I Dated Lord Voldemort*

Subtitle: Signs you might be dating the wrong man.

He was one of those guys who looked good in theory. He was smart, well educated, traveled extensively and had a job. He was also a graduate student and understood the demands of balancing a full course schedule with a almost-full-time job.

Things are great at first. Conversation is wonderful. He has interesting ideas. His parents like me. We have a good time together.

With all those good qualities, it was easy to overlook the fact that he preferred to drive the five blocks to his gym to work out. That he sulked when he perceived that he was not getting his “way”. That every public outing turned into an argument over how much time I spend staring at other men. That his confession that he fantasized about having sex another man was simply a healthy display of sexuality. That he dropped classes on a whim.

I blame myself for the problems we were having. I'm still bruised over J** ending our relationship, my first love gone awry. I decide I need more time on my own.

Forward a year. We meet cute in a local restaurant. I decide to be civilized. We start dating again. For a very short period of time things go well.

Then the fights start up again. I can't go anywhere with him because I am subjected to abuse over my “wandering eyes”. He wants me to “confess” that I want to sleep with other men, that I find them more attractive then him. More sulking fits when I refuse to tell him what he wants to hear. Intense pressure to give him permission to purchase me a cell phone.

He goes away for a weekend. He calls shortly after his return. I tell him that I don't want to see him again, that he makes me feel bad about myself and I don't think there is anything about me that I need to feel bad about. He says that is untrue, that my feeling bad has nothing to do with him. He says breaking up “isn't going to work for me”. That he thinks there is more he can get out of our relationship.

I respond that breaking up works just fine for me. I hang up the phone. I go on to date other, nicer men. My heart breaks a second time, but I survive. J comes back.

*Bonus points if you can guess what relationship the man in question has to a villain in a series of children's novels.
**Yes, J my husband.

Asides:

1: How do you know when a team is really bad? When they can't win a game in spite of the pushing, whining, outright cheating and the possession of three out of four referees on their payroll.

I am not saying the Penguins played a fantastic game today. They were terrible. But the awfulness that is this year's Flyers was a thing of beauty. So was the Penguins sweeping the series. And Michel Therrien, normally stoic during games, earning a bench minor late in the first period for calling the referees (collectively) a very inappropriate name.

2: The tendinitis in my right wrist has returned, forcing me back into a most uncomfortable brace when doing computer work to avoid a deep, throbbing pain from wrist to elbow that keeps me awake at night. I'll also have to resume the sporadic physical therapy exercises I'm supposed to be doing every day.