How to Traumatize Your Partner in 6 Months

 

Once I publish this story online, no woman will ever want to date me ever again.

That’s how bad this experience was for her.

She was traumatized. Absolutely traumatized.

And this is the story of how we got to this point.

…

The Beginning

It was 2017. Like most bad relationships, our journey begins on Tinder.

Ah yes, the number one finger exercising app. Also known as the “Men Who Love To Post Photos With Fish” app.

Most of the Tinder dates that I have been on are usually two people being nice to each other the entire time but are also wondering when the date will end.

There are a few times when the person looks nothing like their photos so you pretend that you are waiting for someone else. That way, you can avoid going on the date and leave.

Sometimes it’s: “let’s just get drunk and have sex.”

And then there’s that rare moment when the stars align and you find someone that’s not crazy or boring. You actually enjoy talking to this person and you are having fun on the date.

That is what this first date was like.

Well, at least the first 90% of this date was like that.

…

Setting Up The Date

For anonymity, I will refer to her as “Sally.”

We messaged each other A LOT before the first date. Which I don’t normally do. I normally prefer to say a few witty lines, establish that I am not a serial killer or a rapist, set up a date, and then save the talking for the date.

But with Sally, she was curious, and she was funny. So I was curious and I was funny. We messaged back and forth for 2 hours straight on the night we matched and the date was on Friday, 3 nights later.

Even on those days leading up to the date, we continued to message each other. We joked about horrible Tinder dates, sent memes, and flirted like we met in church but were ready to commit every sin in the book once the Sunday service was over.

…

About Sally

I remember feeling very excited about this first date.

Which was unusual for me because I normally temper my expectations to avoid disappointment. But something told me that this date was going to be different. Because she was different.

Sally is gorgeous.

She has that natural beauty where she doesn’t have to wear any makeup (and she rarely did) and still looked breath-taking. She’s 5″7, has long dark hair, she had the eyes of a Disney Princess, and has a warm playful smile. Her ethnicity is a mix of Mexican, Venezuelan, and Ecuadorian.

If I had to describe what my ideal woman would look like it would be Sally.

Sally was an Architect who loves art, going to museums or exhibits, reading biographies of interesting people, photography, traveling, exploring nature and so much more. She was sophisticated. She was interesting. She was funny. And she also happened to look like a Goddess.

The stage was now set for the most unforgettable, horrifying, first-date experience ever.

…

The Date Part One

The first part of the date was at an interactive art exhibit.

She did art in her spare time and I wanted to go to this exhibit so it was perfect timing.

It was 6:10 PM on Friday night.

I arrived 20 minutes early and I was so excited. I’m looking fresh, I’m looking clean, and I sat down on a bench at the entrance of the exhibit to do my pre-game talk.

In case you didn’t know ladies, men like to hype themselves up and talk to themselves in their heads before a first date. We like to give ourselves mental reminders like “be cool, be smooth, don’t do anything stupid, just act natural, be yourself, you got this, you da man.”

And the moment she arrived, all of that went out the window.

When she walked through the entrance, it was like time had slowed down and I could no longer hear any of the noise in the background. I stood up and she saw me. She waved at me with a big smile.

As she walked toward me, I could feel my heart racing. She was smiling the entire time and I just stared at her with no emotion on my face for the first 3 seconds like a big dummy and then I remember to smile.

“Hi!!!” she said and she gave me a big hug.

“uh, hi” I replied.

She laughed “Are you okay?”

“Oh, me? Yeah I’m good” trying to act cool

“What’s that?” she asked as she looked down at the book in my hand

“Oh, this is for you.” I smiled. “It’s a sketchbook.”

I Googled ‘Ideal gifts to give to an architect’ and sketchbooks came up a lot. So I went to the art store and picked up a small red one with a nice leather cover.

“Aww thank you! That’s so thoughtful,” she replied.

I held her hand and said, “Come on let’s go!” And her smile widened.

I had planned for us to be at that exhibit for only an hour. We were there for two.

It was the most engaging conversation that I ever had on a first date. We talked about so many different topics. We joked and teased each other. We flirted.

We were having so much fun.

…

The Date Part 2

After two hours, we left the exhibit. We stood outside the entrance and she asked “so, what’s next?”

We were standing less than a foot away from each other. I had one arm wrapped around her back. I glanced down at her lips for a moment then looked back into her eyes.

“Are you hungry?” I asked. She nodded as we continued to gaze into each other’s eyes. “Let’s get something to eat,” I said. Then I turned, with a big smile on my face, held her hand, and lead the way to the restaurant.

That was definitely a perfect moment for a kiss but I wasn’t sure. As I turned away, I saw her quickly bite her lip and when I turned back she had a massive grin on her face.

She was ready for me to kiss her and now she thinks I’m teasing her but in reality, I was too scared to pull the trigger because I didn’t want to be too forward. It was a nice setup for the expectation of a kiss to happen at the end of the date.

