Dating a Delusion, Part 2

The day after Warren “professed his love for me,” I was actually surprised when he called to ask me out on a date. Call me analytical but I prefer cautious. Over dinner, I made him reiterate everything he had said the night before. Sorry, I just like to confirm things and have things in their place; know my limits, etc…especially when it comes to affairs of the heart.

Warren was amicable but at the same time, he voiced concerns that I was being “too emotional” and “too serious.” While he all but accused me of acting like a lesbian who had my U-Haul parked out front, I dug in my pants pocket to retrieve my phone.

“…Well, I just don’t want you to act like we’re getting married tomorrow or something — what’re you doing,” he asked, irritated. “I’m trying to talk to you and you’re going through your phone?”

“I’m listening,” I replied, sifting through the on-screen menus.

“What is so important?”

“Hold that thought. I need to cancel the caterer,” I smirked.

“Pretty good, Erik,” he said, laughing. “I get it.”

Since we were on the same page, there should be nothing left but happily ever after, right?

Let’s play a game of “Red Flag or Idiosyncrasy?”

Now that Warren had me back in his life and in his bed, he seemed to revert to the way he used to be: aloof, unreliable, lacking in effort.  His words told me what I wanted to hear but his actions said otherwise.

I felt like I was in a game of “Sorry!” His casual apologies may have worked the first few times. He continued to miss dates, not return calls and even lied about hanging out with old boyfriends.  I told myself that the next time he gave me one of his well-rehearsed apologies or flaccid excuses, I’d give him a “Sorry!” of my own and tell him to get lost.

However, the scar tissue from my last relationship was starting to show. Months of being called a “nag” and a “shrew” made me second guess my own judgment and wonder if I really was just overanalyzing. So, I decided to put my common sense aside and take him at his word.

That is, until he continued to receive and respond to calls and texts from an ex, whom he claimed was a distant memory. Sure, until said ex felt the need to email me, desperate to know if Warren and I were dating and for how long. Red flag or Idiosyncrasy?

For the next couple of weeks, I continued to bite my tongue. Why? I blame the sex. Mind blowing sex is just that. It obliterates any common sense.  

One morning after spending the night at his place, we were talking over coffee, discussing our plans for the day.

â┚¬Å”I have three students this morning and then a break,â┚¬Â Warren explained. â┚¬Å”In the afternoon, I only have two more classes and then â┚¬â€œâ┚¬Å” He paused, looked to his right as if someone was there and continued following what remained to be seen, turning his entire body towards the entrance to the kitchen. And just as abruptly he had suspended the conversation, he picked right back up where he left off. â┚¬Å”â┚¬â€I have some errands but after that –â┚¬Â

â┚¬Å”Wait a minute,â┚¬Â I interjected, looking at him sideways, perplexed. â┚¬Å”What the hell was that?â┚¬Â I gestured.

â┚¬Å”What?â┚¬Â

â┚¬Å”Um, you stopped completely mid-sentence, stared into space as if someone was next to you and just continued talking like nothing happened.â┚¬Â

â┚¬Å”Oh, that was Steven.â┚¬Â

I raised one eyebrow. â┚¬Å”Who or what is a â┚¬ËœSteven?'â┚¬Â

â┚¬Å”I told you about my spirit guide.â┚¬Â

â┚¬Å”Yes. You mentioned that but you failed to mention that it had a name and you could see it.â┚¬Â

â┚¬Å”It's no different than you having a guardian angel.â┚¬Â

I clearly couldn't hide my bewilderment and apprehension.  Red flag or Idiosyncrasy?

Before I had time to question him more, Warren walked around the breakfast bar, cupped my face in his hands and kissed me.

â┚¬Å”Don't be judgmental.â┚¬Â

I've never been one to be closed-minded and he was a fan of Shirley MacLaine. I told myself that just because I didn't understand it, didn't mean it was wrong and to be open to it.

Warren and I continued to kiss as he picked me up and carried me into the bedroom. He laid me on the bed and mounted me, straddling my waist. We began to remove each other's clothes.

â┚¬Å”Hold it,â┚¬Â I said.

â┚¬Å”What?â┚¬Â he asked, concerned.

â┚¬Å”Is Steven a voyeur?â┚¬Â

I glanced around the room with a solemn expression on my face.  However, I couldn't keep a straight face and we both started cracking up.

â┚¬Å”Shut up,â┚¬Â Warren ordered, pushing me back down. While I still had a ton of questions, for now, I appreciated the fact that we could laugh at ourselves.

Unfortunately, laughter can become a liability. A hop, skip and a week later and I still had knots in my stomach from all the unanswered questions and vague answers. I didn’t feel emotionally secure with him and we had even stopped making love. Deep down, I knew he was seeing and sleeping with other men.

Erik Fact: My mom always told me to hope the best but expect the worst.