Can Someone Teach Me How To Break Up With A Guy?
I’m screwed in more ways than one.
In my post-divorce dating life, I thought I nailed the breakup process.
Men are egocentric. As long as you end things without bruising their ego, they’ll let you go quietly into that good night. If you simply say, “I’m just not that into you”, they’ll flip their shit.
The strategy is to go a few days of being incognito. Then I have canned text that works flawlessly, telling the guy that I didn’t mean to be off the grid but I reconnected with an ex-boyfriend and I couldn’t in good conscience continue seeing the guy (making it sound like I’m showing transparency as a courtesy to him). So far, every guy has been appreciative of this text.
The next recipient of my Breakup Text was Jonah.
I thought I could date both Jonah and Jeremy at the same time. But after an amazing night with Jeremy, I realized I couldn’t continue with Jonah. Even if things don’t progress with Jeremy, the way I feel for him is how I want to always feel when I start dating someone. I want the limerence, the butterflies, the excitement over the potential of a future.
Tonight wasn’t the night for the text. Jonah has planned all week to take me somewhere for my birthday as a surprise. I figured it’d be a semi-fancy restaurant, nothing elaborate. There’s no way I could end it before this dinner when he’s been excited all week.
I assumed it would be a standard middle-of-the-road kind of restaurant. I was wrong. And now I can’t bust out my breakup text.
It’s 3 pm and I’m hustling to get ready for my birthday dinner date. The reservation is at 5:45 pm and Jonah won’t tell me where we’re going. My knowledge of restaurants is limited to child-centric places like McDonald’s and Ruby’s Diner, so telling me wouldn’t have made a difference. I told him I’d arrive at his place by 4 pm.
Why the big deal about the time? Because Jonah placed a lot of emphasis on how naked we’ll get before dinner.
I’m in no mood for sex. Sex twice last night and once this morning with Jeremy was plenty fine by me. I’m not a fan of fucking multiple guys in a single day. But I need to be a good sport about tonight and feign interest.
Jonah is wonderful to me. He constantly texts me to say how much he likes me, he misses me, and how attractive I am. Unlike Jeremy, where I have no idea what he wants, Jonah has made his intentions very clear: he’s not fucking around when it comes to a long-term relationship. He wants a life partner.
I throw on a dress and contemplate not wearing a bra under it. That’s my MO when I’m trying to be sexy for a guy. But I didn’t wear one yesterday when hanging out with Jeremy and given the price I paid for these knockers, they must be preserved. Gravity is not any boob’s friend. I even sleep in a sports bra to protect them. Sorry Jonah, but I’m wearing a bra tonight with this dress.
Within a few minutes of arriving at Jonah’s, we’re in full makeout mode. I forget how much I can’t stand his in-between-scruff-and-a-beard look. Are there any women that genuinely enjoy the feeling of prickly fur against their lower face? I feel like I’m making out with steel wool.
We get naked and the boning begins. Jonah’s room is always ten degrees hotter than it should be; it’s a small apartment and he has A/C. Since I’m not super turned on, I want to get it over with. He’s great at sex but it doesn’t help that I’m all sexed out. I tell him to fuck me doggy-style and that he can cum on my ass. I figure that’s hot enough of a request that it’ll make him shoot his load sooner.
He does the deed and wants to cuddle. That includes constant licking of my nipples which annoys me because his hair keeps getting in my face. But I acquiesce because this is the role of the Faux Hot Chick.
Jonah checks the time and jumps in the shower. He tells me how beautiful I look in my dress. I think he tells me at least a dozen times how beautiful I look, which is flattering at first but after a while it was overkill.
The Uber arrives and whisks us off to the unknown location. Jonah chats with the driver and tells a story about a disagreement with a different Uber driver. It ended with Jonah getting kicked out and him throwing a bottle of water at the driver.
This is one red flag that comes up constantly with Jonah. While he seems patient and sweet with me, his stories about others end in confrontation. It gives me anxiety. How can someone repeat how much they want a life of zen when their interactions end in drama?
The surprise dinner is at a fancy schmancy restaurant inside the Waldorf Astoria. I went for drinks once with Vance but never the full meal. This place is pricey. P$R$I$C$E$Y$.
My chicken was $84. Eighty-four fucking dollars. That’s insane. The bread and appetizers were good (when you’re spending a small fortune, the chef constantly sends out free food that you didn’t order) but legit, that chicken wasn’t worth more than a pair of shoes.
