Showing posts with label pushover. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pushover. Show all posts

Sunday, October 26, 2014

The Secret Life of Pushovers (II)

Where was I? Ah, yes, my favorite pushover ever. For sh*ts and giggles, we'll call him Donatello, in the true spirit of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles making their much awaited comeback. Plus, our leading fella's name is the same as one of theirs.
Donatello was, at the time, shorter than I was. A bit darker than me, with soft eyes that made him look like he had been hurt (by something physical and simplistic, like getting hit by a car, not by, like, heartache), and in my entire life I have undoubtedly never kissed bigger lips. Twice my size (I know, right?!), plumped up like on God's Botox, and perfectly shaped like the healthiest apple. We were really good for each other because he boosted my self-esteem as best as he could, and I brought him out of his shell a little. (Get it? Shell? Half shell, cause he's Donatello?? I crack myself up...)
Anyhow, I wasn't exactly Miss Kind when I used to date him, so Donatello ended up taking a few bullets for me. Perfect example, I started some gossip about a mutual friend, blamed good ol' Donatello, and he took it like a man, even if it meant that our friend wouldn't talk to him for a while. To this day, I haven't thanked him for that. I know you're reading this, so thanks, D.!
There was also an instance where Yvette, a couple of new friends, Don and I were at Plaza Zona Rosa, when it used to be the hot spot for college kids, and he disappeared on us for like an hour. When he showed up, not only did I rip him a new as*hole, I did it in front of our new friends. It wasn't until half hour later that we realized he was doing it to stall us from heading home, as my mom was preparing a surprise birthday party for Yvette. And my mom LOVED Donatello with such a passion, that she counted on him to be in on the plan INSTEAD of me.
The decline in our relationship came when he took being a pushover to the next level. I was beginning to be super into him, and (with the help with my prying mother) picturing a pretty great future with him. But the boy took some pretty bad advice. One of his friends, of which I have never inquired the name, told him he needed to "show me 'what he had' a little more". This meant that, not only was it pretty obvious Donatello had money, but he now had to boast about it. He actually paid attention to that piece of... gold.
While out on dates, he told me he made the huge effort of not repeating the same clothing twice a year; he said he wanted to buy an original NES, "just to have it", not even to take it out of the box; the kicker was when we passed a jewelry store and I mentioned I really liked a diamond cross that was on the window, and he gave me that look that rich people give, like they can buy your soul if they wanted to. I stopped him dead in his tracks and told him not to even think about buying it.
But the glass that spilled the cup for me was the fact that he had the opportunity to enroll in an international program straight from the university he was attending (we didn't go to the same school, he was at the rich-kid university, PUCMM), it entailed a few years at the Rochester Institute of Technology.  And... he rejected the opportunity. Yup, he turned down a ridiculously positive experience... for none other.. than... me. I know it sound romantic as f*ck, but I was FURIOUS. I remember my throat hurting as I yelled over the phone. How could he throw away something so great, a truly amazing opportunity, over someone who treated him like total crap? Had I been more mature I would have realized he was trying not to be away from me and visualizing a future with me. But all he did was freak me out. Seemed like he just couldn't find a balance between making me want him for him, and making me love him I'm spite of him being rich. So he did what any pushover would do, push himself over and put me first. All he really did was what he thought was best, and I couldn't see past freaking out over someone wanting to give me everything. It was over within the month.
The last time I saw Donatello, we were having dinner in what's probably my favorite joint in Santiago at the moment. He said he was crushed that last time he called my house phone and Yvette picked up, looked at me, and not even lowering my voice, I said "Tell him I'm not here." I don't remember that happening, but the way I was treating him those days, I wouldn't have put it past me. I do remember Yvette sending him a letter through mIRC that she had found, where I was breaking up with him. He typed back that he was going to see if his parents would get him out of the country. "Oh, NOW you wanna leave??" I remember being so pissed, and freaked out, and overwhelmed, that at that point nothing he couldn't do anything to alleviate it.
He did alleviate things for himself, though. Became super ambitious, found a wife that's just a tad less ambitious than him, heheh... And is fulfilling his dreams as best as he can. That's not easy back in the Dominican Republic. Overall, I'm happy he's still my friend, and that he overcame this whole pushover deal. Which is truly more than I can say for a lot of other friends I have at the moment. But that, my friends, is another story.
So if you are a pushover, or know someone who is, and you are currently not happy with your situation, remember this: sometimes the other person is just waiting for you to take charge this time around. Don't sit and wait. For what you'll inevitably be pushing next, will be your relationship away, and your suitcases out the door. And it won't be to go to Rochester!!
Yan DLC
10/26/2014.-

