So, I decided that the only way to deal with Ryan and his absolutely ridiculous behavior was to give him a full dose of his own medicine, and not in a passive way but in the most deliberate, calculated form of reciprocation possible. I was going to mirror every petty, shady, and inconsiderate thing he ever did to me, just to see how he'd react when the game wasn't one-sided anymore.
We had been talking for a few days, and looking back, I honestly can't believe how blind I was to the fact that I was slowly getting addicted to our conversations, even though most of them were just him ranting non-stop while I sat there like some overly involved therapist with nothing better to do.
He was a film student which should've been the first red flag and like every other tortured "artist," he was working on a short film with his classmates, but of course, in his opinion, he was the only one putting in any actual effort, while the rest of his team were nothing more than lazy, incompetent, talentless parasites riding on his supposed brilliance.
The way he described his struggles was comically self-important, as if he were Spielberg in a room full of clueless interns, and there was one guy in particular he just could not stop attacking, constantly dragging him for asking what he called "dumb questions," which, okay, I'll admit, the guy might've been a bit slow, but Ryan had also mentioned, in the most casual and insensitive way possible, that the guy might be struggling with some mental issues, which he then used as a punchline instead of showing the slightest bit of empathy.
It was honestly disgusting, but not surprising, because tearing people down was practically Ryan's favorite pastime, and he did it so effortlessly that I don't even think he realized how much of a jerk he sounded like on a daily basis.
Then one day, out of nowhere, he drops this line about how we've been talking for so long and asks when we're finally going to meet in person, to which I suggested something completely normal and harmless like going to an amusement park or catching a movie. You know, regular people stuff but no, that wasn't good enough for him.
Being the pretentious film bro that he was, he launched into this monologue about how, as a true film enthusiast, watching a movie was an experience and could only be enjoyed in a "comfortable space," and little did I know at the time that he was slowly steering the conversation toward manipulating me into agreeing to visit his place under the guise of being "comfortable." I was just nineteen, young, dumb, and clearly not prepared for this level of shamelessness, and at that point, he was still living with his brother and sister-in-law, which obviously made things awkward for him in terms of inviting someone over.
So what does he suggest instead? That I come over to his friend's apartment, because his friend would be out with his girlfriend that day, and he would have the entire flat to himself. Well, how incredibly convenient for him, right?
I mean, are you serious? I barely even know you, I'm already side-eyeing everything about you, and now you expect me to travel over an hour to chill at your friend's apartment just to watch a movie?
No. Absolutely not.
It suddenly clicked that this man wasn't just manipulative, he was also cheap, like painfully cheap, the kind of cheap where instead of actually planning a proper date, he'd rather find the most low-effort way to make things happen while still trying to get all the benefits and it was so obvious he wasn't even slightly embarrassed that his friend was out taking his girlfriend on an actual date while he was trying to convince me to show up at some borrowed apartment like a desperate girl.
His friend, by the way, worked a real job, had moved to a new city, and was supporting himself like a functioning adult, which only made Ryan look even more pathetic by comparison.
So I shut him down right then and there, telling him I wasn't comfortable, and of course, he tried to save face by brushing it off with a "just kidding," only to follow it up with another proposal about how his brother and sister-in-law usually go out every Monday, which means he could have the house all to himself, and he wanted to invite me over for a "cute little cooking session and movie night," and I'll admit, for a second, it actually sounded sweet.
So I went into prep mode — skincare routine, outfit ideas, all of it — only to find out the next day that the plan was dead because his sister-in-law was suddenly sick and didn't go out, meaning the house was occupied and the whole thing collapsed like his sense of maturity.
Now any normal guy in this situation would've just said, "Hey, wanna grab a coffee or go watch a movie instead?" but not Ryan — he took it a step further into insanity and had the nerve to ask, "Can I come to your place instead?"
Sir, what?
I live with my family. There is no universe in which I'm letting them witness how low my standards had temporarily dipped, and I'm certainly not about to host you like it's some Airbnb experience.
Anyway, a few weeks later, he moved in with a friend and messaged me with, "Now you can come over anytime without worrying," and added, "If you want me, you can come this weekend," which, let me just say, was the most unappealing invitation I've ever received in my life. Don't make it sound like I'm dying to show up at your crusty apartment — I told him straight up that if I didn't feel like he was equally excited to meet me, then I wasn't coming, and of course, this emotionally-stunted clown took it as a joke and assumed I'd show up anyway.
Spoiler: I didn't.
He realized he messed up, actually apologized, and asked me to come the following weekend, and I agreed but what happened then was so hilariously satisfying, because something frustrating went down on his end and I gave him the most delicious taste of his own inconsiderate energy, which, for me, was nothing short of poetic justice.