A Committed Relationship

Nate was one of those guys that I wasn't attracted to in a classical sense. In fact, he looked kind of scary....a cross between a biker bad boy and one of those hairy guys you'd see in Provincetown during Bear week.

The conversation started out nicely enough....we had already exchanged a few pleasant emails and had spoken on the phone a number of times. He offered to "friend" me on facebook, which I politely declined. "I have enough virtual friends and really don't believe in the concept. My facebook account is reserved for "real friends. I'll let you know when you reach that status Nate."

Nate was involved in a life threatening motorcycle accident and had shattered his hip in the process. I was going through a really rough patch having quit smoking and was falling into a very deep, dark depression where I couldn't stop crying and was unable to focus on my work.

Nate was very sweet, supportive and understanding. The only thing that initially bugged me was that he told me he was on medication (anti-depressants) and that he regularly goes to a shrink. Putting that aside and realizing that I had already put him in a "friend" category as opposed to a "romantic interest" category, I continued the dialogue against my better judgment.

Nate had made two tentative dates with me, both of which were broken without a follow up phone call. The obligatory, "I'm sorry, but the dog ate my homework" excuse was never proffered - which really annoyed me. It annoyed me so that the next time Nate called me, I crawled him over the carpet regarding that small issue. I thought he had learned his lesson.

I decided that I did not want to speak to Nate anymore -- either on the phone or correspond via email. And a week later, that's when I got the text: "Hi...I'm having a yummy cheeseburger and I'm thinking of you". My thought was "Who is this and how do you come to associate me with a cheeseburger? Perhaps this is a wrong phone number...I text back, "Who is this?"

He texts me back, "Your buddy Nate". I text him back, "Oh, my virtual friend... I appreciate the sentiment, but real friends call and actually make plans that they keep." Nate texts me back and says, "Suit yourself...Oh by the way, I was in the psych ward at Belview through Thanksgiving. How was your holiday?"

After recounting this story to a friend, she mentioned to me that he mis-spelled Bellvue, a local mental hospital. What I found to be a bit more curious was that his text appeared to have an open ended question associated with it (even though I knew it was a guilt trip!