The wait staff is on their A-game. The kind of service you’d expect in a movie. The waitress called us “Mr. and Mrs. Allen” and I wanted to sink into the ground. Jonah’s face lights up and I immediately say, “nope, just dating!”
Throughout the meal, Jonah is slathering more of the you-look-so-beautiful compliments. He tells me how much he likes me and makes his intentions clear that I’m his long-term goal. Unsure of how to reply, I give variations of “you spoil me so much”.
It dawns on me: this is Thomas 2.0.
Panic kicks in. Jonah tells me about his company’s annual Christmas party and how I’m going to be his date. He also told me that I’m to wear a red dress for it. Specifically, a “Christmas red” dress. Bro, I’m trying to get to the end of this dinner, not plan five months ahead.
When dinner is over, the waitress makes a generic hope-to-see-you-again-soon comment. Jonah replies, “Hopefully for an anniversary!”
The waitress counters with, “Or hopefully an engagement!”
While I’m sinking in my overly-plush seat, Jonah and the waitress are beaming with their excitement over my intended future.
As we Uber back to his place, with him buzzed purring about how beautiful I am and what a great pair we make, I’m thinking about Jeremy. Why can’t he be this interested in me?
Back at the apartment, it’s Sex Part II time. Jonah talks about how good we are at sex together and how we’re a good match. I have to give him props: he’s extremely sexual and quite good at the deed. Passion oozes out of his pores.
The week prior, during sex, Jonah gave me the look. It’s a look I’ve seen occasionally and only happens during sex. It’s when a guy looks at you like he’s been looking for water in a desert and you show up like a perky-boobed Evian bottle. It’s the look that men give me when they’re realizing they’re falling for me.
This doesn’t happen every time I have sex. I’m not that good. It took me a while to interpret that face, the words they say, and their demeanor after.
With that in mind, I try thinking of ways to end things with a guy who adores me and is ready to finally lavish attention (and money) on someone he deems worthy. Jonah is planning for us to head to Palm Springs next weekend. How on earth can I sort this out before then? Without looking like a dick who ditches a guy after a pricey date?
While I’m contemplating my strategy, Jonah is on repeat about us being great together and more physical compliments. I didn’t want sex, given that we gorged on loads of food. His workaround is to slyly keep getting me to be on top.
Fucking on top is a lot of work. If the guy is wide, that’s very little leverage for me as a chick when my legs are spread. It’s difficult to get the proper up/down/grinding cadence. I like it, but not the majority of the boning time. I need Jonah to step it up.
As the night wears on, Jonah alternates between a hard dick and me reviving him with my mouth. Been there, done that with someone else so I’m moderately annoyed. I know that he came with me hours prior so it’s not that I expect a guy over 50 to cum repeatedly in a day. But if a guy isn’t finishing then sex lasts forever and ain’t no one got time for that.
While Jonah is between my legs for the millionth time (he’s good but I’m never going to finish that way because I used sex toys alone throughout my marriage), I glance at the clock. It’s 10:30 pm. I want to go home.
Jonah seems hurt that I’m not spending the night. “I never assume that I can spend the night,” I tell him. After he pushes the topic further, I tell him that I’ve never slept at a guy’s house. It’s my moment of vulnerability but he’s having none of it.
“You can always sleep over. I want as much time as I can given how hard it is to meet up given your schedule.” Jonah tries to get sexy. “Then I can fuck you in the middle of the night and again in the morning.”
Awesome, there’s nothing I love as much as a guy who wants to bone even more after he didn’t cum.
Finally making my escape while thanking him profusely for the evening, he walks me to my car and I bail out. I feverishly check my phone for a text from Jeremy (a disappointingly short one).
And then it dawns on me: whatever happens with Jeremy, I forgot what it feels like to feel this. Even the guys I liked off the bat had glaring red flags. The only red flag I see is his divorce is relatively recent. Otherwise, I’m excited and eager to spend time with him.
For me, that’s a first. And that’s the feeling I want to have when I date. I’m tired of going on dates with guys who look good on paper but never leave me feeling giddy. As I drive home, I’m always disappointed or the red flags swirl in my head.
I want the rush and the excitement.
Time to strategize ending things with a guy who thinks everything is great, wants to be forever with me, and might get confrontational when I tell him. Why am I so bad at breakups?