I took her to one of my favorite Mexican restaurants a five-minute walk away from the exhibit. I knew this was a safe choice because 2 other Mexican girls I had been on dates with previously, both recommended this spot.

The restaurant was a mix between a hole-in-the-wall bar in Tijuana and a ’70s American Diner. There were neon signs on the wall next to old pictures of Mexican Mariachi Bands.

The restaurant played loud, upbeat, Mexican music. Almost too loud that you had to almost yell while having a conversation. It smelled like Tequilla, beans, and grilled meat. And the restaurant was dirty. But it didn’t matter because I was with Sally.

Another 2 hours go by. Talking, eating, flirting, and a few drinks. I paid the bill and then we left. Everything that happened up until this point was perfect for a first date.

Now, everything was about to go downhill from here.

…

“The Incident”

Ever since we left the exhibit and had that moment where we almost kissed, I had been waiting in anticipation to finally kiss her. Maybe she was too. So I had it planned while she was using the bathroom before we left the restaurant.

We had a romantic evening stroll along a quiet street until we arrived at the Waterfront. There was a perfect spot overlooking the river. The mountains in the background were illuminated by the full moon. We stood in front of the seawall and I wrapped my arm around her waist while we looked up at the moon.

I don’t remember what I was saying. Probably some cheesy romantic BS that you only hear in early 2000s Rom-com movies. Our heads were only 6 inches apart. And then I turn towards her and I gaze into her eyes.

I glance at her lips and then back into her eyes.

Then we both start to lean in.

Closer.

And right before our lips touched…

I farted!?

Not just any fart. No, it was a dirty trombone fart. A loud 3-second eruption fart. Not only was it loud, but it was also a nasty-smelling fart. A fart that will give your grandma a stroke type of fart. If Dubstep had a smell type of fart.

It was around October at the time and it’s chilly up here in Vancouver, Canada. So we were both wearing long coats. But when I farted, the smell traveled up my coat so we both inhaled the stank because we were standing next to each other.

And it was absolutely horrible…

The moment that I farted, we both laughed hard. But 2 seconds later when we smelled it we were coughing and laughing. You couldn’t tell if the tears were from the laughs or from the stank.

After a few minutes of laughing, Sally told me not to do that again. I was still giggling. “I promise, I won’t.” Then we attempted to kiss again. But all the laughing pumped more air into my stomach. I could feel my bowels moving.

So when we tried to kiss again, I farted AGAIN. But this time it was the Stankiest of all Stank. It was so nasty that when Sally smelled it, she threw up.

How’s that for a first date experience, huh?

But that’s not the end of the story folks. Oh no, there’s more…

…

Christmas

Sally and I were still dating. Surprisingly.

She took my farts like a champ. We joked about that moment and laughed all the time. Even though we didn’t have a romantic kiss on the first date, we did have one on the second. I made sure to avoid eating beforehand and didn’t eat till after the kiss.

Fast forward to 2 months after “the incident” — It’s Christmas.

Sally invites me to have Christmas with her family. I haven’t met her family yet and she hasn’t met mine. For most Western cultures, it’s kind of a big deal to introduce your family to your boyfriend/girlfriend after only two months of dating. For the rest of the world, it’s not so big of a deal.

I was honored and also unprepared for what would happen that night.

Latinos love family gatherings. In attendance were Sally’s parents, her sister, 3 sets of aunts and uncles, 8 cousins, and her grandparents. It was a full house. One of the distinguished guests whom I will never forget is Uncle Bobby.

Uncle Bobby (full name was Roberto), is a character — to say the least. He was definitely the comedian of the family. He always wanted to get into stand-up comedy but never really pursued his dreams. Instead, he became a carpenter and settled for cracking jokes on his family and friends.

Unfortunately, I was his verbal punching bag that evening. He roasted me like Christmas chicken. Cooked to perfection.

The moment that Sally introduced me to Uncle Bobby, he was laughing his ass off. “HAHAHAHAHA! So you’re the farter?” I went bright red and the whole family was laughing.

He followed up with “Mia (Sally’s mom), you better open all the windows and doors after dinner, or else we will all die.”

This dude was a complete savage. Throwing daggers at every chance he could the whole evening. The worst part was when we started opening gifts after dinner.

Uncle Bobby and his wife actually gave me a gift. I was so scared to open it. Mainly because he was giggling in the corner like a little boy that did something naughty.

I unwrapped it cautiously.

As I ripped the paper, I saw different colorful patterns, hand-sewn onto some kind of material. I opened it up and it was a blanket that Sally’s aunt made for me. But inside the wrapped blanket was something else. I unfolded the blanket and inside were Uncle Bobby’s gifts…

A bottle of Pepto Bismol and a pack of adult diapers. Everyone in that house died of laughter. I have never felt so embarrassed in my life.

At least I never farted that evening.

…

The Breakdown of The Relationship

Even though my relationship with Sally was full of laughter and good times, there were moments in between that were not so funny.

Latinas are known for having fiery tempers. Sally was no exception. We would get into heated arguments about breakdowns in communication or having polar-opposite viewpoints about various topics. Sometimes we fought over the stupidest things.

