Peter Pan
November 20th, 2002 at 5:43 pm (Favourites, She)
It seems it upset some readers that I only write stories that make me look good. Well, this one’s for you.
In retrospect, its odd to write about it. I mean, this is not Your Average Shidduch Story. In my mind, it was a love story. On par with Gone With The Wind. A classic. So to write about it now, a year later, is strange. Its far removed from the emotion that, at the time, made it everything it was. So I don’t know what it will be.
But I do know its the most honest piece I’ve ever written.
The truth is, that when I saw him walking through the hotel lobby door the first time, all I thought was, “oh Gd, please not him”. He looked very tense, and his haircut was awful. Then, when he ignored me for the initial twenty minutes of our date and wouldn’t approach me to see if I was in fact his date, I could sense it was going to be one of those little nightmare shidduchim.
Ohh…where is my feminine intuition when I need it…..
The evening went rather well, he was clever and witty and made me laugh, all good things.
We even discussed Radiohead’s Exit Music’s notes. I mean what can be better.
So we went out again. And again. For 4 whole dates he spoke of nothing but himself. His life, his work, his yeshiva, his blue shirt, his hair, his past, his palm pilot, his website yada yada, truly a remarkable ability to focus of nothing but himself.
So I figured I got the idea of this guy and I’m not going to go out with him again. When he called me after that I told him I think he made his point quite clearly that he has room for no one but himself and that I dont want to go out with him again. Buh bye.
Quite surprisingly, he sounded disappointed. He asked me again, emphasasing his gorgeous foreign accent, promising to behave and to try and be less self-centered.
So I figured why not. Its the accent really.
But I told my flatmates I’m only going out again to make sure I’m doing the right thing by ending it.
What we call To Verify The Killing.
So I met with him again, I came to the date in a combat sort of mood.
He was charming.
I SPOKE, he LISTENED, and even seemed interested, it was all very calm and pleasant. I wasn’t just laughing in the background like before, as if I was a cheerleader in the crowd (GO YOU HUSKIES!!), I was actually a person in that conversation.
I came back to my flat and announced that there has been a change in plan.
I was really beginning to like him.
So we continued going out.
One day we were talking about getting together later that evening. I told him I was PMSing and very moody. It made him doubt the whole evening plans but I insisted. Wont let a minor possibillity of breaking loose and bursting into tears in the middle of the date to get in my way.
So we met. And he brought me three (I repeat, three) packs of chocolates to make it all better.
I think my hormones were shocked. I know my emotions were.
This went on for many, many dates, and by the 10th date knew I was in love. Yes, me, the queen of not feeling anything for anyone, the Master Dumper of unsuspecting yeshiva bocherim, in love. Bizarre indeed.
That he is THE ONE , it seemed shocking but appropriate. He was intimidatingly clever, and amazingly funny. He was sensitive to my emotional needs. He used to say such sweet things to me. Oh Gd, those words. I was someone’s for a while. I was a dear and a daaaaahling and all those wonderful things you can only dream of after being in seminary surrounded by women for so many years. I was his, properly. I was so in love with him, and I was ready to make that final commitment.
Then he disappeared. Vanished, into thin air. One day I was his… his date, his future, the next day, who knows what I was, because he stopped calling. Seeing as how this happened right after I had baked him a birthday cake, I had to wonder if somehow I had accidentally poisoned him.
I phoned him but his flatmate kept saying he wasn’t there. It was the same scenario, over and over.
I kind of got the hint but in my confusion, I didnt believe that this was happening.
I wanted to hear him say it; to tell me it was over so at least I would have some closure, whatever that means.
So I did what any persistent woman would do - I called and called until finally I got him on the phone.
It seems that after three months of dating we find out that he had a problem with commitment. Things that last forever scared him, and he had just then figured out that marriage lasts more than five minutes.
My heart was broken. I cried a lot and painted two of the most miserable paintings ever.
I wouldnt eat, I slept for days and wouldnt talk to my flat mates, and me being quite the very-talkative-never-sleeping type, that’s quite worrying.
The up-side of all of this misery was that I lost weight and looked the best I had in years; the down-side was that I wouldnt leave my flat so no one really saw me.
I tried to force myself to get over him.
I even went shopping. Hell, I said, the great thing about being a woman is that there isn’t a state of depression that a new pair of boots can’t make all better.
