Being stood up is fucking shitty shit.

Today sucks and for different, yet related ways.

First, it’s The Neighbor’s 32nd birthday and last year feels like this morning somehow.  And second, I was stood up on Saturday by someone I liked and trusted and even today it feels like a raw, stinging slap in the face.

Though I am making strides to distance myself further from TN, it’s still a struggle.  Last year we were broken up and his birthday spent together was painful, awkward and titillating, not unlike a red, angry blister on ecstasy.

A couple of months later I ended our friendship and embarked on a TN-free life in pursuit of a man who actually valued me, but clearly I’ve failed in that endeavor.  It’s been an interesting 10 months.

That brings us to two days ago when I was treated with no respect and little regard.  I don’t have control over others; I thought I’d chosen well enough, but I was very sadly wrong.  I feel sucker punched.  I have never in my entire 20 years of dating ever stood someone up.

Not a guy I’ve never met before and certainly not someone I had met previously.  Clearly everyone doesn’t operate by the same moral and character code as me.  They do whatever the fuck they want whenever they want because they can.

He didn’t text me when I asked if he was en route 30 minutes after our agreed upon time, nor did he respond when I texted close to an hour after our date to confirm that we were actually meeting at 8.

I can’t guess what happened, but I can tell you with 100% certainty that there are only 2 reasons why not texting me back would be acceptable:

  1. death or serious bodily trauma or;
  2. a phone is lost or broken.

But this young man turned down the offer of my address because he said he remembered where I lived, so ostensibly he could have shown up if it were #2.  And I’ll feel badly if it’s #1, but the odds are slim to none that something tragic befell him.  Let’s be real: he was just a dick.

In a world of disposable dating, why do I have to extend any slack in the line??

With TN we fought a lot about his tardiness.  I would have dinner timed and  he’d call 5 minutes before he was supposed to arrive to say something had come up at work.  He thought he was being sensitive.  My risotto or fish never agreed.

He demanded my understanding and I his, but we were in a committed relationship so it seemed reasonable.  But for a 3rd date?  Is it reasonable to extend blind understanding and empathy at the expense of one’s dignity and self-worth?

When I have shared my upset in the past with a man at being treated like this I’ve been called inflexible, told my standards are too high and that I’m seeking “dating perfection.”  I’ve also been called old and demanding, as if to infer I don’t know how the kids these days date.

The details of the interactions are immaterial, but what’s important is the overall belief that if I insist on effort I am high maintenance and rigid.  But here’s the thing, for a first date, yeah, you better make a fucking effort.  In fact all my dates better have some work behind them because I will be working for them, too.

I’ll have cleared my schedule and protected your time slot (I turned town two sets of friends for that date Saturday night), I’ll eat the right things so as not to be gassy or have an upset stomach (yes, I do that), I’ll clean my fucking house, shave my entire fucking body, moisturize and shower, buy various sizes of condoms to accommodate your dick, make my bed, stock my fridge and even put my phone on silent once we’re together.

And yet somehow texting me to let me know that something has changed or come up is too much effort.  TN could barely keep me in the loop and I was supposedly a major part of his life.

Well, thanks a fucking lot for that, you fucking dick wad.

In 20 years of dating I have never mistreated another human being in that way.

I’ll admit to being distant and letting things die on the vine, or not returning feelings, but I have never not been where I said I’d be or not done what I said I’d do.  It’s counter to who I am: I am a nice fucking person whose word means something.

Dating has become this vicious, self-serving, distant act.  We do what we want when we want.  We rely on our phones to implant a wall between us and those we’re actually trying to get to know.

We don’t want to seem too eager, too clingy, too insecure, too caring, too into it, too ______.  God forbid we show any genuine excitement about anyone lest we reveal ourselves to be drooling, humping idiots with no self control or caché.

I have spent literally hours upon hours of my life dissecting text with and for my friends. What does it mean if he doesn’t text you after a sexual encounter?  a first date?  Should you send the first text?  reply immediately?  What happens when punctuation suddenly shows up when text was fast and loose before?  Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah.

I treat a man I’m talking to with the same respect and social courtesy as I would a friend or family member who’s texted me; it removes any thought on my part.  It gets tricky when the interactions become dating-specific, like the post-fuck text.

