in which aoife finishes what she started . . .
okay, so the pete thing . . . let me start by saying i hate being set up. almost more than i hate having to make the first move. and when it came to pete, both were the case. my first clue should have been that he was too shy to really talk to me, or spend time with me outside of zimmy. my second clue should have been that i had to get a few shots of whiskey in me and lay my head on his shoulder before he even showed interest in me. he seemed like he would work. . . of course, all the others did too, but the point is that he seemed like he was a really good fit. we liked most of the same movies, many of the same actors, some of the same music, many of the same tv shows, and he liked broadway stuff . . . the problem came when we began discussing life-type things . . . like the fact that despite being discharged from the air force in the middle of basic training because of a back injury, he's very much still an uber-soldier. don't get me wrong, i have no problems with military personnel; one of my friends is a marine and one of my best friends is an army medic. the problem is that he is incredibly patriotic and barely talks about anything but guns and military shit. which, i gotta be honest, doesn't really interest me all that much.
problem number two: he hates kids. like, feels the need to mention it every time there are little kids even on tv kind of hates them. and i . . . in the line so eloquently stated in the movie "juno," i was born to be a mother. i absolutely adore my sister's children; they are the lights of my life. and i have an unexplained urge to take care of everyone around me. and apparently, i've been nurturing an protective since i was little (so say my mother and former day care provider).
problem number three: in three weeks, he never got comfortable. any time we were sitting on the couch together, he had to have an arm around me or be stroking me in some way. he couldn't just sit next to me with a hand on my knee or something. he also constantly had to be talking or kissing me or have a movie on; he couldn't just sit in comfortable silence.
problem number four: he didn't listen. he was a horrible kisser, which can usually be remedied, but he wouldn't listen to me when i'd say that my mouth didn't open that wide. i told him at least five times, and he still tried to eat my face off.
problem number five: he didn't know when to stand up to me and when to back down. when i get stressed out, i tend to back away from people inadvertently simply because i don't want to yell at them. the friends who really know me know that that is the last time to leave me high and dry. in fact, that is the time to start bugging me to take care of myself. pete took that as a sign that i didn't want to see him, that i didn't want him around, and didn't like him. so he started avoiding me. . . and so, another one bites the dust.
problem number two: he hates kids. like, feels the need to mention it every time there are little kids even on tv kind of hates them. and i . . . in the line so eloquently stated in the movie "juno," i was born to be a mother. i absolutely adore my sister's children; they are the lights of my life. and i have an unexplained urge to take care of everyone around me. and apparently, i've been nurturing an protective since i was little (so say my mother and former day care provider).
problem number three: in three weeks, he never got comfortable. any time we were sitting on the couch together, he had to have an arm around me or be stroking me in some way. he couldn't just sit next to me with a hand on my knee or something. he also constantly had to be talking or kissing me or have a movie on; he couldn't just sit in comfortable silence.
problem number four: he didn't listen. he was a horrible kisser, which can usually be remedied, but he wouldn't listen to me when i'd say that my mouth didn't open that wide. i told him at least five times, and he still tried to eat my face off.
problem number five: he didn't know when to stand up to me and when to back down. when i get stressed out, i tend to back away from people inadvertently simply because i don't want to yell at them. the friends who really know me know that that is the last time to leave me high and dry. in fact, that is the time to start bugging me to take care of myself. pete took that as a sign that i didn't want to see him, that i didn't want him around, and didn't like him. so he started avoiding me. . . and so, another one bites the dust.