I’m Going to Die Alone and That’s Okay: The Story of The Psycho

No great love story ever started with, “We met on Tinder.”

Case in point. I met a guy on Tinder. We talked on the app for a few days, and then exchanged phone numbers. Texted back and forth. Tried to make plans for a weekend, but I had my kids and the only window of time I had didn’t work for him. So we texted for another week or so, and then made plans for a Friday night that I didn’t have my kids.

I went to his house. He made me dinner and we had a fire in his backyard. He has a big, lovely property. Grows fruits and vegetables and sells them. He grows grapes for wine in a lovely little mini vineyard setup, with lights strung through them. It’s quite beautiful, actually. And he has a really sweet dog.

We had a great night, actually. He was funny; I spent a lot of time laughing. I will be honest and say that I wasn’t expecting him to be very smart, based on the limited information I had about him, but was pleasantly surprised that he could actually hold a conversation and use two syllable words. We talked a lot. I got to know quite a bit about him, and shared some things about myself.

Once it got too cold to stay outside, we went inside to watch a movie.

When it was time to leave, he was very sweet. Walked me to my car, said he wanted to see me again, and asked me to text him when I got home safely. If you know me, this is a big deal to me. I’ve told friends that all I want is for a guy to ask me to text him when I got home. So, this gained him some major points.

We made plans to see each other again a few days later. I went back to his house. He ordered a pizza and we watched Family Guy on Netflix and then some baseball. It was a much more casual night but I enjoyed it more. I started to have a couple feelings for this guy.

Again, when I left, he asked me to text him when I got home.

A few days later we tried to make plans. He asked when he could see me again and I said whenever. I told him that I had my kids for the next several days, but I could get a babysitter or he could come over after they were in bed. He said okay, but we didn’t pick a date.

I work part time for a caterer. The opportunity came up to work an event on Saturday, so I took it. I hadn’t heard from The Psycho about a date, so I didn’t think anything of taking the job.

Thursday night The Psycho texted me and asked the general area of where I live. I jokingly said why, are you coming over? And he said “not tonight.” That was that.

Friday he texted me again. Friday I was really sick. I told him that he could come over, but I may or may not just fall asleep on him. He said that he was actually planning on coming Saturday night. I told him oh, I am working this event. He got mad because I had said that he could come “whenever he wanted” and now I was contradicting myself and had lied. Red flag? Well, maybe not. I had said that he could see me whenever. I should have been more specific. My bad.

So I told him that I wasn’t sure when the event would be over, but maybe I could come over after. He seemed okay with that response, and even talked me through a schedule of how he thought my event would go and when he felt I should be done. Seemed weird, but okay.

Saturday morning he texted me to ask if I still wanted to see him. I responded that I really did, but I wasn’t sure what time I would be done and I didn’t want him to waste his time waiting around for me. I told him that I could text him throughout the night and he could let me know if he still wanted me to come.

He called me, really upset with me. He would not let me get a word in, and then got mad that I didn’t have anything to say for myself. When I did try to talk, he interrupted me constantly, saying that I was lying to him, contradicting myself, playing games, creating drama. He told me that I was being selfish and inconsiderate and rude. I told him that I was actually trying to be the opposite, by being honest in that I didn’t know when I would be done. And I was trying to be considerate by not making him wait around.

I had to leave for the event, so I was talking to him while I drove to pick up my friend. She got in the car and he was still yelling at me. By this point I was getting pretty sick of defending myself. I would like to add in here that Saturday was 8 days after I had met him for the first time. 8 days. If this is how he acts on Day 8, what would day 80 be like? Day 800?

I told him I didn’t like how he was treating me and that I didn’t need to sit there and be yelled at. He called me a bitch. I hung up on him. My friend looked at me with understanding her eyes and said, “Your ex?” I said, “No, it was a guy that I just started dating EIGHT DAYS AGO.” Her understanding eyes almost popped out of her head.

He called back, and I handed the phone to my friend because I was driving and not interested in this bullshit. She answered and told him that I was driving and we were on our way to the job site. He called her a bitch.

