The One with the Poem. – Tinder

Did anyone ever write poetry for class or homework in primary school and write about a cool thing they saw their dog do, or what they saw on Lizzie McGuire the week before? Because same. My standards for, and understanding of, poetry have always been a bit flimsy- if not non-existent. I appreciate sonnets, I really enjoy Sylvia Plath, and occasionally I’ll laugh at a dirty limerick. But that’s really it. I instead prefer other outlets. I journal for therapy, I obviously write a blog about bad dates (hello) and sometimes as a teenager I dabbled in creative writing for school work. I always enjoyed English and Literature subjects at high school as I love reading and discussing books and themes, motifs and symbolism were always so interesting to me. To summarise, I enjoy language but don’t especially enjoy poetry.
Enter a well intentioned student studying English and Creative Writing. He was sweet enough, probably not on a soul mate level and definitely not what I’d consider to be my “type” (if you can really say you have one.) But this was one who fell hard and fast, and had never had a girlfriend before so was eager to impress me. In his attempts, though, he showed some fatal character flaws that pushed me away.
I can’t tell if it was the constant drinking and the drunk messaging, the way he decided to go gambling every so often with friends but would then get stressed about money (don’t get me wrong, I have nothing against a casual game of cards, but when you turn around and start complaining about money and your lack there of, we’ll have issues.) but there were a lot of things that really pushed me into not liking this boy, and it didn’t end in a way that I’m proud of…
I like to think I’m a fairly straightforward person, though patient is certainly not a way my friends or family would describe me. If you complain about money, cut back on expenses where possible, get a job (buy your own shit, and stay out of the forest), get a room mate to lower your personal expenses, even consider a budget to keep on top of everything. If you have problems with alcohol and how you behave when you drink, cut back. I am not shy about telling people to pull their head out when it is absolutely necessary, and sometimes my “nice” approach is too similar to being a push over. I don’t want to offend, but I also have a low tolerance for bullshit (but there will be more on this later.) So when he exhibited the above behaviours, cried one day when I was stressed and upset about something not related to him at all, and then got his FRIENDS to message me to ask if things were ok with “us” (what is this, high school?!) my patience for him wore thin, leading to a final showdown via Facebook. But not before the aforementioned poem…

‘Twas the morning of the Eurovision Grand Final 2016 and I was at a girlfriend’s house to watch the action unfold live. It was 4am and I was wiped out, mentally writing off the rest of my day in order to recover and not be a complete wreck the rest of the week. At around 8am, the boy (let’s call him Ross) messages me asking how my day’s been and “if I liked it.” What? I thought, Of course I liked my day, it’s 8am and I’m awake watching Europe showcase their finest, most cringey performers against the stunning backdrop of Sweden, what’s not to love!
But then later in the day, when the girls and I had decided it was time to make breakfast, Ross messaged me again and asked “if I’d seen it yet.” Seriously? Did we not cover this a few hours ago, yes I’ve seen it, it was controversial! Ukraine!! The conversation went in my head. I ignored his message, ate my pancakes and made the journey home for a nap. At about 3pm, I got a message from another girlfriend from class asking if I’d seen the latest email from our lecturer. When I opened my email, I noticed Ross had emailed me, but instead read the email from my lecturer (I have my priorities set straight.) My 9am lecture the following day was cancelled and would be instead an online module in celebration of Ukraine winning Eurovision (our Ukrainian teacher was obviously thrilled.) So a score for me, I had another day to recover from my sleep hangover.
Curiosity eventually got the better of me and I opened the email from Ross to see a video attachment. Hmmm…

Now is where we get to what is simultaneously the best and worst part of the story. The poem. I won’t go into the specifics other than to say it made me uncomfortable on so many levels, and I regret how I reacted to this. I genuinely have not, even in the 3 years following, been able to get through more than 2 seconds of it without wanting to rage and vomit on myself – though I have, in fact, heard from multiple sources, what the poem contains. I just can’t bring myself to ever watch it entirely.
But back to my bad reaction to this gesture. I asked him for space because I had been struggling with some stuff I was covering in my therapy sessions, and this whole situation was making me all the more uncomfortable. So I dealt with my own head for a bit and knew “breaking up” (if we can even call it that) was the best, and only, course of action. I wasn’t feeling much towards him, let alone to the level he was if he was willing to write me a poem professing his love for me and email it to me. I decided I would do it after my final exam, but that didn’t stop him from sending two of my best friends a group inbox on Facebook to ask them if they could talk to me for him. And to make matters worse, he had the audacity to compare his “feelings” for me to their level of friendship with me. Oy with the poodles already…


So this final showdown on Facebook involved a very emotionally fragile me messaging Ross to tell him that I wasn’t on the same page as him and that I was sorry. He was still rather pushy and it frustrated me when I thought I’d been clear enough with him, so my response was to send the above photo to him when he requested that we remain friends…

3 thoughts on “The One with the Poem. – Tinder

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