About a month ago, I drafted a bunch of stories from an idea that has been dancing around in my head for years. I wanted someone to read them, but not someone I knew, so I put up an ad on Craigslist asking if anyone would be interested.

Many people responded. A few gave me some really helpful feedback and/or boosted my ego with praise. I kept corresponding with some of them, just for kicks. After all, I live alone, and sometimes I get lonely and bored of my own company. One day, I told one of them, a man, that I needed to get some work done on my car. It was making a weird screeching sound, and I didn’t know what to do.

The man told me that he was a mechanic, and he’d be happy to come down and take a look at my car. It seemed super nice, and I have no money, and we had been emailing for a few days (And that is not at all a legitimate reason to trust someone, Jesus), so I told him to meet me at my corner one afternoon. He was super, super socially awkward, but cute and endearing. He poked around my car. We went for a drive, but the screeching had gone away. It seemed like something had just been stuck under the car. But he jacked my car up and looked at all of the car bits and even hammered out a dent for me. It was all very nice and very unnecessary.

We had discussed that we both liked candy, so I had bought some chocolate and gummies to offer, as he had told me upfront that he refused to accept payment. I offered them to him, and he suggested we get lunch. As is clearly a pattern, I invited him in to hang out instead. We watched some Game of Thrones, and he was clearly flirting with me. We wound up spending the whole day together, and he spent the night, and then we spent the whole next day together.

The situation between us in bed was a disaster. He was extremely inexperienced. He didn’t understand the concept of foreplay, and, in the middle of things, I had to just stop.

“We both know that this is awful, right?” I said.

He agreed, and we stopped. But, to his credit, he actually talked to me about it, and asked what would make it better. Unfortunately, what I asked for – basic foreplay – was something he told me he was very reluctant to do. Definitely not at first, and maybe not ever. I tried to be understanding. But, I mean, when someone suggests that a fundamental part of sex is off the table, it’s kind of unreasonable to expect yourself to understand and accept it. And I’ve always felt that it’s disrespectful to be afraid of my lady bits. If you won’t get near them, you certainly don’t get to put your dick in them. I thought I could maybe be patient, though.

Over the next few days, we talked on the phone a lot. We planned for him to come down again that Wednesday, and we would go see the cherry blossoms at night.

I should make it clear that I know how abrupt that is. I can’t explain why he was so eager to jump into something with me, but I was willing to go along with it because it would fulfill my needs of male attention and company. I’m moving in a couple of months, and I’m really not looking for true love right now. Just some company. And he seemed like a really nice guy who was into me and wanted to give me lots of attention, which was pretty much just what I was looking for. So I let him be as relationship-y as he wanted. Maybe that makes me a horrible person. Maybe it makes me human. You can be the judge.

Anyway, on Wednesday afternoon, he called me. He had to work, he said, and couldn’t come down that evening. He expressed that he felt really bad and had really been looking forward to seeing me. Now, I really, really don’t like being canceled on. It’s a huge trigger for me, because it feels really disrespectful. Even though he wasn’t being disrespectful, and even though he had a legitimate reason to cancel, I got mad. I realized later that I was also obviously harboring a lot of resentment about his refusal to come near my lady bits. After we got off the phone, I sent a nasty text message saying that he would never satisfy me in bed. Whoops.

I’m a huge dick. I know it. I have nothing to justify that with.

But then I immediately calmed down, felt terrible, and apologized. I called him several times, but he didn’t pick up. That night, he called me back, livid. I understood, because I had been nasty. He made me apologize several times and then decided that he didn’t want to talk to me anymore, because I was abusive.

I actually pretty much understood. Abusive was a strong word, but I had been nasty, and he barely knew me. Why should he continue the relationship?

But then he kept texting me, telling me that it could have been something really good, and he was upset it didn’t work out. The first time, I told him that it was within his control to make things work out. Then I got tired of his tirades about my one nasty text message and his unwillingness to forgive my mistake that I had already apologized for several times. He wouldn’t let it go. He kept calling me abusive and telling me how horrible I was. Which actually is a symptom of a classic abusive man. So, I called this one as an even fuck-up, and we haven’t spoken since. Although I have received several more “I wish this had worked out” text messages.

In other words, dear readers, sometimes I can be a dick, too.