Wednesday, May 12, 2010

GED, the Meltdown


(photo credit: my new friend in Paris, and fellow singleton blogger, Man-shopper)

When NM and I were planning our European vacation, Green-Eyed Dutchman (GED) had made another appearance and was, for the time, behaving quite attentively. Within a few weeks of our plane reservations, however, the unexplained-frustrating-depressing silence commenced. At first, of course, I didn't know the silence would only be broken by a 5-minute phone call two months later, and so initially, I was optimistic. That rapidly drained away with each passing week, but I did realize that I might be going to Amsterdam under very different circumstances than I had originally intended. And of course, that came to pass, and I was determined to enjoy the city regardless.

But it wasn't always easy. In fact, I found myself thinking of GED and both missing him and angry at him for how he completely dropped the ball.

In Paris, Irish Parisienne asked me if I would call him once I got to Amsterdam. I said no. Then she said she'd completely understand if I did, wanting to get an answer for his disappearance and closure for the relationship. I appreciated her support, and her words almost acted as permission for me to make the call. Because of course I was curious as to why someone would act so incredibly inconsiderate, especially given our original friendship and years of knowing each other.

So I did call and left him a voicemail letting him know I was in Amsterdam. I heard back from him the night before Queen's Day via email, saying he wasn't in the city but would call me the next morning. I finally got a text message from him late that afternoon saying he had gotten into the city. His next text message was 3 hours later, saying he had only just received my reply and obviously the networks were inundated with data. I let him know the hotel I was staying at by text, voicemail and email, and reminded him when I was leaving. And, as has become aggravatingly typical, I got no response.

A couple days after I returned to NYC, I got an email. Here are the highlights (and my thoughts):
"I feel like an idiot..." Good, you should.
"I was just too indolent to put more efforts in finding you..." Apparently.
"I am sorry Em" Too little, too late.
"You deserve so much more than the way I have treated you." I agree.

At least at this point, I'm not taken by surprise or devastated. I'm actually completely fine with closing this chapter and moving on. And that's a really great place to be, especially with this particular man.

6 comments:

Unknown said...

Don't worry GED, she's just not that into you either.

jman said...

Like I said, regardless of whatever baggage or personal issues he may have (and it makes you wonder if this is why he is divorced), his biggest crime is that he was careless with your feelings. I guess sometimes we have to accept that it's only in the movies that we get a nice and neat closure. Glad you did not let it interfere with your enjoying the lovely city of Amsterdam. I hope you won't let it put you off visiting it in future - it is a great place even if it is almost impossible to get a decent glass of wine!

grandad says said...

Erm, I thought it was all over last time?

Anonymous said...

Oh,my lovely Emily..why do you waste your time on 'Avenues' that are simply not going anywhere? If you and he HAD made a 'go of it' I can tell you for certain it wouldn't have lasted..sorry,Em,this is how it comes over each time you post about him. :(

Aunty Norma.xxx

Emily said...

EdamameMommy: exactly!

Jman: True, Amsterdam is better for beer than wine. I'll probably visit again sometime, but the next few trips to Europe I'll probably explore other cities.

Grandad, aka Daddy: Yes, but I couldn't help but think of him when I was there.

A. Norma: I'm not wasting any time. Just blogging my thoughts and experience from my trip.

Anonymous said...

Very charming behavior. Very charming indeed. At least you closed this chapter!

I've got a guy who only gets in touch with me about every six months but is completely silent in between. Haven't figured out why, but I'm pretty sure that he has an alarm set on his iCal app to go off every six months. It's like clockwork. Baffling.