Judging from my past experiences I havn't had the best luck dating in New York. But I was starting to realize that I was getting to be a bit bitter about the wrongs which had been done to me. I was hauling around negative energy, which was apparent from my vengeful dreams and jaded comments I would make when drunk (aaand sober). It was just too much work to be angry at these assholes. So I had decided to be the bigger person. I was going to start small and test the waters. First target--Mason. We hadn't spoken since our text exchange ("I just can't give you what you deserve", vomit) about a month before. I had unfriended him on facebook, while also drunkenly and accidentally setting his name as my status in the process. So I had no idea what he was up to, but he and GF worked together, so there was a small possibility of running into him. And who knew how I would act unless things were smoothed over. So I sent him this email:
So I just wanted to say that I feel a bit badly about the way things ended with us. I honestly just didn't want to deal with the whole situation and figured there was no point in talking about it. I guess we both could've done some things differently. We were close at one point and I definitely look back fondly at our time together. I don't want you to think I hate you or something, nor do I want you to think poorly of me. I realize that you are going through a lot and I appreciate the fact that you shared some of it with me. I hope that you at least had fun with me. So if we ever see each other out, we don't have to be afraid of saying hi. Hope all is well!
I was pretty pleased with myself for that humanitarian act. After a few days of waiting, where I once again convinced myself he was actually an asshole, I finally received this response:
Thanks so much for this email. Leaving off the way we did just didn't sit right and I've been unsure what to do about it. I very much hope to stay on good terms with you. The times I spent with you were overwhelmingly good--thanks for your part. Now hearing you say that, I hope we do see each other out!
A decent response. So I refriended him on facebook and took that as a sign to move on to the bigger task at hand--Ibanker. We had had minimal contact since things had ended; the last time I had heard from him was about a month after the last time I had seen him It was a polite response to an email I had sent, with a new Martin Solveig video and the line "this obv doesn't mean we are bffs". I had regretted the email and had been upset about the whole situation for quite awhile. Even when things had been going well with Mason, I always compared things with Ibanker. And almost everywhere I went in New York reminded me of him. I had been terrified to go to the West Village (where he lives) for months. And now there was really no escaping it, since I was working three blocks from his office. I would walk quickly by twice a day on the way to the subway, with my head down. I always told myself to stay calm if I did run into him, but I of course didn't heed my own advice. One day I thought I actually did see him and literally ran in front of a cab to escape. When I dared look back, the guy only slightly resembled him, so my brush with death had been for nothing.
Why all the fuss over this tool? Partly timing and partly his actions. We met at a vulnerable time for me. The night with him in Croatia was the last fun night before a series of horrible events. During my last two weeks in Europe, I had had a traumatizing experience with an Australian guy and also had my heart stomped on by a deceitful Swiss. Not to mention I was leaving behind the life I had known for six months, to finish grad school in Syracuse, NY. But Ibanker was there for me during this time, in which I was pretty upset. We emailed then texted and met up a couple times in New York. Then when I actually moved here for my internships he was there. I didn't know many people besides him and it could be lonely. And he was fun--he lavished me with praise and took me out for wild nights. He had a lifestyle and background with which I was unfamiliar. He was charming, successful and unlike anyone I had ever dated. Throughout our whole affair, he would always swoop back in at the last minute to get me caught up again, even when I had given up on him.
I missed this, and of course him. I wondered who he was seeing and constantly poured through his friends' facebook pictures looking for clues. I had gone through all the albums I could find of his Hamptons house, to which I had been "invited' but not really. So I was basically acting like a complete fucking pyscho and I was sick of it. The madness needed to stop. I took it as a sign when the Croatia guy mentioned a reunion before he moved away. This could not happen without first making amends.
