The nice guy card

Today I let "J" go. This was after three emails, one date, a few texts, and a phone conversation. After marrying someone I tried to make myself love and feel passion for, if the phone rings and I dread talking to the person on the other end of the line, it's time to say goodbye.

This gets harder when you think you should be with someone because the play the nice guy card. My ex was certainly that way. I married him for many reasons: 1) I was a born again Christian at the time and thought he was the one God had for me, 2) His lack of intense emotion was a breath of fresh air after my bipolar and schizophrenic boyfriend who had been my first love, 3) I had a hard childhood and wanted to create a new life for myself. I used my husband to feel complete.

I walked down the aisle wishing the photographer loved me. We had been close friends for years and I had watched him date my two best friends. Watching him flirt with one of them just hours before my wedding, I went ahead with my marriage because I knew that he would never be available to me. I didn't consider the fact that it would be better to wait for someone else that I had as intense feelings for as I did for the photographer. Instead I walked down the aisle hoping that love would grow after we said "I do."

Naturally, the love did not grow. And it turns out the nice guy card didn't work in my favor. The definition of nice guy seemed to be not saying anything when something bothered you but instead being passive aggressive and holding in your anger. It meant insisting on getting the car when your spouse accidentally parked in a tow zone and pretending you weren't annoyed that you had to clean up her "mess." It meant that you were never wrong, and that she should feel lucky to be with you. It meant that you sacrificed your own happiness for hers, in a sort of maryrly way, of your own free will, and did it because it made you feel good about yourself.

When we got divorced I met my best friend -- a gay male. After seven years we have had countless fights, some of them turning into screaming matches and ending in tears and apologies. At first this display of emotion scared me. Later I learned that such fights were normal and even healthy for a relationship, especially if the fighting ends in mutual understanding and support. Since meeting him and being comfortable with him right away, and since my marriage to someone who never fought with me left me so unsatisfied, I take my gut very seriously. If I have any feelings of remorse over this person being the "right" one for me, I break it off. If the person plays the nice guy card, I dismiss them. Now, this does not mean opening doors or paying for a meal. Rather, it means someone who talks down about other men and says how good and sweet they themselves are in comparison. In this case the truth was revealed when J proclaimed that is aunt was a manipulative bitch. Sure, even before I picked up the phone I was ready to hang it up again, but this statement made me know my gut was leading me in the right direction. Men are human, no one is perfect, but it's the ones who think they are perfect that won't own up to their own actions.

I wanted to like J because he didn't mind my fibromyalgia. I wanted to like him because he liked me, and because we shared a lot of the same interests and tastes. I wanted to like him because he took me for a walk around my neighborhood and showed me things I hadn't seen before. But my mom didn't listen to her gut when my stepdad yelled at the salesperson while showing her an engagement ring. Years later that was a big warning sign. Because of her facial deformities, she felt that she didn't deserve love and that her chance of finding it limited. I want someone who doesn't want to save me. I want someone who knows and admits he has a jerky side, and who feels privileged to be with me instead of playing the nice guy card. Because, let's face it, we all have crosses to bear.