In those instances I err on the side of who I am.  What feels natural?  To text or not to text, that is the question!  There’s no right or wrong answer there considering we’re all our own Litmus test; if he doesn’t like what I’ve texted when I’ve texted it (or didn’t text it) then that’s valuable information moving forward and if it ends there, well, then we clearly weren’t meant to be.

Everyone plays it so cool we forget the message we send is I don’t care about you.  Maybe there’s some truth to that, but what if it’s on a scale?  Like, I don’t care about you that much, but I still care somewhat?  Obviously, there’s no way of knowing the intent since it feels the same on the other end regardless.  We all really fucking suck at communicating.

For you Gen Xers out there, like me, do you remember when all we had were landlines?  I would come home from work and toss my keys into the bowl next to the answering machine and would be filled with a pleasant rush if I had a flashing number blinking at me.  Someone had thought of me!

They’d left a message with real words and the only way for me to let them know I got their message was to pick the phone up and call them back and use my own voice.

Chats took effort and focus; I couldn’t do anything else but think about and talk to the person on the other end.  My mother, my friends, the men I’d met.  It was a simpler time despite it requiring more effort on everyone’s parts.

Ben is the last man I’ve “chatted” with and one of the only ones over the last several years.  I’d like to think it sets him apart in some ways.  But I could be wrong; I seem to be wrong regularly.

My Saturday night date was a sweet young man — or so I thought — and it doesn’t help that other men I care about have been infuriatingly silent for far too many days on end, as well.  Nor does it help that today is TN’s birthday and all the memories of him are kicked up.

I’m worn out and down and frustrated and lonely.

I have extinguished the frantic pace with which I was devouring men and all but ground to a halt.  I have been picky, patient, and persistent and yet it has not yielded what I’d hoped: a shield against bullshit.

The truth is, dating sucks no matter how you do it.  Whether you’re a man-eater or  cautiously optimistic and highly selective.  There’s nothing I can do to protect myself: dating is dangerous, period.

My feelings are hurt from Saturday and I’m left scratching my head at how I could have been so wrong about him; I never would have thought he’d do something like that.  And I am bereft — still — at the absence of The Neighbor.  Yes, even now.

The other irons I have in the fire don’t seem to be panning out and so it’s back to the drawing board.  I’ve spent my entire weekend basically on my couch or poolside doing literally nothing of any interest.  I’m not proud of that.  I fear loneliness is slipping between my ribs and weaving its way towards my heart.  I feel frozen in time.

I don’t remember the last time I felt this way, adrift and aimless.  Sad.

Treating a person with disregard, a person whom you ostensibly want to get close enough to lay with, is an odd cross of messages.  I want to penetrate your body, but I refuse to acknowledge your humanness.  It makes no sense and no wonder we all act like crazy people in this random, ridiculous march to coupling.

Had he only texted, “Hey Hy, got super drunk with friends earlier today. Can’t make it tonight,” I’d have been pissed, but grateful for the note.  As it stands his continuous silence is humiliating and embarrassing.  Not only was my judgement off, but he clearly doesn’t think I’m worth even the littlest amount of effort to be treated with kindness.

TN’s continuous stalking is humiliating in its own strange way: he wants to keep tabs on me, but not in a meaningful way.

I look forward to the end of July.  This has never been my favorite month.  It’s TN’s birthday, the anniversary of my father’s death and my friend Sara’s suicide.  My grandmother’s birthday falls on Sara’s death and I can’t think of her without thinking of the pain my friend felt.  I put my cat down after 15 years of togetherness on the 6th.  The anniversaries are on the 4th, 6th, 8th, and 9th.  It’s a brutal time of year for me.

I always try to be kind to myself at this time; there’s nothing worse than self annihilation when you’re hurting.  Unfortunately, I don’t feel all that successful.  I’ve been glued to the couch and my computer and have been pumping my veins full of wine.

I guess the hurt will pass, as will all the memorable days, and I’ll get back to normal me.  Quiet, lonely, normal me.







A 40-something single mother who writes honestly about sex, body image, D/s, relationships, her nervous tics, and how much she loves to fucking fuck. She also likes to show you her tits.

