Another One Bites the Dust

A little-known fact about my life at the moment: Mysterious Guy and I have been seeing each other a little bit more than I have let on. Actually, although it was nowhere near exclusive, he and I have been in constant contact since before Halloween, and as much as I have decided about 400 times since then that I was going to end it, for some reason unbeknownst to myself and the gods of fate, I have allowed the relationship, as it were, to continue.

I always knew from day 1 that Mysterious Guy was never going to turn into anything major. There's always been an attraction between us, and I find him quite fascinating at times. He's brilliantly smart and has a dry sense of humor that, once I caught on to it, I rather enjoyed.

However, there are a million and one things that make him absolutely wrong for me. Let's see, there's his severe depression...that sometimes prohibit him from making simple plans, and that also prompt him to cancel plans at a moment's notice. There's his neo-con status...he's a gun-loving Obama-hater who doesn't believe in gay marriage. And he's obsessed with this. Like, to the point where it really freaks me out.

His social awkwardness was bad enough that i would never be able to introduce him to other friends...let's examine some of his finer moments:

-Upon telling him that my sister did not have breast cancer, his reaction was "That's good. Cancer's a real downer."
-His response to an email I sent him telling him I was free that night, if he was feeling spontaneous: "Calm down girl and take a cold shower. I'm in for the night."
-After not seeing each other for a few weeks, instead of greeting me with a hug, or a kiss, or anything resembling a sign of affection, he thought it necessary to tell me that I have really big teeth, and that he had never noticed them before.
-Before I ever met him (over 2 months ago) one of his cats had an accident on his bed, wherein he needed to dispose of the mattress and all his bedding. He has since been sleeping in a sleeping bag on his couch, and has no intention of purchasing a new bed, or bedding. And therefore is not capable of "entertaining" at his apartment. Or so he says.

Each and everytime, I am convinced that I am done, done, onto the next one. But something kept me there, whether it was that feeling of "well, it's better than being totally alone" or our insane physical chemistry, or what.

But tonight was definitely the last straw.

We had made tentative plans to meet at a local bar after I got out of a Sunday afternoon movie. I called to let him know I was heading to the bar, and he launched into one of his insane, paranoid rants. I told him he was a buzzkill and he should just get his ass over to the bar and have a drink before he spontaneously combusted. To which he started spewing more paranoid conspiracy shit...out of the blue...unsolicited...and a little creepy. My stomach started to hurt and I got that feeling of dread one gets when something doesn't feel quite right. He sounded insane.

I got really quiet. And he continued on with his rant. When it was over, he laughed, and turned into his normal self again...asking me if I instead wanted to come over to his place.

I had already started walking in the opposite direction, actually I think I might have been running, fast, somehow trying to outrun the creepy conversation that was following me no matter how hard I tried to get away from it. I told him it would be better if I just went home. He didn't sound surprised. He didn't try to talk me out of it. In fact, I think he might have ended the conversation with "next time you see the Chase logo, notice that it has a subliminal swastika in it. "

I thanked him for "enlightening" me yet again and hung up the phone. And removed his # from my contact list.

I am a lonely and crazy magnet. Does this mean that I, too, am lonely and crazy? I am beginning to wonder...