Blinding Irrationality

Excerpt from a cnn.com article:

We met when I delivered his mail, a task performed by all the interns. But I liked to think I was different: I was an eager little NYU journalism student, desperate for attention, and I chatted with all the editors as I passed their cubicles.

Many magazine editors on the top of the masthead are a bit standoffish and see interns, especially ones who want to talk while they're busy, as an annoyance. But the Older Man was actually inquisitive and kind; we'd chitchat a little bit, a welcome reprieve from the other editors who could be cold and snappish.
The Older Man and I kept in touch when I moved on to other internships, mostly, I think, because I wanted to use him as a reference. My life was pretty normal for a 21-year-old: I fell in love with a boy my own age, graduated from college, and moved back in with my parents in Connecticut when I took a reporter position at a newspaper.

Over time, "how's it going?" e-mails gave way to exchanging IM screen names and more regular chatting, usually in a mentorship capacity. He seemed to quite enjoy the tales of a cub reporter! And of course, it thrilled me that this big magazine editor thought I was cool enough to IM with.

I was even more thrilled when Older Guy and his girlfriend wanted to have brunch with me and my boyfriend, and when they showed up together at my 22nd birthday party. He read and helped me craft many of the freelance articles I pitched and wrote during that time.

Then one summer, his long-term girlfriend broke up with him. He was despondent and heartbroken and seemingly needed a friend to lean on. I didn't know what was happening at the time, but that's when the real trouble started for me. Honestly, I can't say our attraction to each other was a sexual thing. The Older Man is not particularly good-looking, and I'm a little cute, I guess, but really, our personalities just clicked. We were two sad people who met each other at a vulnerable time in our respective lives.

Older Man had thought he'd marry his ex-girlfriend and have her children; he hadn't expected to be 37 years old and single. (As he put it to me once, he thought most unmarried people at that age were the "leftovers.")

I'd moved back in with my parents to the suburbs after college -- a miserable experience for everyone involved. So hanging out more and more frequently with a man 15 years my senior didn't ring any serious alarm bells. On the contrary, the Older Man became the No. 1 joy in my life during that time.

For a few months the Older Man and I hung out platonically. We saw movies, plays and a taping of "The Colbert Report." I went on job interviews all the time (he, of course, was one of my references) and we usually met up at Starbucks for a bit, or for dinner, before I caught my Metro North train back to Connecticut.
But then one night after we dined together after a job interview, it hit me that I had an enormous crush on him. I can still remember exactly where I was standing on a particular New York avenue when I realized this.

Then, after we idled away one Saturday away together, it suddenly felt, to me, like we were dating. Operative words here: "to me." But what was I supposed to think? That day, the Older Man and I saw a play together. We walked across the Brooklyn Bridge for pizza and ice cream. We walked all the way back to his apartment in Manhattan and watched movies.

Sitting on his couch after the movies, we kissed. Kissing led to the bedroom and the bedroom led to sleeping together. If it was a "date," it was a perfect date. I can still remember him telling me, with the utmost earnestness, "You are very, very beautiful, by any measure." I felt absolutely over the moon.

Then, the magazine he worked for offered me a job at their Web site -- and I took it. The Older Man had nothing to do with my being offered the job -- I promise you that. He told me he said nothing to convince them to hire me and I believed him. I had been an intern at the mag, remember, and I'd kept in touch with people there, so when there was an opening at this other wing, I hustled into an interview.
To my great delight, I got offered the job, which finally meant I could leave my dinky $21,000-a-year newspaper reporter job and move out of my parents' place and back to New York City.

However, working in the same building just underscored for the Older Man how a relationship with a much younger woman was not sustainable. I'd sleep over at his apartment and we'd fool around and then we'd both be at the office as if we were two strangers.

He'd be in a meeting with the editor-in-chief and I'd be a copy machine monkey -- it was very awkward. And the fact that he didn't acknowledge me at work began to make me feel like crap. It took me longer than him to figure this out, but, little by little, I saw the ways in which our relationship was inappropriate -- not just because of our age difference and the fact that we now worked together, but because he didn't treat me like the lover/girlfriend that I considered myself to be.
But you know where this story is headed. And it got worse before it got better, of course.

It ended, abruptly, when I told him on the phone that I was in love with him. Sure, I'd shown for months now that I was in love, but I had never verbalized it before. But he had the worst of all possible responses: He wasn't in love with me, he said, and, in fact, he had gone on a few dates with a woman his own age and was falling in love with her.

That news -- a surprise to me -- punched me in the gut with the worst rejection sadness my life. He did care about me as a friend, he said, and he cared about supporting my career, but that was it. In fact, we had to end all of this, tout suite.

The inside of my head was absolute lunacy for several days, but I had to drag my myself to work in the weeks that followed, easily avoiding him. Sometimes when I was alone at the office, I cried, and wanted to run and find him, but I knew it would be unprofessional.

So I did the only thing I could do. I left for another job within a few months -- thanks to Older Man who was still on my resume (oops!) and charitably provided me an excellent reference. Maybe he thought he was getting rid of me? Well, it worked.
Over time, he married and had at least one kid, but I've only learned this through Facebook. No, we don't talk anymore, which is probably for the best.

