Don't Cry For Me, Chicago. I Can Handle Rejection.

My co-workers started affectionally calling me StoneHeart a few years ago after I gave a goodbye speech at a staff meeting when I was leaving the organization after 13 years. It was my first full-time job and consider these people as family. I was moving to Oklahoma, and yet that still didn’t make me cry. It was a very emotional time, and they thought I should’ve shed some tears. But I also don’t fawn over babies. Or dogs. I don’t need a box of Kleenex when I watch The Biggest Loser.

So a few weeks ago, I met a guy at a as I was leaving a country concert. We chatted for about five minutes and then gave me his phone number as my friends were giving me the signal to hurry up. And then I forgot about it.

Last week while I was at the Wisconsin football game, I was telling my friend about the concert and I remembered that I had that guy’s phone number.  So I texted him. He responded within minutes. The conversation started with some witty banter about the night at the concert and then we both revealed that we didn’t remember exactly what the other looked like because it was such a quick encounter at the end of a long night. He asked me to send a photo, but not in the creepy take-a-selfie-in-the-bathroom-mirror kinda way. So I sent one from earlier that day at the game. It was a group shot with my friends, and I identified myself as the brunette since I was amongst all blondes.

wisconsin game

No response that night. Or the next day. Or the next weekend. It’s been 10 days of silence. And I’m okay. I still don’t need that box of Kleenex. But every time I tell this story to a friend, they freak.

“Oh my gosh, that’s horrible,” some say. “Are you okay?”

“Holy crap, that’s harsh,” others say. “You are a beautiful person inside and out.”

They immediately start consoling me. Making excuses of why he hasn’t written back.  He must not have gotten the photo.  He’s probably super busy.  They were trying to boost my self confidence. Feeling sorry for me at the same time.  And for those who don’t know me as well, they wait to see if I’m going to tear up.

Of course, I just laugh. I talked to this guy for five minutes. I wouldn’t recognize him if he walked by me on the street. I’m okay.  If there is only one person I’m meant to be with, why should I be surprised when something doesn’t work out.

Rejection is all part of the dating game, and how I deal with it factors into how successful I will be throughout this whole find a boyfriend process. But I’m curious. Would you let this affect you?  Would it be a blow to your ego? Should I be crying?  I’d love to hear from you! Tweet me @HitzAndMrs or comment below!

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