Thursday, September 25, 2014

The Secret Life of Pushovers

Growing up and while dating I wasn't very confident. Yes, I stopped being shy as soon as I hit sophomore year in high school, but confidence didn't really work its way into my repertoire of magic tricks until sophomore year in college. Up until that point, I had been drawn to dudes who were very sure (even full) of themselves. And super secure in me, too. As far as they were concerned, infidelity would never be an issue, because I was so self conscious, that I could never shoot for someone better for me.

Now, keep in mind I never thought I'd have a serious relationship, let alone become engaged or get married. My plans for the future revolved around a Mack truck with windows, looking as badass as "Lola La Trailera", never living in the same state for more than a year, and settling for being cool Aunt Yani for the rest of my life. I couldn't be bothered with the conversation of being a wife and mothering kids to some hot shot. Because I would be the hot shot. Whatever I did professionally would be BIG. Whatever I did romantically, not so much.

Life can definitely throw you in directions never expected. And the fact I actually found someone crazy enough to put up with my eccentricities (which I didn't know existed until my thirties, smacking me so hard that my chin gets smaller by the minute) is still some kind of a mystery to me.

But I digress. So I dated (defining dating as puritan, unadulterated, nonsexual and unapologetic fun) a handful of guys who were absolutely sure of what they were doing at the moment. Locking me down while they had no idea how to fix their own locks regarding self awareness. Clueless about their appearance and completely oblivious to the fact that other guys were looking at me. And looking pretty hard.

And then came the pushovers. That group of guys that inevitably made me realize who I had previously been and why I could never be that way again. The pushover had a few character traits that set him apart from the rest of the dating spectrum, and that still live worldwide today. (Ughhhh, "worldwide", I just totally sounded like Pitbull. Remind me never to say that word again...)

1) He is not enough for you, let alone for anyone else. The pushover is an expert at strongly believing you'll dump him the second he says the wrong thing. And once you leave him, he'll be alone forever, because let's face it, he's nothing without you. You made him, and you will destroy him if this happens.

2) Everything is unbearable. It's the end of the world when an argument comes about. He drowns in a sorrow so deep, his face can only be described by that little emoticon that has its eyes sadly shut and his mouth open oh, so wide in a ridiculous frown. Yes, it would be easier to paste the emoticon here, but I got you to exercise your imagination, didn't I?

3) Looks don't matter, but BOY, DO THEY MATTER! He looks in the mirror fifty times before going out, and seventy-five times before exiting the cab to go in the club. Yet, he has the audacity to say looks aren't important and thrives on saying he's with you specifically because of your personality. God forbid you getting a big head for believing you're cuter than you really are! No, he'll tell you that you're beautiful, but he'll never push it. Because in his eyes, the second you realize you're a lot hotter than he is, you're dumping his ass.

This last one is particularly curious because it's where the pushover tries to convince the world that he's not a pushover. He portrays a tiny bit of confidence, which is total bs, because he's secretly and dramatically dying inside.

I dated a boy who was probably the biggest pushover I have ever met. This guy was booksmart, the pride of both his (loaded) parents and teachers. He was the only one in our clique that went to school for what I like to call engineering on steroids, AKA Telematics Engineering. He was bright, and always put his studies over everything else. And a successful future could clearly be seen for him, no matter what he did... Until I came along.

... To Be Continued...

(Woa! I hadn't typed "To Be Continued" in years! Feels good. Why did I stop doing that again?)

Yani DLC
09/25/2014.-