Next up on the ITOFTS Chronicles - Perfection is a problem

*ITOFTS= I'm too old for this shiggity

It was a Thursday night not so long ago. I was tired and cranky but prepared to fake all of the funk because the s/o was coming back from a weeklong trip to Japan. He called from customs and asked if I was cooking. We all know that is code for "can you please cook something for me?" so I shimmied off the dream of sipping wine at the bistro up the street while someone else cooked me something delicious and got to it. 

Now this is important to the story. I cooked. From scratch. Dirty rice. Green Beans Almondine with grilled vidalia onions. Crabcakes and garlic shrimp. From scratch. (I did cheat on the french bread, I'm not Wonder Woman). All of this after an eleven hour day. My hair was did. My clothes were cute and I smiled right pretty when really I just wanted to get under the bed and sleep for a week. Dammit, I'm a good girlfriend. Lock all of that in and let's continue.

He comes over. We chat and tee-hee. I serve food and pour wine, all is wondrous. We're discussing something on the TV and he gets up and helps himself to another serving of dinner. "This is delicious." He announces and I smile. "Did you make everything?" "All except the bread, yes." He nods and continues to eat.

Then he helps himself to more wine and the last crabcake. We are often just silent in each other's company so I don't think anything of it. He sits down and holds my hand and starts drawing patterns on the back of it. Then he puts his arm around me. "It's been a long week." He says. True dat. I nodded.

"Listen..." something in his tone alerts me that whatever comes next is about to suck. So I lean slightly away and wait. "We're not at the same place."

I look around in confusion. What place is that? "I'm sorry?"

"You're perfect and I'm not. If I sat down and wrote a list of the 50 things I want in a woman, you fulfill that list."


"And now that I've found you, I don't know what to do. I need time." {Blogger's note I couldn't put that line a book, my readers would SKEWER me. Let's continue}

"Uhhhh..." was my still dazed and confused comeback.

"I'm not good enough for you. I don't believe what you believe spiritually and you're more sophisticated than I am. I think we should take some steps back and be friends for your own good. And mine." (He had some other mess in here about his thoughts on Jesus that I will spare you all but it was side-eye worthy)

Now my brain starts processing. Did this Negreau just give me a list of reasons he needs to be out? AFTER he ate up the shrimp and crabcakes? Why is he hugging me and holding my hand while telling me he's bailing?

"We could keep going how we're going and get married in a few months but is that what's best in the long run?"

Before I can answer he continues. "I'm not ready for you. Maybe in six months."

The switch flipped. I extracted myself from the grasp. "I don't need twelve reasons why you don't want to be here. We're both adults. Well, one of us. If you want to go, just say it isn't working and go."

"But it is working, I don't want to leave. But I have to. I just need some time. I didn't expect to meet someone like you."

All of the saints in heaven kept me from going full scale Shaquaneisha. Deep breath in, deep breath out. "Okay then." I walked him to the front door, he leaned in for a hug. I gave him a 'don't get cut out here on my front step' look and off he went. To be followed by a volley of emails continuing to try and explain. Exactly one week later I got a text, "I may have been hasty. Let's talk."

A week later he sent a spa gift certificate talmbout - Thought you would like this.

NAWL. I cannot. And I have to tell you guys. I got over the idea of him quicker than I got over the fact that the Negreau ate up the crabcakes and the shrimp BEFORE he gave his speech. Look here, you can get a turkey sammich and kool-aid for that conversation. Even better, there's a Wendy's up the street. Don't have me up in here wasting restaurant quality food and wine and you got some 'you're too perfect for me' mess to say. This man is over 45. Been married before. If he doesn't know his own mind by now, he simply doesn't know. 

Why are you meeting my family and whisking me to theatre, opera, dinner, wine tastings and whatnot when you don't know what you want? I'm damned sure not perfect but if you're saying I'm perfect for you and you can't handle it? Then yeah, you need to go. BEFORE YOU EAT up seafood deliciousness. Woo-sah.

Jayme says I have to get over the crabcakes. Lisa said it was better he told me early before I was more invested. BougieSis says use the spa certificate and keep it pushing - which I did. It was awesome so thanks for that. I don't know what the real reason he bailed was. Not sure he knows. I kinda don't care. To all of this I say - ITOFTS. I really, truly am. Thoughts, comments, insights?