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19 thoughts on “Being stood up is fucking shitty shit.
  1. I’ve asked the same questions about being stood up. I can’t say I understand it especially in the context of the lead up and the bazillion things I’ve done to ready myself for it. It makes me feel worthless and disposable. When it’s someone you thought you had a rapport with, it’s even worse. It’s why my man hiatus continues after nearly 8 months.

    Hang in there, doll. You’re worth it
    Cara Thereon recently posted…Happy Jun- I mean July My Profile

  2. Hy,

    I’m sorry this has happened to you.i don’t know if it’s the first time for you or if this time just hurts more because you included so much in information about TN also.
    As a male, now an older man, this basic type of stand-up has happened to me and to other men I know more than I care to tell you.
    It’s frustrating and hurtful, none the less.
    And yes, I experienced a lot of the same emotions as you.
    I was then ‘ghosted, by these women. I simply said ‘fuck it’ and ‘you don’t know what you’ve missed’ and simply moved on.
    maybe it’s a guy thing.

    1. It’s the second time it’s happened in full, first time by someone with whom I had been intimate with. Bones blew me off one night, but he and I texted about it. And what’s maybe a guy thing?

      1. that I blew off those women, left them then, and moved on.
        Maybe with guys that’s easier. Doesn’t forgive what happened or erase the memory however.

  3. Showing up when you said you will really has nothing to do with ‘dating etiquette.’ It’s simple respect! Yeah, I’m a bit crazy about being on time (which, for me is no less than ten minutes early), but I’m all about being responsible. If you hear from the nice young man again, how will you handle it? I’d be tempted to not reply, or if my bitchiness got the best of me I’d have to respond by telling him simple courtesy to another human being seems to be missing from his genetic makeup, so lose my number. I’m sorry you went through this, especially with the added angst of the whole stinkin’ month.

    1. Exactly Catrina! Respect was the first thing that came to my mind….Hy you are too close to the situation to have perspective…what you desire from another person regardless if it is a date….is simple respect….it is NOT too demanding of you at all…..especially when you are so conscientious about giving it yourself….UGH! life can be fucking difficult and you are going through a fucking difficult time…and it sucks the big one….You will absolutely and ultimately prevail….I perceive you as a very intelligent, witty, brave, open minded, hard working, strong individual (oh yeah and hot) I am willing to bet that most if not all of your readers feel the same….AND don’t forget about the wonders of your London man…..they are out there for you (screw TN his heart is just as achy as yours is)

    2. If I hear from him — which I don’t know that I will — I will tell him how pissed off and hurt I was. If he apologizes I’ll hear him out and go from there.

  4. Hy, I am so sorry that this man has brought you so much less than an amazing experience. On the other hand, as always I am impressed by how much you share with us. The raw emotion you’ve expressed is stunning, and you’ve beautifully called out the moronic fashion in which we communicate nowadays.

    Karma is a fat singing bitch, and that asshole will get a heaping pile of what is coming to him.

  5. Sorry you have been treated with such a lack of respect. As an older woman I am constantly surprised about the lack of simple good manners in some of the young people I come across. I suspect that this man made the date, and then changed his mind, but did not have the decency to contact you. You do not deserve to be treated like that, so my only advice would be to strike him from your list of ‘friends’ and move on. He probably won’t even realise that he has been such an arse, because he has never been taught anything better. Good luck next time.
    Rachel de Vine recently posted…And She Was His – an erotic storyMy Profile

  6. I echo what Steve said. Does he deserve the space on here you’ve given him? Probably not, but your feelings do.
    Hy, I also have had many of the same experiences and hurt feelings that you have had many times over. This weekend being a holiday is partly why I could not find a date to save my life. Well that and I had to work for part of the weekend.
    On the horizon though, I have a promising man who I am meeting at the end of this week. He says he not only wants to have fun in the bedroom but outside of it too. We shall see I guess.
    Of course, there’s always the guy who I’m interested in but doesn’t seem to have time for me. Story of my life!
    But enough about me, you need to be kind to yourself and honor those loved ones (and your sweet furbaby), in your own way. Cry if you need to and embrace the pain and lean on those you trust. You’ve been broken, but you’ve been so much stronger than you realize dear. Embrace your loving, warm self and know that you are worthy of so much better behavior than the shallow jerk(s) that did not make you a priority. It does NOT mean we are old-fashioned or behind the times. We are decent and courteous! Don’t ever lower your standards.
    I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, being alone is not the worst thing in the world. I know at times it feels like it though. But it does make us stronger and fall in love with ourselves so we have more to offer the ones who deserve our wonderful company. Chin up, and reach out to us readers and your friends who DO care about your well being. Here for you… XOXOX.
    Joyce C recently posted…Intoxicated…..My Profile

