Reason 16: Sometimes they forget that holidays are not reality

had been going out with her boyfriend for a few years. I am an Australian and had met Reason 16, an American, while travelling through the UK. I was on a two year visa and was nearing the end of it, so at it’s conclusion I extended my stay by applying for a de facto extension on Reason 16’s visa.

It came to the time when my man was told that he was going to have to go to Hong Kong as part of a three-month international secondment. Reason 16 was quite reluctant to go (not wanting to be parted from me), but after some hefty convincing from my end, he agreed, on the proviso that I would come over to visit part way through his three-month stay. To be honest, I thought that this was a fabulous idea because it meant that I could go home for a holiday, stop off in Hong Kong on the way over and back, thereby killing two birds with one stone – a long overdue visit home, and a holiday with my boyfriend in Asia. I was getting her Hong Kong shopping list together before he had even packed his bags!

For the first two weeks, Reason 16 called every day to say hello and see how I was going, and while he was gone, my group of friends ensured that I was kept busy so that loneliness didn’t set in. After the second week though, Reason 16 was a littl odd on a few phonecalls, but I was assured by friends that things are always a little bit different over a long distance via telephone, as they are with e-mail and text messages, because there was the absence of facial expressions and body language that are both such important parts of our communication processes. This sounded good to me!

Part-way through week four of Reason 16’s 3-month absence, I took a bad phonecall. Reason 16 rang me to tell me that he had changed his mind about my visit. He told me that he didn’t want to see me in Hong Kong and was having second thought about our relationship. I was devastated.

Apparently, Reason 16 was having too much fun in Hong Kong (clearly, more than he thought he was going to have), and due to the excess of female attention he seemed to be receiving, he said that he wasn’t sure if he wanted to continue on with ourr relationship. When pressed for more information he emphatically denied that there was anyone else, laughing (much to my frustration) that he had only been there for a few weeks, which certainly wasn’t long enough to meet a “someone else”.

A day or two later, I had amended my travel plans. Instead of waiting a further three weeks to go and visit, I changed my ticket so that I was leaving as soon as I coud (actually, I paid for another one, because my first one was a non-changeable ticket – more reason for fury, but that’s another story). I told Reason 16 this and was calmly informed that he didn’t want to see me in Hong Kong and that he wouldn’t be picking me up form the airport. I screamed at him that I didn’t know anyone else there and would walk the streets of Hong Kong looking for him if he wouldn’t come to the airport for me.

Reason 16 picked me up from the airport. He didn’t kiss me hello nor did he speak to me for the duration of the drive back to his company-provided serviced apartment. Eventually, I asked if he was going to speak to me at all throughout my stay and his response was, “I told you I didn’t want you here. I don’t even know why you came.”

I explained (in my calmest voice) that I had thought our three-year relationshipwas  worth the effort of saving and that I wanted to know what was going on. Reason 16 told me that nothing was going on, only that he had been having fun, meeting new people, going out a lot and generally living life. I reminded him that this life wasn’t reality and that I was glad he was having a great time but that like all good things, this too would eventually come to an end, after which he would be returned to the UK to resume his life there – was he really desperate to destroy the life they had had together?

As the tears and arguments flowed, there was a knock on the door. Reason 16 opened it to find the apartment concierge standing there with a piece of paper in his hand. I was out of view and heard the concierge tell Reason 16 that his “lady friend” had been around looking for him and had left a message for him downstairs. Reason 16 calmly thanked the concierge for his trouble and closed the door.

Um…?  “What the hell was that? Who is the lady friend? What is going on? I think now is a great time for you to be honest with me!”

Reason 16 answered that there wasn’t a lady friend – just a friend he had been working with – but that he had to make a phone-call. He told me to wait where I was, as he would be right back. “You are going to walk out of this discussion and our three-year relationship for someone you work with?” But Reason 16 was already gone.

That was when I noticed the piece of paper left by the concierge. It sat on the kitchen bench and it had on it the lady friend’s number. I rang. “Hi,” I asked calmly, “is this Taryn?”

The devastating response came back, “Yeah. Who’s this?”

I took all of my frustration of Reason 16 out on this girl (I’m not proud) as I screamed, “I have been with him for three years. I am his girlfriend. Thank you for destroying three years of my life.”

The woman at the end of the line tried to explain that dear Reason 16 hadn’t mentioned anyone important in his life and that she didn’t know what Iwas talking about. I hung up in tears of frustration.

When Reason 16 made his way back to his apartment, he was irate, ranting and raving, yelling at me, “Taryn said you called her. What the hell did you say?”

I couldn’t even speak. I was wild. I figured that if he was going to omit facts, then I could play this game too. Reason 16 raged at me, his face only centimetres from mine, “Get out of this apartment. I am going to work. You had better not be here when I get back. And when I get back to the UK, you had better be out of the house. I never want to speak to you again. I can’t believe you’ve come here and done this to Taryn and I.” He left, slamming the door, cursing me under his breath.