And it sort of did feel better for a while.
I seemed to have fooled everyone for a while, even myself.
Then cruel harsh reality set in, for the next two months I thought of nothing but him, I longed for him. People threw out the “time heals” jab; of course that didnt work for me - it was only getting harder to pretend that this relationship didnt affect me. I thought of him constantly. The desire for him grew bigger and bigger till it was too much for me to contain,
Till I couldn’t bear it no more
and I broke
in front of his face actually.
I made no attempts to hide my misery from him.
I know girls are supposed to play the game, be hard to get, be cool and detached, something. I don’t know these games. I wish I did.
I called him, I ICQ’d him, I smashed the fact that I’m broken, and hurt, and still so very much in love, into his face until he must have bled from the impact.
I in hindsight suppose that my actions were incredibly silly. I could have been the legend in his mind, the one he passed up when he should have made the commitment. He would have dated each and every new girl, comparing them to me. Alas, instead he began to think I was unsound.
I have to admit that I even think I became a scary nag monster. I actually ended up calling him up in tears, using the phrase “we need to be together, I’m sorry you cant see it now, but you will, and I’m planning to be around when you finally do”.
I mean how pathetic.
I can see it clearly now, and I have to admit, that as I was spouting all these horribly love-lorn, so-obviously-not-me, things at him, he was being very kind to me. He listened to me, he commiserated, he spoke kind words, he told me that it was just him; there are things that he needs to work through.
I’m sure that you have all heard the same speech before.
I suspect he was just feeling sorry for me, or he was beginning to be so scared of me, he didnt want to get me even more upset. So he saved his final humiliation. I’m not sure he should have, if I had known how he really felt I might have begun to heal a lot faster.
He was just so not definite. And that was the most horrible thing to bear. That maybe there’s still hope. Maybe he can like me again and I’ll feel beautiful and special like I used to when I was with him.
I used to have my own private conversations with him in my head before going to bed, telling him he’s my sweetness, my darling, my love for all time. Then sleep. Every night.
I knew the night is when I think of him, I tried to exhaust myself in order to just faint as soon as I put my head on the pillow so I wouldnt be able to think. My fake plastic love.
Eventually I gave up. I had to. For the sake of me being sane and healthy again, for I felt like I was properly about to lose it. Of course I didn’t walk away before he lost his patience with me. First I let him make me feel like a complete loser, I was ashamed of even breathing. I couldnt do anything right.
I believed his criticism.
It finally came down to him begging me, please do not write to me or call me anymore. PLEASE!
That was the first time he was actually being definite.
So I stopped.
It took me a while to let go. I had to realise that it wasnt me who gave up on him. It was him who gave me up a long time ago.
Now, I don’t know what about him, but I do know that things had begun to get much better for me ever since.
Okay so not much really.
Fine so not at all.
I still miss him.
There you have it.
And now I’m back on cheerful sunny shidduch-land, where the sun shines brightest of all, and boy, let me tell you its all just hip and jolly over here, pink fluffy bunny rabbits all the way,
They even serve free martinies for the golden card members.
M said,
November 20, 2002 at 6:10 pm
i think you’re amazing.
lily said,
November 20, 2002 at 8:44 pm
you told him you were PMSing?!
are girls supposed to give that kind of information to their dates?
She said,
November 20, 2002 at 9:08 pm
I suppose you can add that to my countless, countless mistakes.
E said,
November 20, 2002 at 9:19 pm
Either your English has magically improved by phenomanal leaps and bounds, or someone is “ghost-writing” this for you. Either way, there is nothing embarrassing about a women’s menstrual cycle.
She said,
November 21, 2002 at 12:30 am
Writing this in English was the hardest thing for me to do.
Kelly said,
November 21, 2002 at 1:31 am
That story doesn’t make you look bad, it makes you look normal. Poor broken heart.
Shu said,
November 21, 2002 at 2:21 am
I’m still waiting for my free martinies.
where the hell are they?
& She,
you are a brave person.
really.
shimra said,
November 21, 2002 at 6:11 am
I know this has nothing to do with anything but I just got my onlysimchas account suspended for putting up a pic of JLo and Ben on the engagement page. P.S. I’ve done worse than you. I once ran after my ex in bare feet across several city streets in manhattan! don’t ask why.
j5 said,
November 21, 2002 at 5:16 pm
Another great story I think we have all felt that pain before. Shimra great idea putting up the jlo ben pic on only simchas wish i had thought of it.
