The Head-Scratching When You Realize You Broke Up Before the First Date

A big reaction to a small bump in the road

I used to view Murphy’s Law as negative.

Used to.

Until now.

The idea that if anything can go wrong it will certainly doesn’t lend itself toward being pleasant. So, we lament over bad luck.

We blame Murphy’s Law.

For years.

But what if the adage is misunderstood?

Is it possible that Murphy with his doom-sounding law is a blessing in disguise?

Recently, I met a man.

Everything clicked.

We shared common interests in both our personal and work lives.

Ahh. He is tall and handsome.

Our conversation flowed with smiles and laughter. Hope was palpable, simmering under the surface yet electrified beyond containment.

Excitement overflowed from our hearts and shooting stars flickered from our eyes.

So much promise.

He wasn’t dissuaded by my confessions of being a slow mover.

I’ve never been one to jump in too fast, even more so now because of Ian, my grandson. I went as far as to describe myself as gun-shy.

“Not only do I understand, but I agree. You have to be cautious.”

His words were music to my ears.

We anticipated quality time together to learn even more about each other.

Enter Murphy’s Law.

This damn law clings to my back and follows my every life move. Tracking me, waiting and lurking until it springs into action to thwart any romantic joy.

I needed to leave Florida before the juicy seed of a relationship could take root. A dire family emergency beckoned.

Just up and leave.

I have to go away? But, but, but, we just met. My brain wrestled with reality.

His compassion and support warmed my heart and eased my mind.

“It’s not like you’ll be gone forever.”

His patience with my circumstances was clear.

But still, damn you Murphy’s Law.

Interesting things happen in the face of adversity.

Character, integrity, and ego reveal themselves.

A microwave plowed over my slow-moving preheating style.

Every message contained a wrap-around of how perfect we are together. Hearts, roses, and kissy face emojis decorated his words in growing abundance.

Speedy Gonzalez forgot about my comfort zone.

Honest to God, we did have a lot in common.

Common ground crumbles under the dismissal of differences, though.

My gun-shy mentality resurged with his ever-increasing love bombing.

A full-blown relationship was created without my input. He told me of travel plans, playing sports with Ian, and his friends christening our wonderfulness together — all based on his portrayal.

I’d never met his friends.

What happened to ‘getting to know each other slowly?’

Oddly, none of this was insurmountable in my mind.

Yet.

As a huge fan of face-to-face dialogue, I hoped we could gel this out upon my return.

The foundation of a connection existed. Surely the ship could get back to an even keel with little effort.

And then I did the unthinkable.

I sent a message that he apparently didn’t like.

I wouldn’t know for sure — couldn’t know, or even make an educated guess.

I assure you my text to him contained nothing dramatic. No small children or puppies were hurt in my message.

If he took issue with my words, it couldn’t be more than a small bump in the road.

He went from texting a couple of times each day for weeks in rain or shine, monsoon or locust swarm, to nothing.

Crickets.

Not a question, not a confirmation, not a peep of his thoughts regarding my benign message. The house of cards collapsed.

I refused to chase him especially if he was sulking needlessly.

On the 10th day of being iced out, I received his text that said he was sorry he hadn’t responded but work was busy.

Work was busy.

His message smelled of regret and second-guessing of his natural knee-jerk reaction to ice me out.

Ghosted.

Ten days. From 100mph to dead in the water. Because of work.

A job that never interfered prior.

And he thought I’d believe that.

I didn’t. I kindly let him know my thoughts and even wished him a happy birthday that neared.

Not a word since.

Avoidance much?

Interesting things happen in the face of adversity.

I politely declined to buy the excuse he was selling. If small lies to avoid emotional discussions are acceptable to him then you know the doozies will be, too.

My heart hurt as the fizzled dream and its light extinguished.

I envisioned one-on-one time upon my return to pack up my apartment. I am buried under pressing responsibilities. But I would have made time and room for him.

A glass of wine, a reconnect, and a heart-to-heart on logistics.

He didn’t let me share that idea.

Ghosting can be a gamble.

Did he expect me to grovel and beg for his return communication? Gameplay is for kids.

Why wouldn’t he just tell the truth or offer more of an explanation? Is dialogue dead these days?

Speak up and ask questions. If you think you care, then act like it.

How do you react to the smallest bump in the road?

Character, integrity, and ego reveal themselves.

I dodged a bullet.

What I thought to be a potentially devastating life interference morphed into a blessing.

It’s all how you look at it.

If he can’t handle a small bump in the road, then I can’t handle our non-relationship relationship.

I am confident that I will not live with mistruths, cold shoulders, ghosting, or being iced out.

My choice.

Good to know now.

I guess Murphy’s Law isn’t so bad after all.

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A personal message of thanks:

Many of my subscribers know that I continue to stay in NJ to care for my mom as she fights the good fight against lymphoma.

I appreciate your patience while I navigate this new chapter in life.