Taryn and I? TARYN AND I?! So there was something. I let out a scream. And that was the end. Almost..

A month later, I was back in the UK, collecting my things and packing up my belongings in the house I had shared with Reason 16. Before returning to the mother country, I had decided that she would do him a favour by removing of a number of items from the house – not wanting to cause him further distress by looking at them and remembering her. That was how a number of my friends came across a flat panel TV, a play-station, a bed, a lounge suite and a washer/drier. And this time, it was the end.

Reason 13 – they get in first

My friend had convinced me to get into that good old medium of modern day meeting – a dating website. It took her about a year to convince me it was worth trying and after yet another night out on the turps with nothing to show for it but a raging hangover, I decided I would give it a go. I got my profile organised and wrote (what I thought was) some humourous prose around my interests, hopes, aspirations and favourite pastimes (kind of along the lines of, “what’s your favourite colour? blue”, etc, etc).

I let the messages come in and to be honest, the standard of incomings wasn’t so high. Not that I am particularly fussy, but the trannies, the men with an inkling for bondage, S&M, and auto-erotic stimulation, and the men who would scare small children got a wee bit tiresome. Nonetheless, I persisted.

And finally, like a ray of sunshine through the stormy clouds, Mr 13 appeared. He was gorgeous. And witty. And my age. And he had a job. And he seemed so.. so normal. Mr 13 and I emailed back and forth a few times. I would actually look forward to getting home to check my emails (dating sites not being allowed at my conservative financial company!) to find something from him.

Finally it came time to meet and we arranged to catch up over lunch one day. I was so excited. When 13 walked towards me, I saw that he carried a little more weight than his photos. But that was ok. He was still a very nice looking man. We greeted a little awkwardly and he sat down. And the tooth-pulling, paint-drying began. The hour dragged as if it were ten hours and the conversation was more stunted than a smoking mother’s foetus. I couldn’t wait to get away. Luckily, being a working day, I had the excuse of a VERY important meeting I needed to rush back for.

I made my polite goodbyes, thanked Mr 13 for taking the time to meet me, and left. The door of the cafe had not even closed behind me when my phone told me I had a SMS. I took it out and read: ” I don’t want to pursue anything further. Don’t call me again.”

What? WHAT?!?!?!? How dare he?! He of THE most boring personality I have EVER had the misfortune to come across doesn’t want to see fabulous, amazing ME? Grrrr!!

Reason 9 – because sometimes you only want them for one night, and they can’t even give you that

After being the recipient of surely the most, heartless, unceremonious dumping technique ever invented by cruel mankind (text-tastic Reason 8), I set off on a mission. To get as hideously drunk as possible, and to do so in as short a time as possible. My good friend chardonnay assisted in this task as well as a few trustworthy girlfriends who assured me not to worry about my ex, Steve. After all, they reasoned, Steve was a good-for-nothing-nobody who would be regretting his decision in the very near future (NB: He didn’t, a friend told me he shacked up with the next woman he met and as far as I know, they are still together, but cè la vie). Besides, they reminded me, I was an empowered independent woman who could do a whole lot better. 

A whole lot better turned out to be just over on the other side of the bar, and so, aided wholly with Dutch courage (in this case in the form of nastily cheap house white wine) I grinned coyly, until he approached to introduce himself. His names was Steve, and while one may assume that I would have laughed ironically and turned on my wobbly heel at the very point his name slipped past his lips, I didn’t. No, actually I spoke to him for about a good ew hours, before he suggested we “go back to mine for coffee”. And he meant mine, not his. And I know he didn’t really mean coffee. But, having just painfully finished (or had finished) an eighteen month relationship, and having never experienced a “one-night stand” before at the age of 34, AND having three girl friends nod and wink surreptitiously as I gave them a querulous look, I agreed. And we left. Back to mine.

And so it goes. Steve and I were kissing at the door, my blood and the wine that accompanied it was racing and sure enough, surprise, surprise, we ended up in bed, making mad, passionate, drunken love. He was an energetic lover, and the fifteen or so minutes he lasted were sweaty, sexy and somewhat satisfying. Afterwards, as I lay back contemplating whether this was the best I was going to get from here on in, Reason 9 leaned over and whispered gently into my ear, “just so you know, I can’t stay tonight”.

I sat up on one elbow, looked into his eyes and asked, “why not?”

“I have to get home,” he whispered, “my wife needs the car to take the kids to Sunday school in the morning.”            

Nonetheless, Reason 9, has put me off of men of the name Steve for eternity, although the sight of him naked, with all of his clothes in his arms or on the floor of the elevator around him as he begged to be let back in to the house to at least get dressed was memorable… and rather sobering.

Reason 7 – sometimes they need no explanation

This one is enough to turn any woman off men for life – with a few PerezHilton embellishments of course!