I do miss his friendship, though: I wish he were still my mentor and my friend, I wish I were in his kid's life, I wish I could introduce him to my boyfriend, who is the best friend and lover that I have always deserved and that I'm going to marry.
But despite all those wishes, with 20/20 hindsight and a lot more maturity, I can see what he did to me was wrong. He should not have rebounded after his long-term relationship collapsed with someone who looked up to him and whom he had a bit of power over, period.

Beginning to date that other woman when we were sleeping together and then telling me about it when I finally verbalized that I was in love with him was just cruel. He knew he was a treasured best friend to me, and he could clearly see that I loved him. Clearly, the Older Man could have handled it better!

Nevertheless, as his former friend, I realize why the flawed person that he is just didn't do that. Maybe he couldn't do that.


Conclusion:
If this is truly an insight into the thinking of twenty-something girls’ minds then not only am I to remain single for eternity but I also will do so willingly. I actually read this article twice to be sure I had concluded what I indeed thought I had. This story actually has some stellar value to it, it begins as almost a tell all, an admission to a secret, then slowly evolves into a tale of two, as it begins to take shape you can almost hear the authors internal voice mold and shape the story ever-so-slightly into a full on rationalization. Then, for a brief moment, it becomes a reflection of the past decisions (both the benefits and faults). As the author concludes her dialog and memory of the events she almost makes it out before she begins to displace the blame onto the male (who while older, is still in his 30’s and not a gray-bush), shortly thereafter she fully rationalizes her poor decisions as those of a helpless girl that was swept up and taken advantage of by her silver fox of a co-worker.

This represents everything I feared in the opposite sex (and perhaps in many men of this generation too, I have just never spent much time watching other dudes…). This girl, whether she gets pounded out by the co-worker or not, puts herself into each and every one of the situations leading up to the climax of their relationship. And while the older guy certainly could have put a stop to it and said “No attractive young collegian, I am single and feel like I will likely never have a chance at ass again…so, please leave me alone to swill by my lonesome and whatever you do, don’t reveal your sexual offerings.” because that is totally likely. I am sure that this girl didn’t decide pretty early on that she fully intended on tapping this guy all the way, even if subconsciously. That is highly doubtful, and to think this guy is a) going to recognize her moves or b) even if he does, show the sack to step away from live bait on a newly vacated hook? Completely irrational.

Set aside all of the details of consideration, specifically the blame, because there isn’t any blame. It was a situation that was created based on a litany of bad decisions by both parties. The guy is likely single because there is no possible way his long term girlfriend isn’t aware on at least the shallowest of levels that her 37 year old boyfriend is strangely interacting with a college girl. There is not a question that she saw that and was like “warpo. I am out of here.” And the same for the little reporter skank. Any guy with even the slightest IQ would look at her situation and immediately think, “the bitch is nuts”. I certainly did (and did so early in the dialog).

In closing, The fact she rationalized this onto the guy and out of her conscience is the prime motivation for my skepticism in women (again, doubtlessly men too, but I have no vested interest in their behavior). The fact that we could read the exact same dialog and digest it different entirely and that one of us would surmise this entire situation as a series of pathetically poor decisions made by both parties, and thus placing the “blame” and repercussion(s) onto both equally. Neither person understood that there is simply not a possible way for a male of authority and a younger female subordinate (or vice versa) to remain completely plutonic over an extended period of time whilst also still attempting to satisfy another significant other. It is not a possibility, it is a confliction of agendas, neither will be fully satisfied and in time one will replace the other for the short term but only fail because it lacks true substance (generally built during the early stages of relationship, but in this case it is lacking due to the fact that this other party was attempting to maintain his current steady while half-assed building his secondary). This isn’t saying people cannot maintain friendships with the opposite sex, you are free to do what you like. But simply understand by its inherent nature, you are putting undo strain on your relationship (especially if your partner has expressed his/her concern). If you would like to continue friendships with the opposite sex and successfully move on in life and forge lasting relationships you have to set guidelines or some sort of limitations. E.g. always including your partner whenever being with the "oppo" friend or making sure to limit your one-on-one time to a very bare (poor use of adjective) minimum. Not to mention that in all honesty, if you have a male friend and he is not just Asphyxiatingly queer, he wants to bang you out. I don't give a shit what you or he says, it is his prime motivation, perhaps yours too. Doesn't matter if he is 15 or 55, he wants me to slip up just enough to let him wedge his foot in the door. That’s why he is there at all the right times. Same with your guys girlfriends, she wouldn’t stick around (especially if she is single) for nothing. She hates your guts (the bigger she smiles the less she thinks of the girlfriend) and would like nothing better than to screw your boyfriend.

Double-date and dinner-dates with friends whom are couples might work about as well as anything possibly can, this way the guy can have his crush on your girlfriend then go bone his wife to your gals face. Similarly for the girl. Facts of life. The faster you figure all this shit out, the faster you can move forward and not have to rationalize all of your many woeful mistakes and then waste time having to oxyclean them both from your conscience and your sheets!