It's all I really need...

I was Nice-Guy'd earlier this year.

This is something that rarely happens to me.

For one, it's hard to be subtle around me. I'm kinda sex, sex, and more sex. It's a topic that comes up a lot, along with relationships, desires, communication, internal struggles... people talk about this stuff a lot with me. So it's hard to hold back, when you're trying to play the Nice Guy card.

For two, I tend to intimidate people with my sexuality. Odd, but true. So those who run the Nice Guy game tend to be easily frightened off.

However, this one, he would not be deterred.

Backstory:

He contacted me through my other blog about this time last year. I flat-out told him I was not interested in him as a potential partner, but I would like to be friends.

He was a little butt-hurt at my rejection, but he said a platonic friendship would be better than not knowing me at all.

I started going through a rough patch shortly after we started talking and he was one of the people I would call when I felt anxiety building, when I wanted someone to talk to. I continued to hold my platonic-friends stance, and he continued to state he was fine with that.

He lived in northern California at the time, but was moving down here, closer to me (this was already in the works, and not inspired by me). So he came down to visit me and some of his friends in the area. I offered him crash-space for one of the nights, and took him to Knotts Scary Farm since he had always wanted to go.

It was a perfectly fine night. No awkwardness, no odd touches, no silence moments of discomfort. Just a normal, relaxed night.

The next day, I drove him down to his friend's place in Vista. We had planned on hanging out together with his friends all weekend, enjoying the weather (the sight of marines everywhere) and just relaxing.

As soon as we got down there, he changed. Started being flirty, gropy, full of innuendo, blocking me off from male friends, offering to cuddle with me while I slept, constantly in my personal space, constantly making references to sexual activity... it was awful.

Not wanting to offend his friends, not wanting to cause a scene, I just clammed up and kept as far away from him as I could, not making eyecontact in case it would spur him to talk to me.

It continued to build.

Finally, I got to leave. I shot up the 5 freeway so fast, just to get away from him, feeling incredibly violated and dirty, letting the miles rapidly growing between us be a balm, to soothe me.

I wanted nothing to do with him.

A little later, a few weeks, a month, I get a call or an email. I don't remember. An apology for his behavior. That, because of emotional circumstances with some of his friends, he acted as he did.

I was hesitant, but willing to give him another chance.

He wanted to send me a box of random things that we had talked about. So I let him. He ended up packing in more than I expected, more than he should have. I thanked him. He offered me money, to get out of a financial bind I was in, I declined.

He starts emailing me that he keeps thinking about me.

He emails me that he's obsessed with me. That he dreams of me.

That reading about my sexual adventures online, about the guys I go out with, makes him incredibly jealous, and so very hurt.

And that he can't stop thinking of me.

I tell him that it's okay, that he just needs to get over it, that I'm not interested.

I give him space for a few months, hope that he'll meet someone else, that feelings will subside.

I give him a call to check in. We talk, things seem normal.

I call a week or two later. We talk, things seem normal.

Another week, I call, we talk, I mention that I had just met GV8 and how happy I was with him, that I might get into a relationship with him, if things go well.

He freaks.

He starts going off about how I'm making poor decisions, that I'll never be happy if I date this guy, what could I be thinking, why won't I listen to him, what could I be thinking, etc etc.

I told him he was being selfish. I told him that, even if he does not agree with my decision, he should accept that I am the one to make it. That he shouldn't be so upset over my relationship choices.

We lapse into awkward silence. I say good-bye. He says good-bye. I hang up.

I don't call again. I don't attempt contact.

That happened in March, I believe.

Last night, I went out with C and Redwing again. Redwing mentions that a girl he's been sleeping with is a devoted fan of my other blog and, oddly, is friends with the Nice Guy (AKA Redding on my tags).

And that Redding told this girl, who loves my blog so much, that he hates me.

When I heard this, I almost saw red.

I gave this guy chance after chance. Even when he was being awkward and lustful, I admonished him politely, accepted that it was just a part of him, and continued to remain friends with him because I had faith that he was being honest with me when he told me he was getting over me, that he had accepted that we would never be more than friends.

Time and time again, he told me he had accepted this.

And time and time again, his words or actions proved otherwise.

But I continued to place my faith and friendship in him.

And he hates me?

This man, who told me he had no issues, that he had sorted through everything and was at peace with himself and one of the healthiest people he knows, hates me??

I was nice, understanding, respectful, communicative, and accepting. I set boundaries and I asked him to respect them and he repeatedly did not.

So in what part of his brain does he get off on hating me? What trail of logic is set forth that causes him to find me as the villan in this piece? Someone please explain it to me.