Tonight I saw a movie about a man with crippling Oneitis, and I did so on a date with a girl who has troubled me of late with my own crippling Oneitis.
The movie was The Great Gatsby, and the girl was The Fritalian.
****
From Urban Dictionary:
Oneitis: Often confused with love, this is the feeling that a particular woman is actually special. This is just an illusion; she is the same as the other three or so billion. “Go fuck ten other women” is the most commonly prescribed treatment for this “disease” (hence the “itis”), as it tends to show quite quickly how very alike people are.
****
I knew it was over before it even began.
I had accepted the fact that I should move on from The Fritalian, and sever all ties. But after being aloof and mostly ignoring her texts for a few days, she sent me a long message saying she thought we should “talk about things” and that she was wondering how I felt.
I called her an hour later, and told her I had had time to digest what we talked about, and I felt fine about continuing to see her in a casual way. We agreed that we’d get together later in the week, probably Wednesday or Thursday.
She had a one-day business trip on Tuesday, and I texted her that afternoon to ask how it was going.
Dagonet (Tuesday 5:35 PM): How’s (city)?
Fritalian (5:36 PM): At the airport about to head home. Phone gona die. Text u when I land.
Dagonet (5:37 PM): Ok have a good flight
Fritalian (8:23 PM): Home yay:) how’s your week?
Dagonet (8:27 PM): I’m good. walking into the (redacted) party at the (redacted) right now
Fritalian (8:29 PM): Enjoy
Dagonet (8:50 PM): Thanks
Dagonet (8:51 PM): If tmrw works that should be good for me
Fritalian (9:11 PM): Lets check in tom. Too much on my mind right now to commit.
****
Her text bummed me out, and sent me back into the spiral of reading into it and assuming I should feel pathetic and rejected– emotions that I haven’t felt since my breakup with Longterm four years ago.
It’s just part of my default emotional makeup, stemming all the way back to my childhood, when I saw my Mom leave my Dad on an abandoned street corner in Manhattan the day we moved him out of our house in the suburbs. In these moments, I’m my Dad– or at least, the version of him I made up in my head that day.
For all I know, as soon as we were out of sight, my Dad jumped for joy, headed to the nearest bar, and picked up the hottest girl there to celebrate. It might’ve been the best day of his life.
****
I debated what to do after I saw the Fritalian’s text. I already had a sinking feeling deep within me; I knew that I had played my hand once more, and seemed too invested. She was pulling back again, repulsed by the attentive, caring person I had become with her. How disgusting I was!
Dagonet (Wednesday 10:59 AM): Its all good. are you talking about our situation or life in general?
Fritalian (10:59 AM): life
Fritalian (11:00 AM): there’s new drama with the house
(Her parents were trying to buy a vacation home, and there had been spirited negotiations for weeks to close it.)
Fritalian (11:01 AM): work is endless. i just want time to workout and make myself lunch. sigh
She was reminding me of someone… Me. When I was making up excuses to avoid seeing a girl I didn’t want to bang anymore. The sinking feeling deepened. Signs pointed to the fact that she might already be banging a new dude.
And for the record, when she would text me in happier times, she would always capitalize her sentences and write in perfect grammar.
Dagonet (11:20 AM): This house is a like a soap opera haha
Fritalian (11:22 AM): it gives me a headache and my mom gets SO crazy… [this continued in 4 very long text messages about the situation with the vacation house]
Dagonet (11:43 AM): That is pretty fuckin annoying
Fritalian (11:43 AM): it’s unbelievable
Dagonet (12:31 PM): Did you see gatsby yet?
Fritalian (12:32 PM): i haven’t. you?
Dagonet: (12:34 PM): No, i want to see it this week
Fritalian (12:35 PM): i really want to see it too and in 3D
At this point, I discuss with her that she should get us hooked up for a screening that night through her job. I can’t really say anything further about what she does, but she can get movie tickets whenever she wants them.
We discuss what night and settle on seeing a 10 PM screening on this very night.
Fritalian (1:18 PM): booking it
Dagonet (1:19 PM): Sweet
****
Then the plot thickens, and she indicates even more clearly that she is structuring the entire night to avoid having sex with me.
Fritalian (2:13 PM): so i’m thinking I should work late and go to your place from here so we can drive together but then not stay over tonight.
Dagonet (2:15 PM): Thats fine. should be home by like 8
Fritalian (2:16 PM): k
****
So at this point, I realize that she has checked out to a large degree. It’s a tough pill to swallow, but I figure we can just have one night of normalcy, even if we don’t have sex, and see if that makes us more comfortable to keep seeing each other in the future. After the emotional conversation we had the last time we were together, which felt very much like a breakup, it might take a night or two to smooth things over.