She said,
November 21, 2002 at 6:29 pm
Shimra, you’re brilliant.
Married Male said,
November 21, 2002 at 7:29 pm
Bored at work, I recently stumbled on this site. While your stories are always entertaining, I was often left with a bittersweet feeling. This story trully shows that you are not as jaded or callous as you portray yourself. You had your heart broken bad. You made a pretty big fool of yourself. Who hasn’t? At least you are strong enough to acknowledge what happened to you and try to move on.
You know the saying, it’s better to have loved and lost? Well thats nonsense. It sucks to have lost. The only thing that ultimately gets you past that, is to have found ‘the one’ who doesnt break your heart. That is when you ‘fully’ get past those scars on your heart. In the meantime, look at the bright side, you are entertaining all of your fans with your various stories. AT least we are enjoying ourselves.
a fan said,
November 21, 2002 at 9:59 pm
oh my poor she… peter pan doesnt know what hes missing….
m said,
November 22, 2002 at 4:00 am
somehow, i missed the pms thing, maybe it’s better that my eyes somehow magically skipped it. Pink Fluffy bunny rabbits? Now where did i hear that one before. Anyways, it sounded really serious. But why didnt this wonderfull fellow realize that he wasnt ready for commitment before he went out with you?
Kids, shidduchim arent jokes, speak to your parents about commitment, isnt it better that they dont learn it on the streets?
A message from the C.F.L foundation
Commitment. For. Life
shanin said,
November 24, 2002 at 6:41 am
-you are incredible…
-i feel as though i have met my match in wit…
-for i, the incredible baalas teshuvah turned wild woman after 8 years have many many stories incorporated into my life while i still continued to celebrate the holy shabbos in a sincere way…
i am confused, and celebrate my confusion through my understanding of you.
i think your english rocks…
i too, pine for someone…
yuri said,
November 25, 2002 at 9:32 pm
dear she
you poor thing i am sure your heart was broken.
punims said,
November 27, 2002 at 5:47 am
Posting…… for the gazzilionth time! Oy… I lost my ‘chaishek’ to post already.
Punims said,
November 28, 2002 at 6:15 am
Anyway, what I was gonna write was this: (someone just told it to me)
Guy1: Would you trust a girl?
Guy2: I would never trust anything that bleeds for 5 days and doesn’t die!
ze uzzer German said,
November 28, 2002 at 12:49 pm
@Punims: If I only knew how they spell “yikhs” in English.
Personally, I don’t feel we need to look that far when talking about blood. I can tell you I don’t trust myself because I bleed for about 25 out of 31 days in a month … And that’s just ONE of the misgivings I have about shaving.
She said,
November 29, 2002 at 12:32 pm
I’ve been getting lots of sympathy emails.
Thank you so much. Really.
I’m doing okay, most of the time.
All in all it was just another brick in the wall.
me said,
December 2, 2002 at 9:20 pm
she.. i really do believe that only one person can make it all better.
but at least youre skinny.
sad said,
December 5, 2002 at 1:24 am
This is such a sad story.
That is all.
aharon said,
December 5, 2002 at 3:23 pm
that was a really, really moving post. it’s very brave of you to show that side of yourself.
you’re really something else, refreshing.
you don’t know how lovely you are.
Jelly Beans said,
December 6, 2002 at 1:47 am
I think a lot of us can identify with your story (unfortunately)
you truly are a brave person,
I wish you lots of luck and hope you find your bashert SOON!!!
Just a Guy said,
December 7, 2002 at 6:13 pm
The most painful thing in this story, I think, is that it seems that you are not the type who falls in love easily with just anyone…
I’m sorry you gave your heart to someone who could not handle it. BH you will very soon find the one who is worthy of your heart, and will feel the same for you.
She said,
December 7, 2002 at 9:53 pm
INSHALLAH.
She said,
December 9, 2002 at 1:53 pm
er…it means Omein/ iyH in Arabic.
Sorry, I forgot I’m probably the ONLY Israeli around here….
YS said,
December 10, 2002 at 1:12 am
Not the only Israeli. (OK so I’m 1/2)
As to the dates, hope springs eternal for us all.
