Sometimes, one person’s wisdom is another’s “dumb”…and then there’s just “dumb.”
For instance, one time when I was in my late teens, there was this boy who apparently had a thing for me. I didn’t think much of it because he never said anything directly and besides, I thought he was more interested in my little sister, anyway. But, we made good friends and always had a laugh together. Then a few years rolled by and we somehow got into bed.
Anyhow, after “J” was done doing whatever it was he thought was some kind of natural act on me, without any kind of warning and to my absolute astonishment, he jumped up, slapped his clothes on, and BOLTED out the door! Granted it was the worst sex I ever had in my life and he couldn’t kiss worth a damn, but still…
It was like he dropped a briefcase in my bed or something.
So, I’m lying there, stark naked, with the door of my studio apartment wide open, completely stunned and feeling like a used piece of meat wondering, “What the hell was that?!” Soon, that changed to, “What did I do?” I felt gross and shocked and just all kinds of bad.
Over a week later, I get a phone call. “Hi! How ya doing? How’ve you been?”
I was dumbfounded. I looked at the phone as if I were on Candid Camera. “Are you kidding me?”
J seemed genuinely puzzled. “Why? What, what do you mean?”
I relentlessly ripped into him. “What the hell’s the matter with you?! Do you have any idea how you made me feel you selfish, using, doorknob-sucking –” and on and on and on until I was nearly out of breath. I was so angry, my face was melting off.
“I’m so sorry,” his voice quivered. “I…just got so overwhelmed, you know? I’ve wanted to be with you for so long and when it finally happened, I felt so happy, I just didn’t know what to do.”
I tried to process out loud. “Um, so you’re trying to tell me that that you were so happy, you ran away?”
Still didn’t get it. “You ran away…leaving me naked on the bed as if I were a whore you didn’t wanna pay because…you were happy?”
“Yeah,” he answered, as if it made all the sense in the world. It was as if to say, “Of course! Just like what the Constitution states: ‘the right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of semi-adequacy because happiness is too much.”
Possibly the most popular question a professional psychic gets is, “How does he/she feel about me?” Sometimes, it’s asked out of confusion because the client is getting mixed signals. Sometimes, they ask because there’s nothing happening but chemistry and they just want to make sure it’s not all in their heads. But, sometimes, they ask because they’re not sure if they’ve been dumped or not.
Of course, if dumping is the case, then they in their perfect right want to understand why. And if the dump-er isn’t going to explain, then I have to. That’s my job.
Usually, in the real world, the relationship ends for reasonable reasons such as bad communication, not having the same goals, etc. But, sometimes, I get cards that seem so random, I have to reshuffle, re-deal and double, sometimes triple-check myself. And still, they’ll make me go, “Really?” Of course, while I’m empathically connected with the subject, their logic makes sense on their end. However, when I’m back to my own planet trying to relay the info to my client, it’s like going blind while trying to explain brain surgery to the blind.
Here are some of greatest hits:
“He broke up with you because he doesn’t want to hurt your feelings.” – That’s kind of like, “He’s afraid you’re gonna go deaf, so he’s gonna stick a knitting needle in your ear.”
“He/she thinks you’re too good for him/her.” – I have to wonder if this is most likely just a cover up for a good old fashioned fear of responsibility, but ya never know.
“He/she left because you make him/her happy.” – Yeah, even though I experienced this phenomenon first hand, still, trying to explain it to a client is kind of like trying to convince them wood’s really made of plastic. The conversation starts to sound like a “Who’s On First?” shtick:
“He left me because he was happy? That’s crazy!”
“Yes, it is.”
“That makes no sense!”
“No, it doesn’t, but there it is – he was too happy.”
“Why the hell would he want to break up with me if he was too happy?”
“Ma’am, I’m getting happiness takes too much responsibility, which is something that he –“
“Why the hell would you want to break up with anyone if you’re too happy?”
“Ma’am, I don’t know.”
“That’s ridiculous! If you’re happy, then what does it matter?”
“I completely agree, but…”
“That’s just stupid!”
No, those few calls did not end well.
“They wanted to break up with you because they thought you were going to break up with them first.” – Nothing like a little Pamela Anderson / Kid Rock action to end a romance with a flair, huh?
“You’re too beautiful.” – Of course! Who the hell would want to be seen with a pretty face when you can find your guy or gal of grotesque on ZombieBabesandWookieWomenWookinPaNub.com? (If it actually existed?)
“You’re too smart.” – Well, you picked them, after all…
“He/She broke up with you because they were too much in love with you.” – Now, this I could see where it could be a little scary for some because Love makes you stupid. When we’re in love, we don’t have total control over ourselves, so I could imagine one would really need to be ready or it could potentially be overwhelming. However, when the one they’re too much in love with is you, there is no consolation – it’s “grab stick, beat head.”
“He/she could get hurt and therefore doesn’t want to burden you.” — This seems to be particularly popular with military folk and those with physical ailments. They don’t want to worry about you worrying about them so they’ll cut you off so all you have to worry about is why they cut you off. (?) See, isn’t that thoughtful?
And finally, “You kept asking if they were breaking up with you, so they finally did.” – Well, whaddaya know, sometimes we do ask for it…?
Incidentally, the reason why J called me was to tell me that he was leaving town for a while and wanted to start “going steady” when he returned.
I asked, “Would that make you happy, J?”
“Oh my god, that would make me amazingly happy!”
“Sorry, can’t handle that again,” and I hung up.