Mr. (Over)Sensitive

          The last guy I dated seriously was really sensitive.  Normally this would be an admirable quality in a partner, but by "really sensitive" I mean that he usually wanted to hold hands, talk about his feelings, and cry.  Admittedly, I am a bit more hard-nosed than the average woman.  Some would even go so far as to call me insensitive which I think is a bit of an exaggeration, but his constant emoting did put quite a strain on the relationship.

            When describing their ideal man, women often list compassionate and sensitive as desired traits.  This makes perfect sense.  Life can hand out some pretty nasty blows and you want a partner that will be there for support, when needed.  Whether it's a bad haircut, a rotten day at work, or something more serious it's easier to deal when there is someone to be the proverbial shoulder to cry on.  In a good relationship, there should be freedom to openly share one's feelings without worry of judgment or ridicule.  While I want my significant other to feel comfortable expressing his emotions, when does it become too much? 
          Sure, I want a man that is sensitive to my feelings and secure enough in himself and our relationship to express his, but I also want him to be, well, a man.  I realize that traditional gender roles have changed and it is now socially acceptable for men to be more soft and gentle, but within reason.  I don't want him getting manicures and crying during The Notebook.  That's my job.  I don't want him to watch silly Lifetime movies with me in which someone's baby is stolen (Sidebar: Someone's baby is always being stolen in Lifetime movies.  That, or some woman is sleeping with their best friend's jailbait son).  That's what my girlfriends are for.

            As I stated earlier, I tend to fall slightly on the less sensitive side of the emotional spectrum.  I'm not insensitive, but I'm not really into emoting all over the place either.  My ex, we'll call him Mr. Sensitive (I figure that's nicer than Mr. Girly-pants), wanted to talk about feelings ad nauseum.  Somehow his heart-to-hearts always seemed to be initiated during the worst possible times, like during Jersey Shore or Sunday football.  When the Philadelphia Eagles are playing the New York Giants in Philly for the Sunday night game, do not ask me how I'm feeling.  My response: "I feel like you need to order me another beer and be quiet until halftime."  He proceeded to pout the remainder of the evening, but at least he kept (mostly) quiet.

            Please do not get me wrong, no one, male or female, should be ashamed of their feelings.  You cannot help how you feel.  You can, however, help the way in which you express said feelings.  Perfect example: Mr. Sensitive and I were having an intimate moment one night.  Things were just starting to get hot and heavy when he suddenly began to cry.  He literally stuck his penis in me and started crying.  You may be thinking, "Aww, that's so beautiful."  Which it may have been if it were one solitary "I'm so moved by this moment" tear.  No!  This was full-on hysterical sobbing.  Like "someone just died" sobbing.  Now, there are only two courses of action in a situation like this:

            (1)  Console him

            (2) Freak the fuck out, get dressed, and leave.

            You can guess what I did.  Hint: it wasn't #1.

            In the days that followed, I asked several of my guy friends what to make of this occurrence.  The general consensus was that it was very weird.  When I addressed the subject with Mr. Sensitive, he explained that he had been feeling unattractive that day which was why he cried.  In all fairness, Mr. Sensitive had a health issue at the time that caused him to lose some weight, but aside from a few lost pounds he looked exactly the same as he always had.  The incident made realize that our ways of dealing with our respective emotions were far too different for us to have a successful relationship.  Sure, I could have made an effort to be more open and he could have tried not to constantly speak to me in baby-talk ("I wuv you" is only acceptable when you're speaking to a pet), but ultimately we were just not right for each other.

            The relationship fizzled shortly after that night.  It actually ended pretty badly and we no longer speak.  I do regret that we were not able to maintain a friendship afterward because despite our differences, I did care very much for him.  Wherever he is I hope he is happy and doing well, but most of all I hope he's learned not to be such a whiny, little bitch.