The One That Got Away & Other Lies

There is a guy on Twitter that I started following who is a life coach and motivational speaker, but is definitely not a Joel Osteen/Tony Robbins type, though closer to Tony than Joel – he reminds me of the fast-talking Italian types that I think all of us have seen a time or two whenever guys in suits are interviewed about whatever happens on Wall Street. And they’re Italian. And they’re loud. And they say “fuck” a lot. And they have a lot of big, white teeth and they talk fast and they say “fuck” again, just for emphasis.

What Brenden says in 140 characters on a regular basis at least once a day is what I have said at least once myself, or maybe have taken a few more words to have said it, but the sentiment was there. One downside to Brenden is that he is a staunch supporter of Trump, so I have to sometimes decide if I have to walk away from what he’s saying for an entire day because he’s humping Trump. I wish he would leave the elections out of his life coaching, but it’s his choice, so I have to deal with it.

To be clear, I’m not following Brenden because I feel I need life coaching. I think I have a pretty good handle on who I am, and I think Brenden has a pretty good handle on who he is. For a good portion of my life people have come to me for my help and advice. I feel like Brenden should be my backup bitch. I haven’t got the energy for it. Actually, I need to reword that: I don’t have the fucking energy for it. I’m at doctor appointments nearly every day and worrying about where I’m going to live when my money runs out.

Anyway, one of his posts today was this: “You can’t move forward in life until you’ve got a proper context for the past and are completely at peace with it.”

I think proper context is something that a lot of people miss out on, especially if they are finding themselves stuck in the same patterns.

Because I’ve been on OKCupid a few times in that past couple of weeks, I’ve seen old messages that were not previously deleted – even from a few years ago! Some exchanges cracked me up, some made me roll my eyes, some guys made me think of course you’re still on here, you’re just looking for someone to bang, not a relationship like you claim in your profile.

Of course, the messages between the most recent ex and I were in there too. He told me in the course of our exchange that he had taken expensive dance lessons to impress a woman who had no romantic interest in him and never would. I found out this happened sometime between age 38 and 44 for him, and he turned 45 when we dated. He was supposedly madly in love with this woman for five years while she said she only wanted friendship from him (and maybe once in a while emergency assistance like errands or bail-outs).

He told me, “She’s the closest thing to the one that got away, I guess.” This is not proper context. If one is going to use this Nicholas-Sparks-antiquated term, it refers to both parties loving each other and feeling as if they could, indeed, be in a long term or forever relationship, but distance or circumstances (like one of them is taking care of an ailing parent for 20 years and it’s the 1940’s and unmarried people don’t live under the same roof) keeps the couple from getting together. This woman could not imagine dating him. He was really, really trying hard to make her change her mind. For five years.

She does not owe the Ex-Saint because he really, really wanted her to change her mind. She is not, nor will she ever be, the one who got away.

Same goes for me. I am not one that “got away” – but I did call bullshit.

It’s weird and creepy how much of a departure from reality his imagination took him, but here’s a glimpse: He would tell everyone he managed a “call center.” Now, I’ve worked in call centers for 15 years. Hell, the campus I worked at in Arizona had 4500 people. His area has 3 people including him. He’s never worked in a call center in his life because this has been his only job in his entire adulthood besides the pizza place in college (which also wasn’t a call center, incidentally). My apartment has a cell phone and a VoIP phone. Do I live in a call center? No. But if he were describing it and it was his apartment, then yes, it would be a call center.

The Ex-Saint would get many calls that he wouldn’t answer while we were spending time together. I suspected that they were bill collectors, but he never admitted it.

The Ex-Saint had a gambling problem and would drop large bills on pull tabs. I only knew about it because the few times that we were at bars, he couldn’t pass by the pull tabs without spending a minimum of $50-100 in 5 minutes.

The Ex-Saint is a binge drinker. Every weekend, and even a few days a week, he gets stupid drunk. I estimate that he drinks somewhere around 50-70 12 oz. beers a month (but that might even be conservative). He’s also obsessed with putting jalapenos on all of his food, which has been identified as being an indicator that someone is an alcoholic – they seek out the spiciest food because they have fucked up their entire taste system.

The Ex-Saint is a binge eater. He slurps all of his food from his fork in a frenzied fashion as if it’s the first and last time he will ever eat, chews frantically with his mouth open and his eyes glaze over. He also eats 2-3 full plates at a time. This one is particularly hard for me because I have certain triggers myself, having struggled all my life with food addictions and seeking comfort emotionally through food. (Side thought: Where’s the damn gene that makes us addicted to vegetables??? WTF?)

The Ex-Saint is a hoarder. I was never allowed to see his apartment because apparently it was packed with junk and boxes.

The Ex-Saint is a compulsive liar. From the job description to the denial about drinking and gambling and just about anything else you can think of (too much to list here), lying is so much a part of his life because addiction is. I remember one time he tried to accuse me of lying about playing the violin, clarinet and piano; I told him that he had walked past my violin a few hundred times in my closet without realizing it, but it was there on the top shelf right in the open if he looked. No lie there. I’m musically inclined.

Proper context would happen if he actually got professional help to work through his issues. Unfortunately, he’s back on OKCupid (so now I can properly block him) – but that means he’s going to be telling his lies to a whole new audience. I’m sure his family feels sorry for him and has told him to get out there and try again. But if he’s lying to them, or worse, they are enabling him to continue to hoard and binge drink and gamble and wrack up debt, they’re not doing him a lick of good.

If he’s ready for some honesty, I’ve got Brenden’s info. Brenden will help him kick some fucking ass with truth and live an authentic life.

(Just don’t vote Trump or we will all die by February 2017.)

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