The relationship was eroding into toxicity.

We fight, we make-up, we laugh, we fight, we make-up, and we laugh. A constant cycle that we were looped in every few weeks. And I had a very childish way of handling it.

Whenever I would get so mad, I’d walk away. And you know what I did in those moments? I consumed a LOT of dairy. I would drink half a jug of milk or eat half a tub of ice cream.

Why?

Because I am Lactose Intolerant. So my way of getting back at her was to have dairy. And about 30 minutes later, I would need to poop. But I wouldn’t poop right away. I would hold it in for a while.

Sometimes as long as another 30 minutes. And then I’d try to talk to her and just fart.

When people who are Lactose Intolerant consume a lot of dairy, be warned, that will be some of the nastiest gas that you have ever smelled before. This could last for hours depending on how much dairy was consumed.

So I did this after two fights and each time she would have a knee-jerk reaction where she almost vomited both times. It was as if the experience of the first date had traumatized her and now she was suffering from PTSD. The nasty smell of those farts would trigger her body to react to the smell.

You could argue that my farts were domestic abuse.

She knew that I was doing it on purpose so before we had a third fight, she threw out all the dairy down the sink or into the garbage without me knowing. Then she exploded on me.

After the fight, I tried to look for dairy in the fridge and the freezer but couldn’t find any. Then I saw the empty containers in the trash and realized she had caught on to my dirty little tactics.

After 6 months of ups and downs, our relationship was finally coming to an end.

…

The Break-Up

I remember coming home from work and Sally was sitting on the couch looking anxious.

I dropped my keys on the table and walked over to her “You okay babe?” I asked.

Sally replied:

“Baby I need to tell you something. There’s no easy way to say it so I’m just going to say it. I have a new job opportunity… but it’s in Australia and I think I’m going to take it.”

I didn’t know how to react to the news when it first hit me. I was kind of in shock. After a few seconds I said “Hey, that’s wonderful. Right? But you don’t seem so happy or excited though.”

Tears started rolling down her face.

“I’m sorry, I should have talked to you about it but I just don’t think my career will go anywhere here and I think it’s a really good opportunity for me. I didn’t want to miss this opportunity so I already accepted the offer.”

I wiped her tears and I said to her “Yes, this is great for you and your career… but what about us?”

She started to cry more

“Well… you can always visit when I’m settled. We can keep in touch you know?”

Now I started tearing up “Of course, I’ll come and see you.” I couldn’t help but feel from her response that she choose to start a new life in Australia without me and didn’t really want me to come.

That’s when I knew it was really over.

I didn’t fight to keep our relationship alive because I felt like she was done.

We sobbed and held each other for an hour.

She packed her things and left.

…

The Strange Aftermath

Like most break-ups, there’s a grieving process.

All kinds of thoughts and emotions. Memories of good times and the bad. In time, it gets easier. But something strange happened. A month after our breakup, I bumped into Sally randomly.

“Hey! what are you doing back in Vancouver?” I said in a slightly excited tone.

She was surprised to run into me.

“Oh hi, I uh… This isn’t a happy visit. A friend of mine just lost her aunt so I am here to support her.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Do you need me to come to the funeral?” I replied.

“Oh, no. This will be a small service for close family and friends. But that’s very sweet.” She barely made eye contact with me when we were talking.

“Okay… it’s been a while since we last spoke. We should catch up. How long are you in town for?”

“I’m going back to Australia tomorrow. I kind of need my own space at this time. Let’s talk another time maybe? She turned and then walked away.

“Yeah… some other time…” I said quietly to myself.

I watched her walk down the street until I couldn’t see her anymore. It was a strange interaction. Almost like talking to a ghost.

Another month passes and I saw Sally again. But this time, she was on the other side of the street. There were a lot of cars going up and down both directions of the street. I waited patiently to cross safely. But by the time I got to the other side I had lost sight of her. I ran around for a bit but couldn’t find her. Strange.

Two weeks later when I was on the train, I could have sworn I saw her sitting in the train going the opposite direction. I started to question my sanity. Did I really see her? was my eyesight going bad? or maybe I just miss her and my brain is mistaking other people for her. I tried calling but it said her phone number was disconnected.

And then the idea hit me.

There was no job in Australia. She wanted to break up with me but didn’t have the heart to tell me the truth. Maybe she was afraid of the pain it would cause. Or maybe she couldn’t handle the farts.
How do you tell someone you want to break up with them because their ass is nasty?

It’s been 5 years since we broke up. I had never spoken to her since we ran into each other randomly on the street. I also haven’t seen her since that moment on the train.

Wherever she is, I hope she’s happy. And I hope she found love again.

To everyone who reads this story, may this be a lesson to never eat too much Mexican food before you kiss someone. And please be civilized and not fart around your partner.

Live more. Laugh more. Love more.

Thanks for reading.

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This post was previously published on medium.com.

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The post How to Traumatize Your Partner in 6 Months appeared first on The Good Men Project.