I’ve been peeking at your site on occasion and am blown away by your ESL (English as a Second Language) skills. I moved here and have become non-lingual.
J said,
December 24, 2002 at 8:41 pm
Oh..so sad… It really is a moving post, you have a very deeply emotional writing style on this one….Hope things are better now!
mindi said,
December 25, 2002 at 2:11 am
you know what I liked the most? where you say you had “your own private conversations” with him in your thoughts, coz that’s so honest. and real.
mm said,
December 25, 2002 at 11:04 pm
Beautifully written piece. I am sure you could get it published if you wanted to.
Sarah said,
December 26, 2002 at 9:42 pm
I think we all felt that pain before.
micro said,
December 27, 2002 at 3:42 am
mm is right - you realy have amazing writing skills, and in english no less.
joe said,
December 27, 2002 at 6:47 am
yup, your english rocks.
She said,
December 28, 2002 at 9:12 pm
Thanks, I get by with a little help from my (English speaker) friends… Plus, I have to admit that my English has improved lots actually thanks to Peter Pan himself.
G said,
January 5, 2003 at 11:40 am
that is probably the best story on the site. you should add it to your “favorites”.
no name said,
January 10, 2003 at 2:36 pm
i don’t think i ever read anything this honest.
AsIF said,
January 13, 2003 at 2:17 pm
Okay so I totally relate, because when I met this boy, I thought for various reasons that this was fate, a sign from hashem, but then he dumped me and even though I knew deep down he was too religious (monsey style) for me, I turned into a raving psychotic b….h. but he didnt dump me in a very nice way at all - he called me after a very deep and moving conversation and said its over and hanged up before I had a chance to rely and then I never really spoke to him again. I didnt even know i had it in me to be like that….before him I had never really talked to boys much less love one..so to make a long story short he got married and I forever feel a little bit unstable and completely embarassed. Such is life eh?
Hmm said,
January 13, 2003 at 2:18 pm
Thank god you have a menstrual cycle, otherwise there will never be any little mini-she’s out there one day
The Who said,
January 14, 2003 at 12:12 am
everyone I know who read your story said it helped them, that they’re not the only ones going thru that. the people here love you and the fact that you’ve posted it, with all its honesty and emotions and courage, is making a true difference in some people’s lives so thank you.
shua said,
March 28, 2003 at 7:00 am
That was brutally honest and moving. I admire your courage. Remember that it wasnt meant to be. You WILL find your bashert!
Tiger Lily said,
April 28, 2003 at 10:43 pm
wow…
i helps to find out that i am not the only over reactive, over sensitive, raving bitch on wheels who dwells in self-pity due to some emotionally unstable and forever immature Peter Pan. felt like the scum of the earth… just 2 weeks ago…. and even though felt the “click” and think that i am over him…. why the hell do i miss him still?? dont know - probably never will….. but great to know there are other tiger lily’s in the world…..
Abcyr said,
April 30, 2003 at 2:21 am
She,
You have a genuine literary talent. Why waste it on this site? Write books, magazines, encyclopedias! I do feel sorry for you. You see, your exagerated intelligence is the prime cause of your unhapiness. The Rambam said all things must converge at the golden mean. You brilliance robs you of harmony, like a mouse stealing holly socks under from under my bed. G-d bless your soul, she.
Abcyr said,
April 30, 2003 at 10:37 pm
Are these seduction lines tempting, or just corny Gotta learn to be charming like that Peter Pan jerk.
“To a Radioactive JAP”
Your presence is a hearth; I in its warmth delight.
Of all the JAPs on earth You are the one most bright.
And you’re the least uptight, like Cinderella’s shoe.
Like Cinderella’s shoe, you are the one that’s right.
I’ve heard it strike midnight; a knightly adieu.
and out of your sight. Deliciously polite –
Sincerely, Charming II.
She said,
May 1, 2003 at 12:05 am
Hmmm… I don’t think I qualify for being a JAP, so I wouldn’t really know… (too Israeli for that, I suppose)
Abcyr said,
May 1, 2003 at 1:08 am
She, the poetic arrow-head wasn’t aimed at anyone in specific, rather at everyone in general. BTW, JAP besides ‘jewish american princess’ has another equally as infamous denotation - Japanese; hence “Radioactive JAP” = Radioactive Japan. Aint it clever of me, hee hee.