  7. Common courtesy would dictate that you would tell someone if there had been a change in plans or if you were unable to make it. There really isn’t an excuse (barring the ones you suggested).
    I had a man like that ..he used to set a time and then not turn up on an almost regular basis. I ended up sending him messages asking whether he had been involved in an accident where his fingers had all been chopped off…very childish I know but it gave me some
    satisfaction at the time haha

  8. Hy, I don’t know if your the person I should ask advice from. It sounds like you have more than enough problems on your plate. But as it stands, I can’t talk to my family about my problems or and “friends” are beyond useless.

    I broke up with my ex in January. We were together for 3+ years. I loved her, truly did, but I knew I had to end it for both of our benefits. It seemed like we stopped being happy and I couldn’t tell you the last time we has sex while we were together. We would fight over the dumbest stuff, and yet at the end of the day I still wanted to see her smile and hold her tight it allowed me to believe that even with my troubles in my life, that I was going to be alright.

    Since then we’ve had more sex than while we were together. Shes fucked plenty of guys since then and I’ve had sex with one other person since then.

    It hurts, A LOT. I’m a 25 year old red head living in Miami. I’m slightly overweight but trying to get in better shape. There’s this one girl I can have sex with if I only ask. The kicker is, I hate myself every time I do. I don’t find her attractive and I always think, “This is the best I can do?”

    I’ve hit my rock bottom today. I hung out with my ex and had a good time, stupid of me I know. We watch a movie and she falls asleep just enough so that she can get off but won’t let me. She made a bet that if I could get her to squirt, we could have sex. She never let me get that far in our relationship and yet she let some other fucker do it for her.

    I feel like a piece of shit. I don’t know what to do. I messed up financially with my gym. I don’t want to hit the bottles. The girl I do actually like isn’t looking for anything. I can’t talk to anyone and it’s getting to a point where my .45 is looking pretty nice about now. I know that’s not an option but there’s times where I’m driving and I want to see how it would feel to drive into on oncoming building or semi.

    I’m hoping you can help me find the light in the bottom of this dark abyss I find myself in.

    1. Chris, first and foremost, I’m sorry for your pain.

      Secondly, please, PLEASE call 911 if you get serious about suicide and please don’t do anything with your car. You’ll hurt countless others in your pursuit.

      My non-professional advice to you is to find a professional to talk to.

      If that’s not possible then take charge of something else. Leave death to natural causes.

      Go for a run instead of drinking. Change your diet. Break up with everyone and start anew.

      I hear that you feel helpless to change your life but that’s just not true, it’s just a feeling for now, and the less authentic we are in our lives the greater internal conflict we feel and shit feels horrible.

      I never feel worse than when I do what I know I shouldn’t. The Neighbor, the man who trampled my heart, was deeply unhappy for a year at least bc he knew deep down he shouldn’t be with me and it infected his entire life. I hated the pain he caused but admired him for finally doing what was right.

      Assess your life and be honest about what you should and shouldn’t be doing and correct the things you don’t like. Just please remember you’re a lot tougher than you feel and you can have the kind of life you want independent of the women currently in it.

      Don’t like your body? Change it. Don’t like yourself when you’re with someone? Stop seeing them. And so on.

      Lastly, the thing that has gotten me through some dark, horrible times is remembering that there’s no way I can possibly feel that bad forever, that it’s a reflection of this snapshot in time only, not a sentence for eternity. And you know what? I was always right and I always felt better. Always. And so will you. Broken bones don’t heal overnight, nor do broken hearts. Be patient.

      Again, this is NOT professional advice, but you asked and I didn’t want to leave you hanging. I hope you can get some local support soon or maybe do some research on your own that might make you feel less alone.

      And get rid of the fucking gun until you feel better. For real. Or better yet, forever. xx Hy

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