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Dear Breakup Girl,

What in the hell did I do wrong? There is a woman I have been platonically involved with since July. For Valentine's Day I spent 25 hours putting together a gift that was actually more of a spoof than a pass. She doesn't get in touch until Thursday and she seems cool with it. Friday night we go out and long about midnight she initiates intimacy in a big way. In short, I woke up in her bed. Unfortunately, she pulls this alcohol blackout line, tells me that she doesn't remember a thing. She doesn't blame me for the sex happening because I couldn't have known how intoxicated she was. But, it isn't going to happen again. She had five beers and two Bloody Marys between 8PM and 2 AM. I've seen her drink more then that at lunch.

But I am ripping my guts out over a situation that should never have happened and I am afraid I have lost her as a friend as well as a lover. But mostly, when we were in bed she made some disclosures about how long she had been thinking about us as a couple, and that the whole reason she came back to a bad job in this town was to have the opportunity to engineer us into bed. Not the same story she told by morning light. So, was I that bad? Not according to our pillow talk in the night.

I have not had the best luck with women and I have been damn gun-shy for the last couple years. If this relationship goes south, I am going to say to hell with it and become a hermit on a South Seas island, with appropriate perimeter defense and a damn big Komodo Dragon for a guard dog. Why do women have to be so damn complicated? And why do they have to hurt men so deeply when all we want is a quiet, decent relationship? No weird, no complications, just a simple one on one relationship that doesn't cause ulcers? Just bloody asking.

-- John

Dear John,

Bloody hell! Oh, John. Hate to say it, but I'm not 100% sure this gal's gonna come through for you, no. However, for me to say you had done anything "wrong," I'd have to be looking through hindsight-colored glasses, like the way you see The Sixth Sense the second time and say, "OOoohh." I mean sure, if you gave me some more foregoing details, I might be able to pluck out some warning signs, but ... who knows? She'd been giving you enough to go on, so you went. Then she changed course. Twice. Suddenly and unpredictably. Who knew?

More useful: What now, and what next? Well, first of all, let me advise you that your letter could well have been written by a woman. To the point of cliche, in fact. This is not a woman thing. It's a People Who Don't Know What They Want, and the People Who Want Them thing. So while I completely understand that your South Seas itinerary is an accurate -- and fair enough -- read on the climate of your raw and frustrated feelings at this time, please don't "go there" in any lasting or real sense of the phrase. Because the perimeter defense will work, if you know what I mean. And not that any of us is a complete genius at interpreting dating flares, but the more you hide, the less "practice" you'll get doing so for next time, and/or for the time.

Another suggestion: make sure the next one who gets past the dragon comes 'round romantically in some way before she comes 'round and, like, upstairs to your bedroom. Shy is totally fine, John, but eight months is a long time to tread water (and  25 hours is a long time to arts-and-craft) for someone who may or may not be showing signs -- all along -- of wanting to take things to the next level.

In any case, John, believe you me ... well, remember what I said about how the gender roles could be reversed here? In your last paragraph, you are actually talking about -- verrrrry stereotypically, anyway --  "what women want." I can practically guarantee that there's some fine babe out there, half-packed for Babelthuap, with a damn big kitty cat for a guard dog, who'll say, "...quiet, decent relationship!? Where in bloody hell have you been all my life!?"

Love,
Breakup Girl

 
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