A League of His Own

I feel funky. Maybe it's the week. Maybe it's the weed. Maybe it's the dweeb. This afternoon Luke, this guy I dated for the last couple months, tells me he thinks I'm out of his league. That was a first. He said he felt inferior and thought I must think he's a bore. That's about the saddest thing I've heard in quite a while. Almost as sad as, "I can't be the man you need me to be," famous near last words from an old flame ...

Is it me or is there something seriously wrong with someone who would say such things? Let us not overlook the fact this way of thinking is purely unilateral, which comes from a completely self absorbed place.

Well, truth be told he was too insecure and emotionally immature for us to be a good fit. Instead of just being direct and straight forward, he would often hint around about how he was feeling. Can't tell you how much that drives me up a wall. I'm not a mind reader, and I would never assume to ever just know how someone else is feeling. Perhaps over time, a long, long time, I might gain some insight.

Luke had many great qualities. We had a nice little connection. Even today, despite not having seen one another for a couple weeks, we chatted across a cafe table for a couple hours. We made a lot of small talk, and then broached the elephant in the room; what went wrong.

I suppose what baffles me the most is that he had the vulnerability, the humility, the balls to articulate how he feels lesser than me. I really liked him, and I'm very expressive, so I showered him with praise. From day one he deflected my compliments, almost couldn't take one to save his life. Translation: very poor self esteem.

OK, we would all be remiss to not admit our insecurities. Everyone has them. Some clearly more than others. I mean, c'mon, I'm the guy who farts into the phone with some of his best gal pals on the receiving end. Guess sometimes others see in us only what they want to see and overlook understanding who we really are.

On some level I would say this is unfortunate. Though one should never curse their bad luck until they're absolutely certain it's not good luck.

We walked out to our cars together and hugged a couple times prior to parting ways. We agreed we could still continue on as friends. What amused me the most were his parting words, "This isn't goodbye, just see you later ..." Maybe. Maybe not. Perhaps he'll just remain in a league of his own.

Adios, amigo.