Choosing Figs | Neurotic as Hell | A Travel, Lifestyle, and Life List Blog

I’m going on a diet.

A No Matt Diet...

Mat hasn’t talked to me since December, when he dropped me off at LAX and said goodbye. I’ve called. I’ve emailed. I’ve heard nothing back. At first it really made me angry, upset. And then I managed to get myself to a point where I was happier than I’d been in a long, long time and I was going by weeks without even thinking about him. Until, of course, that time ended.

Last year on May 24, which happened to be his birthday, which happened to be the five year anniversary of our breakup, he showed up out of nowhere. At that point he hadn’t talked to me in 8 months. And I was angry, upset, but still managed to fall back into whatever it is I fall into. And surprisingly, it was probably one of the best times we’ve had together in a long, long time. Why? There were no expectations, I think. And maybe because I’d grown a little, I wasn’t quite as afraid to tell him what I wanted so I didn’t walk away crying.

I called him last night because now I’m back to calling too often, but not for the same reasons as before. I think he picked up. He might have picked up, but I’m not sure. I rarely ever have the phone to my ear when I dial his number. I wasn’t even going to let it get to the message this time. Just let it ring long enough to get my name on the missed calls list. I was in the middle of closing it when I heard mumbled noises of a crowd. Maybe he was drunk and didn’t know what he was doing. Maybe someone else picked it up for him thinking he wouldn’t want to miss a call. Maybe the phone answered itself in his pocket. Maybe I imagined it.

May 24 is coming up again and I keep wondering if maybe he’ll show up out of the blue again. And what I’ll do. Because I know what he’ll do and I don’t know if I’m strong enough now to resist. And in my year of seizing opportunities do I seize the opportunity to “have fun” or to regain some dignity and maybe, perhaps, move forward?


And then there was the one who I wanted more than what I wanted from.

And now this.

I was talking to Nad the other day as we were on our way to someplace I wasn’t sure I wanted to go. And we decided that I need to go on a diet. A No Matt Diet. For serious, as of now I can no longer date, want to date, think about dating, whatever, any man named Matt. I have only ever dated guys named Matt and they seem to keep creeping into my life. I’m at the point where I either have to get the name tattooed on my ass or walk away, wash my hands of them.

There are plenty of reasons for this diet:

1) It’s just plain creepy to have only dated guys with the same first name.

2) It makes it nearly impossible to hold an easy conversation (Well, I really like Matt but I’m afraid that Matt will come back into the picture…) My friends are sick of it.

3) I have been nothing but constantly and consistently hurt. There are things I’ve never even told anyone else. There are things that I didn’t even understand myself until recently.

Now, I’m not saying I can give up any of the Matt’s already in my life. I still want to talk to and be friends with #1 (if he ever mysteriously reappears) because he knows things and understands things about me that I don’t think anyone else possibly could. And #2 used to be such a good friend and I am truly at a point where I more than happy for where he is. But I can’t take it anymore. “God’s Gifts” are turning out to be nothing of the sort.

And I think I’m ready to say it. If these guys can’t understand what a fucking catch I am, then they deserve to not have me and I don’t deserve them. I am a damn amazing person. I’m cute, I’m fun, I cook, I…talk about sex a lot. Any guy would be fucking lucky to call me theirs.

So, from now on, if I meet any guy and he tells me his name is Matt, I will walk away right there and then. I am worth so much more than this shit.

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Hi, I'm Val. I spent most of my 20s in a standstill, unable to pick which path in life I wanted to take. I wanted the nomadic life of a traveler but also wanted the husband, the condo, and the kitten. Unable to decide which life I wanted more, I did nothing. When I turned 30 I’d had enough of putting my life on hold and decided to start “choosing my figs.” So, I quit my job, bought a one-way ticket to Europe, and traveled for three years. Now I'm back in Chicago, decorating my apartment in all the teal, petting my cats, and planning my next adventure.

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2 Comments
  • Heather
    April 28, 2006at9:41 am

    If it’s any consolation, I ‘ve only dated either blonds named Josh or brunettes named John (or Jon). And every guy since college started has been met at R&Rs.
    Its creepy.

  • val
    April 28, 2006at3:05 pm

    Yeah, before i started dating only Matts, the only 2 guys I’d ever kissed were Mikes.
    It is creepy.
    I always used to say that at least I didn’t have to worry about calling them the wrong name.

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