Handling Rejection by Getting Rejected

There's few awesome things in the world that Dr. House, M.D. didn't say better and say first.

Oh, not too long ago I wrote a post for this pretty fly honey over at Something She Dated. So this is just a repost, I suggested you head over to her diggs and check it out there. Or, if you're a lazy piece of shit like me, continue to reading. 

I'm a sucker for punishment, which is why I like it rough and tend to date women who take lots of steroids or participate in Mixed Martial Arts (or MMA to you educated and in-the-know types). If they kicks me in the beans, that's cool; if they call me dirty names like pencil dick or Susan I'm also fine with that. The more demeaning the mo' betta, in my opinion.

However, being a sucker for punishment comes at a cost, sometimes. Sometimes it's hard to know when to give in and walk away. What I'm referring to is fighting the good fight to win a special someone over. Sometimes that special someone thinks you're a good for nuthin', nobody, ass-face. And that's it. There's very little one can do to turn the tide of that opinion. So what does one do, when handling rejection? Well, children of the corn, I'll help you with that.

There was this gal I was in to. I found her on a dating site. We went out for a date, had a reasonably good time and when I drove her back to her car, I tried to kiss her only to find her cheek. The one on her face, unfortunately. I was let down obviously, but she replied “Hey, look, I had a lot of fun, let's do this again.” I said that sounded like a good idea.  However, I was going to leave the ball in her court. If she really wanted to hang out with me, then she could make a move. And make a move she did.

We went out for dinner, just the two of us and then we met up with a couple of her friends for drinks afterward. I met one friend of hers that night, a very nice gal, who insisted that this girl I was going out with (let's call her Wilma) was very much into me and that I had to keep on trying. That was interesting, I thought. As we pull up to Wilma's apartment, I tried again for a kiss, what I got was a quick one-armed hug and she said “later man, I'll call you this week.” Hmmmm. Thus far, I'm batting 0 for 2. No bueno.

It would take some time for me to try at romancing this girl again. Several months actually. During that time I dated other gals and what have you. It was one night out with Wilma and her bestie that I was again told “Dude, wtf? Why haven't you made a move on Wilma? She REALLY likes you!!!” Well, that was news to me because that's not the vibe I got. However, by this time, I was so wrapped up in this woman that I needed a definitive answer; I needed to know and I could no longer wait, otherwise, I was going to cut something off of my body and send it to her.

That day of reckoning came a week later. We went out for a drink and that's when I “manned-up” and told the woman how I felt and that I needed to know where she was at… So let me give you the following options for what may have happened, and you choose which one you think it was:

• She sat there silent for a few minutes and finished her pint of Guinness in two gulps
• She grabbed my hand and said, “I was wondering when you were going to tell me that!”
• She told me to fuck off and called me a loser dick faced platypus.

If you guessed the first option, you'd have been right. If you guessed that I'd rather she went with option three, that would also be correct.

I got a non-answer from her; and that, my friends, was that. I tried and I didn't succeed. But I was satisfied with that because there would be no guessing that this girl liked me or not. She didn't like me in that way. Period. But at least I tried. And you know what? I rarely thought about it, only recalling what happened in my stories of failure. Heh. That was about five years ago. Last, year, at a party, a good buddy of mine, who was close to that situation confided to me that Wilma told him something in confidence. What he revealed was that she liked me as a friend, but just didn't like me “in that way.” By that time, it didn't matter; but it was good to get something of an “official” reason.

Long story short: The best way to handle rejection, is to get rejected. Most never try and, thus, never get rejected.