But, seriously now, girls, ladies, women, and She, what I’m asking is this: do femaled people still find simple courtship cliches and rituals enticingly flattering, like: “you are the one most bright”? “your presence is a hearth, I in its warmth delight”? “you are the one that’s right”? And are women still seeking their Prince Charming? Or has everything changed from the way it was. If roses have grown corny these days, I wonder if anything remains in the old-school romantic garden?
PS
The one about selling you the moon and marlboro was awesome. I wish there was a method for generating flirt lines.
reader said,
May 2, 2003 at 2:01 am
Boys don’t cry, but that one brought me awefully close. Your an excellent writer; have you thought about becoming a novelist?
For anyone ever in love they’ll know the hardest part is having hope, it would be much easier if you could just take it or leave it at face value. I’m really sorry for you, but if it makes you feel any better I’m sure you’ll find ‘the one’ soon.
Btw, does anything remain in the old school romantic garden? I’d like to think it’s pretty much left intact, but what do I know?
She said,
May 2, 2003 at 3:18 pm
I think it’s complicated, I think we’re looking for someone truly enchanting, but I know that at some point, for whatever reason, you stop waiting.
Mug said,
May 7, 2003 at 1:59 am
girl, that was truly heartbreaking… Best of luck,
Goodness Gracious said,
May 14, 2003 at 8:54 pm
Bad Peter Pan away, he ran,
and ran, and flew, and rolled.
But if he returns, he’ll surely fall
into Daniels’s dan,
where lions roar
in hungry fits,
their stomachs sore,
and so forlorn.
And he wont live forever for
he’ll be torn by morn
to bits.
She said,
May 14, 2003 at 9:04 pm
You promise?
Goodness Gracious said,
May 14, 2003 at 9:40 pm
Which part do you desire me to promise? I see clearly a number of alternatives.
She said,
May 14, 2003 at 9:52 pm
The tearing to shreds bit. Very emotional.
Goodness Gracious said,
May 14, 2003 at 10:02 pm
Chas v”sholom. To hurt another yid is a very immature thing to do. Figuratively speaking I can tear him appart post his photograph, I’ll print it out and rip it to shreds. I appreaciate your emotional receptivity and reciprocation to the poetic fruit of my amateurish cerebration. Glad to butter and serve in rhyme and prose for entertainment and education of all, young and old.
Goodness Gracious said,
May 15, 2003 at 2:15 am
Said Wendy, said Wendy:
“Oh pass me some Brandy,
and bubble me Beer for a snack.
And if it be possible, if it be handy,
ferment Peter-Pan in a sack.”
Dovi said,
June 14, 2003 at 7:50 pm
It was very painful to read this story. Deep and emotional.
Mike said,
June 16, 2003 at 3:37 am
This was very moving. Although I won’t reiterate all of the praises mentioned above, I would like to point out that to me this post was quite eye-opening. I’ve grown accustomed to hearing and reading so much “I’m too good to go out with a loser like him” man-bashing that, in my disillusionment, I had almost thought women were incapable of genuinely falling in love.
Postfix Notation said,
June 16, 2003 at 7:31 pm
The sagging firn fingers are shivering here.
Here - the fluttering chirping birds.
You live in a wild enchanted woods.
It is impossible to leave.
Postfix Notation said,
June 16, 2003 at 8:28 pm
Let cherries wither like laundry in the wind;
Let lilacs fall like droplets of rain -
Just the same - I shall take you away
To the collonaded palace
Where the reed-pipes play.
Promptly answer me said,
June 16, 2003 at 8:44 pm
She, how did you learn english so well. How do you know that “tearing” is “to shreds”
and not merely “to bits”. How did you get the hang of it, what’s you secret?
She said,
June 16, 2003 at 9:02 pm
Sheer luck.
(It can’t be “to bits”? Really?)
Promptly etc. said,
June 16, 2003 at 9:34 pm
I don’t think so, or maybe it can but it don’t sound right. To bits can be shattering or breaking.
She said,
June 16, 2003 at 9:41 pm
I usually go by how it sounds.
Humbert said,
June 16, 2003 at 9:53 pm
Did you know that you current blog entry sounds like a famous poem by Robert Frost: called “Design”. Heal All is the name of a type of flower.
