ll try for a while, and if I see I’m the only one trying… I let go. I’m always waiting for the rug that gets pulled. Or in my case, the whole damn floor.

I’m writing this for a friend who happened to call me today with what I see as a similar situation. I’ve learned it’s not nice to cut people off with your story that trumps their own   so this one is for you, ____, I love you. I know that much like me, you like to believe in the good that each person has. But you also fall for the best gargoyles and gargantuan predators. Unfortunately or rather fortunately my gargoyle wasn’t much worried about me, and I honestly hope you are as lucky. I mean that in the best way. It’ll sting for a while, but you’ll be ok. Sometimes, I’m learning… it’s best to cut your losses.

Recommended reading: You Lost Me at Hello, by Jess McCann.
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