Go Jersey, Go Home!

Obviously things with Jersey came to a screeching halt and sitting down to write about it was difficult. Not only because I just housed a bunch of tacos and because I'm still recovering from the weekend. But because I'm disappointed in myself for ever even entertaining this idiot. I knew the whole time that I was seeing him (2-3 months) that I wasn't interested and by the end this apathy had hemorrhaged into a strong distaste. He started out as a bit of a novelty--he was unlike anyone I had dated and we had history, since we had met so long ago. For some reason, the story of how I met someone can outweigh negative qualities for me. Plus he was very persistent--it's hard to refuse nice dinners and rides in Range Rovers. Plus it was convenient, since he lived right near my work. Sleepovers were easy and he seemed very attracted to me.
For awhile I was able to look over some of the things I didn't like. Mainly the fact that he was a Jersey bro. He had lived in NYC for four years but knew basically nothing about it. He didn't know the different neighborhoods, the cool bars, etc. He never spent any time there because he was so obsessed with NJ. Lame. And despite having so much money, he was not very cultured. He had never been to Europe and ate like shit. He also made a big show of signing the bill at dinners, so that I could see the total, which I'm sure Daddy was footing. He was a whiny little bitch as well. He spent one dinner miserable and complaining about how working 6 hours a day for his father in Jersey was difficult because of all the traffic driving back to Manhattan at 3pm. Wah wah, poor Jersey!
Another thing that gets to me, is that I realized basically our whole "relationship", with a few exceptions of course, was going out to dinner, then going back to his place, smoking weed and hooking up. Now every once in awhile that is fine by me, but all the time? No thanks. Towards the end I was refusing to smoke but he still would, which is a red flag in my opinion. Also the fact that he laid it on so thick in the beginning (calling me all the time, saying how much he liked me, introducing me to his sister) just didn't seem genuine. I saw this as bullshit but also had an unsettling feeling. Little things were coming out, which at the time I didn't pay much attention to, because I frankly didn't care enough. I was suspicious that he was seeing someone else, but I did nothing because I couldn't prove it and I wasn't going to be making this kid my boyfriend so what did it matter. But I realize now that I should never let someone get away with that, because I deserve better. And looking back now it was clear he was definitely seeing someone else. It started with the girl's clothing item, which he claimed his sister left behind when she stayed with him, as well as the feminine shower products. He never left anything in his bathroom trash, which he blamed on OCD. He received a call from a girl named Julie, which he didn't answer. And my suspicion was pretty much confirmed, when I snagged his phone once while he was in the bathroom and saw that he was also texting this Julie. When I questioned him about whether he was seeing other people, he was very concerned and sincere and swore he wasn't. The sneaky bastard was a good little actor.
So unlike the condom incident, I decided I would play it cool. Despite all the signs, I had no reason to not believe he was telling the truth. I also think part of me just didn't care and the other half really didn't want to know what was going on. We weren't exclusive and if I had the chance, I would do the same thing. I let it go, until--he started cancelling on me. I had moved into Manhattan, and my neighborhood is much cooler than Hell's Kitchen, where he lives. Stuff was happening and the couple times I invited him to my hood and out with my friends, he cancelled at the last minute. He had also bailed when I asked him to set up some shit for me when I moved in. Enough was enough. I was going to ignore him until he called me a couple days after the last cancellation. Here's what went down:
I missed his call and called him back.
He answers- "Hey, I'm at the gym. I'll call you tomorrow".
Me- "Just call me back when you are finished"
Him- "I can't, I'm going out"
Me- "Just call me back. It won't take long"
Him- "Can't"
Me- "Fine, I'll tell you now. This isn't going to work"
Him- "Uhh that's what I was going to tell you"
Me (laughing)- "Oh really, any particular reason for that?"
Him- "Uhh we are just going in different directions. Do you have reasons?"
Me- "I have plenty"
Him- "Want to share?"
Me- "No. Bye."--I hang up.

That's that. We of course haven't spoken since, he put me on a limited profile on facebook, I removed him, no big loss. I am still slightly annoyed with myself for dating a Jersey bro in the first place and for letting it go on for so long, but I guess that's water under the bridge (and tunnel). So go Jersey, go hard? I'll pass.