I found a dimpled spider, fat and white,
On a white heal-all, holding up a moth
Like a white piece of rigid satin cloth–
Assorted characters of death and blight
Mixed ready to begin the morning right,
Like the ingredients of a witches’ broth–
A snow-drop spider, a flower like a froth,
And dead wings carried like a paper kite.
What had that flower to do with being white,
The wayside blue and innocent heal-all?
What brought the kindred spider to that height,
Then steered the white moth thither in the night?
What but design of darkness to appall?–
If design govern in a thing so small.
anonymous said,
June 22, 2003 at 10:28 pm
the saddest thing is that, it seems out of your writing here that you look back at the whole sage as a “love story”, while he probably remembers it as exactly the opposite…
i’m sorry,
take care
and keep writing.
She said,
June 23, 2003 at 5:46 pm
I do see it as a love story.
And I hope that, with all that has happened, at the bottom line he’ll remember me as someone who loved him.
Oh my gosh said,
June 23, 2003 at 8:10 pm
Was that peder pan himself? I promised he’ll be torn to shreds. First of all, it’s not “sage” but “saga”.
jay said,
June 26, 2003 at 9:33 pm
“Yes, me, the queen of not feeling anything for anyone, the Master Dumper of unsuspecting yeshiva bocherim, in love. Bizarre indeed.”
I must have dated you. Or someone just like you. Sounds familiar. Looks like you got yours. What goes around, comes around. gilgulim.
She said,
June 27, 2003 at 5:17 pm
But of course.
Thank you. So kind.
Rachel said,
July 18, 2003 at 2:30 pm
I just found your site a while ago and I think it’s AWESOME! Youre cool! it’s amazing that you’ve kept your sense of humor…
MEME said,
July 27, 2003 at 6:03 am
ITS SO COOL THAT U CAN WRITE ABOUT UR PERSONAL LIFE.ITS MAKES ME FEEL BETER TO KNOW THAT THEIRS PEOPLE THAT GO THROW THE SAME THING AS ME AND ITS OK TO FEEL THE WAY I FEEL
SHARON said,
July 27, 2003 at 6:13 am
LOOK AT THE BRITE SIDE HE’S NEVER GONNA GET MARRIED WITHOUT HIS MOTHERS APPROVAL MABY HE SHOULD GET MARRIED TO HIS MOTHER SINCE THEY ALREADY KNOW EACH OTHER
fesoy said,
July 28, 2003 at 7:12 pm
I like the story it shows the ability to truly be honest wwiht yourself and other ppl and that is th reason most likely for all these shiduch horror stories upfront blunt honesty.
CG said,
August 11, 2003 at 10:06 am
Just wondering: Anyone out there that actually has a concrete “shopping lits”… written down?? Anyone out there that researches/learns about the person that is about to be met?? We all research potintial employers, right?!
She said,
August 11, 2003 at 8:01 pm
Huh?
And doing the nice little research insures that you wont get dumped? Or am I missing something here?
Uninvisible said,
September 16, 2003 at 9:57 am
Gonna have to change the ending on this one, now won’t you? Well, I don’t think you’ll mind the sub-editing, now will you.
Mazal Tov
Uninvisible said,
September 17, 2003 at 11:41 pm
Ah, I got it:
“What was the last thing Peter ever said to you?”
“The last thing he ever said to me was, ‘Just always be waiting for me, and then some night you will hear me crowing.’”
“Yes,”
“But, alas, he forgot all about me,” Wendy said it with a smile. She was as grown up as that.
“What did his crow sound like?” Jane asked one evening.
“It was like this,” Wendy said, trying to imitate Peter’s crow.
“No, it wasn’t,” Jane said gravely, “it was like this”; and she did it ever so much better than her mother.
Wendy was a little startled. “My darling, how can you know?”
“I often hear it when I am sleeping,” Jane said.
“Ah yes, many girls hear it when they are sleeping, but I was the only one who heard it awake.”
“Lucky you,” said Jane.
WOULDntU LIKE TA KNOW said,
November 24, 2003 at 8:24 pm
I didnt even read the story but I give it two thumbs up………….
OMG said,
January 18, 2004 at 4:25 am
don;t know wot this site is i just found it so i read that story…yea its good …and yea im sure everyone can relate to it…but chill out people u all make it sound like its a master peice.it ain;t all that…no offence SHE