I finally sent a similarly worded email to him. An hour later I received a response from him along the same lines as Mason's except for one thing--it contained a question. Rhetorical or an invitation for discussion. I of course took it as the latter, as I had come this far. This has resulted in a series of very short, yet friendly, emails back and forth, which is still ongoing. Obviously nothing will come of this except for me maybe being mildly pissed off when he inevitably stops responding. But I feel that a weight has been lifted. I can now walk, not scuttle, by his office and I've stopped imaging the scenario for running into him at every place I go. New York is no longer the city of the Ibanker, or any other asshole equivalent. It is finally now my own.
So I just wanted to say that I feel a bit badly about the way things ended with us. I honestly just didn't want to deal with the whole situation and figured there was no point in talking about it. I guess we both could've done some things differently. We were close at one point and I definitely look back fondly at our time together. I don't want you to think I hate you or something, nor do I want you to think poorly of me. I realize that you are going through a lot and I appreciate the fact that you shared some of it with me. I hope that you at least had fun with me. So if we ever see each other out, we don't have to be afraid of saying hi. Hope all is well!
I was pretty pleased with myself for that humanitarian act. After a few days of waiting, where I once again convinced myself he was actually an asshole, I finally received this response:
Thanks so much for this email. Leaving off the way we did just didn't sit right and I've been unsure what to do about it. I very much hope to stay on good terms with you. The times I spent with you were overwhelmingly good--thanks for your part. Now hearing you say that, I hope we do see each other out!
A decent response. So I refriended him on facebook and took that as a sign to move on to the bigger task at hand--Ibanker. We had had minimal contact since things had ended; the last time I had heard from him was about a month after the last time I had seen him It was a polite response to an email I had sent, with a new Martin Solveig video and the line "this obv doesn't mean we are bffs". I had regretted the email and had been upset about the whole situation for quite awhile. Even when things had been going well with Mason, I always compared things with Ibanker. And almost everywhere I went in New York reminded me of him. I had been terrified to go to the West Village (where he lives) for months. And now there was really no escaping it, since I was working three blocks from his office. I would walk quickly by twice a day on the way to the subway, with my head down. I always told myself to stay calm if I did run into him, but I of course didn't heed my own advice. One day I thought I actually did see him and literally ran in front of a cab to escape. When I dared look back, the guy only slightly resembled him, so my brush with death had been for nothing.
Why all the fuss over this tool? Partly timing and partly his actions. We met at a vulnerable time for me. The night with him in Croatia was the last fun night before a series of horrible events. During my last two weeks in Europe, I had had a traumatizing experience with an Australian guy and also had my heart stomped on by a deceitful Swiss. Not to mention I was leaving behind the life I had known for six months, to finish grad school in Syracuse, NY. But Ibanker was there for me during this time, in which I was pretty upset. We emailed then texted and met up a couple times in New York. Then when I actually moved here for my internships he was there. I didn't know many people besides him and it could be lonely. And he was fun--he lavished me with praise and took me out for wild nights. He had a lifestyle and background with which I was unfamiliar. He was charming, successful and unlike anyone I had ever dated. Throughout our whole affair, he would always swoop back in at the last minute to get me caught up again, even when I had given up on him.
I missed this, and of course him. I wondered who he was seeing and constantly poured through his friends' facebook pictures looking for clues. I had gone through all the albums I could find of his Hamptons house, to which I had been "invited' but not really. So I was basically acting like a complete fucking pyscho and I was sick of it. The madness needed to stop. I took it as a sign when the Croatia guy mentioned a reunion before he moved away. This could not happen without first making amends.
I finally sent a similarly worded email to him. An hour later I received a response from him along the same lines as Mason's except for one thing--it contained a question. Rhetorical or an invitation for discussion. I of course took it as the latter, as I had come this far. This has resulted in a series of very short, yet friendly, emails back and forth, which is still ongoing. Obviously nothing will come of this except for me maybe being mildly pissed off when he inevitably stops responding. But I feel that a weight has been lifted. I can now walk, not scuttle, by his office and I've stopped imaging the scenario for running into him at every place I go. New York is no longer the city of the Ibanker, or any other asshole equivalent. It is finally now my own.
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