Having a Ball.

Last Monday, my roommate and I were ooing and aaing over the holiday assortment of treats that now grace the display case of Starbucks.

We settled on pumpkin spice lattes and a snowman cookie and then sat down to enjoy them.

It was your regular Monday: Siobhan had just gotten off of work and I had the day off. We were treating ourselves to an afternoon pick me up before our inevitable retire at home and all of a sudden, Siobhan received a text from her fiancee.

Her fiancee Nick, who works at a marketing firm that has NBC Bay Area as a client, had a few extra tickets to the Warriors game that tonight and as Nick also works at Oracle Arena, he had the tickets to spare.

Two tickets to spare to his fiancee and one very animated and fervent basketball fan who just so happened to have the day off from work.

What followed next was a blur. We raced home, threw on some Warriors swag (hard not to own any when you live in the Bay Area of the back to back champions), hopped in the car and drove to meet Nick in Lafayette.

As he works as an employee of Oracle, we scored free parking and despite having to wait a few hours until we were let into the arena, Siobhan and I passed the time excitedly talking about our luck at finding ourselves at Oracle Arena on a Monday night, about to watch a Golden State Warriors basketball game.

We were quite a sight to behold, Siobhan and I. I stood some 6ft6”, and my (shorter) roommate was hobbling next to me on crutches. But we waltzed around like queens, had our happy hour cocktail and then took our seats with hot dogs and fries in hand.

Turns out, our seats were in section 107, which had us down in the lower section near court side behind the basket. It was the closest I had ever been to the court and so I was an excited schoolgirl, drooling over these NBA All-Stars that were so close, beyond happy that my Monday night ended on a note like this.

They played the Memphis Grizzlies and won (naturally).

And it was just such an unexpected evening. There I was, a week away from moving back home, and I stumbled across this lucky opportunity to watch my favorite sport in person, up close and personal.

We had a ball (so to speak), and I’m forever reminded how splendid life really is.

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Let It Go.

Yesterday, I had brunch with one of the guys who had ghosted me.

After months of spontaneous crying and doubting my value over the way I was abandoned, I slowly but eventually healed and got over this cowardly boy that left me standing in the desert.

And now here I was, giving this kid a second chance over mimosas and Irish Coffees. An opportunity for him to apologize, explain himself, and a chance for me to share how I felt about what happened.

It was never my plan to see this boy again, but as I prepare the process of packing my things for a new adventure, I thought about my time here and still felt unsettled about how me and this guy had left off.

Or should I say, how he left me off.

So we began our “not date” (as he sternly made certain to share with the waitress) and he proceeded to make small talk, which mostly included him hogging the conversation.

At the end of the meal, I finally broached the topic of why he went MIA on me a few months ago and what follows are a slew of pathetic excuses.

First, he found he didn’t have “feelings” for me (despite him being the first to make a move).

Secondly, he thought I was moving too fast in the relationship. Remember, you’re talking about a girl who’s the most slow moving, pious, gentle gal out there (with a spicy spirit and only brought out on special occasions).

Thirdly, he apparently got so invested in his new job that a month went by before he even remembered about me, to which he said he “felt a little bad about” not communicating with me that he wasn’t interested.

He even had the audacity to say that he thought about me a few weeks ago. Oh? About what? He wanted to set me up with one of his friends.

*picture my mind being blown

“Is that weird?” he asked.

Again, picture my mind being blown.

Lastly, and this one is a hoot, he selfishly asked me if I was moving because of him. Ohhhh you wish.  

We finish the conversation, me sharing what I needed to say, and his departing words are, “call me if you ever need to vent!”

Well, I need to vent.

And instead of calling him up (which would be oh-so-funny), I came to you.

I certainly participate in a lot of bad dates, don’t I? Or “not dates”, according to this guy.

But man, it makes for such good copy, and on top of that, I’m continually learning and gaining knowledge about how to avoid such relationships in the future.

I can get with the fact that this guy didn’t feel attracted to me. I can even get with the fact that he wasn’t ready to be in a relationship and that being with me reminded him of that.

What I can’t get with is the fact that his method of communicating this to me was to not communicate at all. It took months later for him to even pull excuses out of his butt and tell me that, after I initiated a meet.

I once cared about this guy and we got along really well. There was a midnight walk along the Wharf where I found a lucky penny. There was the time he helped me wash my car and I bought us pizza. There was the time that he bought me dinner and took me to a movie. And for me, all those dates meant something. He meant something, you know?

But I found out that after all these months, I apparently meant nothing to him. Or, at least, I didn’t matter enough to be told that.

And I wonder why me, a “nice” girl, is the recipient of such cowardly and immature treatment.

But I don’t wonder because I already know. Nice people are easy to walk over because we don’t make a stink. We’re mature, we take it, and where most nice people can accept it and move on, I suffer because I can’t accept that answer.

Too many times, I have been treated poorly and unjustly and instead of continuing to be the “nice girl” that continues to be taken advantage of, I’m learning to stand up for myself, in a classy and mature way.

I didn’t want a confrontation with the fellow, all I needed was a chance for the air to be cleared, and for me to learn that nothing was wrong with me, but with him.

I think I knew all of these reasons all along, but it took some verbal confirmation and a visual to finally put closure to this relationship that had been haunting me for so long.

Ladies, and gents (because I know you’ve been recipients of being ghosted too), if you’re a nice girl like me, I encourage you to attempt to stand up for yourself and find closure in whichever way works best for you.

You can be nice and still stand strong as an assertive woman. Being nice doesn’t insinuate being a push over. By holding selfish people accountable for their actions and letting them know that what they do have consequences on others, there’s a chance that it sinks in and they change their behavior.

And heck, we could save a gal a LOT of tears. I don’t feel completely at peace with it because he still lied to my face, but I have enough of an answer to finally move on. 

I can let it go and look forward to meeting someone who will treat me fairly and have the courage to communicate when it matters most. 

In the meantime, I’ll be patient. There ain’t nothing wrong with being in the reliable company of yourself...

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