I also considered just cutting the whole thing off and canceling, since I realized how stressed this was making me. It was wrenching my heart to keep dealing with the uncertainty surrounding her.
Before she got to my place– late enough that we wouldn’t have time to have sex before we had to leave– I had already resigned myself to the fact that this would almost definitely be the last time we’d see each other.
****
I texted with Danger & Play a little bit before she got to my place.
Dagonet: This fritalian thing is really fucking with me. think i need to sever all ties
Dagonet: Seeing her tonight, im sure that will inform my decision
D&P: It’s always weird when you have feelings for a chick. Are you jonesing for her or just looking to move on?
Dagonet: Think i just want to be done with it at this point. the limbo is stressing me out. id enjoy continuing to bang but at this point my ego is too bruised and i think she has lost most of her attraction
D&P: Cancel.
D&P: Tell her a work meeting came up.
D&P: Reclaim your power.
D&P: Don’t explain or go into details or sound gay. Just a simple, “Shit. Work duty calls. Let’s meet up some other time.”
Dagonet: Too late but at least im getting a free 3D movie
D&P: Hah. Well then the move is to not talk about anything. Just leave things unresolved. That will fuck with her head. Closure is a myth anyway
Dagonet: Agreed
****
We chilled at my place for a little while. I joked and made her laugh, but the silence was deafening. A pall hung over us. It seemed we had crossed the Rubicon, and weren’t coming back.
I kissed her, pulled her on top to straddle me, but after a few moments of half-hearted caressing, she rolled back off me with a sigh.
The movie was really good.
I held her hand for part of it. She held mine back, but instead of warm comfort, it felt somewhat alien. Like holding a stranger’s hand, making me more aware of the way our fingers were intertwining or not, and the way my hand was laying against her leg.
I watched Jay Gatsby build himself up from nothing and then tear himself down.
All for the obsession with Daisy– his Rosebud, his grail, his savior. His One True Love.
I don’t know if the movie was a tribute to tragic, hopeless love or a cautionary tale against it, but it made me reflect on the human being sitting next to me– a girl who I had so many emotions tied up in, but now lacked any passionate connection with, any present and vital chemistry. She was inert, like radon.
I saw myself on screen, spiraling into psychosis and losing touch with reality in pursuit of a dream that had so clearly died in days past.
We drove home, tired, mostly in silence. As we got in the elevator from my parking garage, she said “I’m gonna go home now.”
I didn’t argue. I didn’t attempt to talk about anything related to our status.
In the past I would have, but I knew it was futile.
I walked her out. I kissed her, and she half-heartedly kissed me back.
I let her go.
****
I’m not against love, and I’m not against relationships.
It’s good that this one fell apart, because she was not the right girl for me to get into a long relationship with. She’s in her 30s, and I have so much life, sex, and career to tackle in my immediate future. I would have been settling for a comfortable romance, and sacrificing the chance to make myself truly great– just as Jay Gatsby admitted he had done.
Perhaps lightning will strike again and I’ll find a girl worth settling down with for a little while. The idea of saving all the time I spend texting, talking to, drinking with, and fucking girls definitely seemed appealing… but it surely would’ve been replaced with perfunctory date nights, hanging with her annoying friends, trips to her parents’ house, and other soul-crushing obligations of a relationship.
The grass is always greener, and all that.
****
The lessons we can take away from this goddamn mess of an experience:
Don’t keep forcing yourself into a situation that makes you sad.
Don’t put yourself around a girl that causes you to become a worse version of yourself.
Do move on, and continue to be around girls that honor the fully-realized version of yourself without resistance, and actually strengthen the frame you want to present to the world and operate within.
There is no more beautiful thing than a fresh start, and a new girl falling enchanted under your spell for the first time.
It is the promise of infinite hope.
****
And for now, there is no more to say about or to The Fritalian.
Women are more in touch with the emotional landscape of human interaction than men, and she certainly felt all the vibes I did, with even stronger resonance.
She received the signal loud and clear, so there is no reason for me to say anything further. We both know it is time to truly reclaim our own space now, to go our own separate ways.
So let’s raise a glass for The Fritalian’s curtain call. She gave me 5 months of good sex, cool parties with great hors d’oeuvres, an awesome playlist of songs that I can still fuck other girls to, and a touch of classiness and taste influencing my humble bachelor’s life. Also some stylish socks and cufflinks– which I will wear with deep appreciation, while picking up new girls to bang in the future.
And now, without further adieu, the Quest continues toward its roaring conclusion…