He blew up my phone with texts for the rest of the afternoon. Basically saying how I was so rude and inconsiderate. I am a liar. I play games. But he would see me at 9 to talk about it. That I would be there by 9. That I better be there by 9.

At this point, I did not want to go to his house. I mean, can you blame me? I told him that, and he said that we needed to talk in person. He said that if he never saw me again after tonight he would be fine with that, but that we needed to end it in person. End what? I’d seen him twice.

I told him that I would meet him at a bar in my town for a drink and we could talk there. I didn’t want to drive half an hour to get yelled at. Also, public place. He told me that the plan was for me to go there, and so I would go there. He said that he would not be coming to me, and that he would see me at 9. He told me that if I didn’t come I would regret it. He said that I needed to keep my word and if I didn’t, he would get revenge on me.

We actually got done at the event fairly early. I dropped my friend off. And I’m a fucking idiot and I went to his house. I didn’t know what kind of revenge he meant, but I didn’t want to risk it. I wanted to tell him in person that I was not okay with how he was treating me and I wasn’t going to see him anymore. Because I’m an idiot.

So I went there and we talked. He was rude and not very kind, calling me names and yelling at me, but yet shifted all the blame to me because I had said “whenever”. Once we were done talking, I wasn’t as mad at him anymore but I definitely did not want to keep seeing him. He kissed me. I told him I wasn’t going to have sex with him tonight. He told me that I owed him a blow job instead. I asked how he figured that? He said that I came to his house and I came inside, so that means that I owed him sex. And that if I wasn’t going to have sex with him, I better give him the blow job he deserved.

I laughed. He must be kidding. Over the past eight days he had shown me a sense of humour. He had to be kidding…right?

He started yelling at me more. Shouting at me that I needed to give him his blow job before I could leave. I told him I had to pee and I grabbed my purse and left.

As I was driving home he called me about how rude I was, and that I could have left things on good terms (after I gave him his blow job). I said that trying to coerce me into sexual acts was not okay with me. That I had said I wasn’t interested and he had a tantrum.

Then he said that he had wanted to talk to me about a couple other things but I had left, and now I would have to find out later. I would find out, but not from him. I was confused. What? He said, you’ll find out. And when you do, don’t call me about it because it will be too late.

He said that when people fuck him over, he gets “the last and most significant revenge.” He told me that he knows a lot about me, and that if I didn’t come back to his house and finish the conversation, I would regret it. Not today and not tomorrow, but soon. I’d find out what he could do and I’d regret this.

Um. Fucking weird. What?! What kind of fucked up threat is that?

He kept texting me that night. I tried to diffuse the situation and tell him that I wished him the best. That it was nice meeting him, and that we were too different to work but that I wished him the best of luck.

He said, yes, the stories and videos were fun.

What videos?????????

Yes, that’s right. He told me that he has videos of me. I thought back over our time together and I tried to think of what personal information he had about me. He knew the general area in which I live. He knew that I have children. He knew where I work. So I freaked out.

I changed my privacy settings on Facebook. I blocked him on every social media site I have. I googled him and found a story someone else had written about him, that I very much wish I had read beforehand.

My friends convinced me to call the police. I felt like an idiot doing so, but I have children. I can’t put them at risk. So I called, and an officer visited me at home. He looked up The Psycho and told me that he has a long list of complaints filed against him. Apparently he has a history of meeting women online and then going crazy.

My take on that? I almost didn’t call the police. I only called because I have wonderful friends who have my back and convinced me to call. I only called because I have two young girls. But if I didn’t have my children, I would not have called.

If he has a long list of women who HAVE reported him, how many haven’t? That’s terrifying to me. I reported him to Tinder and they told me they won’t remove him from the site. So he is free to keep meeting women online. He’s free to keep doing what he’s doing.

So yeah. I’m going to die alone. And I’m okay with that. Because no great love story ever started with Tinder.
Regret Scoring: 10/10

Does this even need an explanation? All the regrets.

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