Regardless of how amicable the split may be, relationships ending are tough. The toughest part is usually less about the ex, and more about suddenly being alone. It may not necessarily be her that you are missing, so much as just a human being in her old spot. Attached to your hand, laughing at your jokes, or yelling at you for talking over The Batchelor.

Single for less than a week, I got pinged by a 40 year old Brazilian girl, with broken English. We moved to text and chatted for a while, before I, probably too eagerly, suggested that we meet. While still chatting, she ended one conversation with "Good night, my love". I guess that should have been a flag. I did little bit of research on Brazilian women, and it seems that terms like "Love", are not what we Americans think when we hear them. It is more the equivalent of "You're okay so far."

We meet, she is cute, very petite, missing the infamous Brazilian ass, but I'll survive. She can't speak a word of English, and had apparently been using a translation app to chat with me. Second flag? What the hell, she is nice, and filling a void in my life. She lives in Town and Country and has no car. Turns out she lives in an apartment with a girlfriend from Brazil. Thank you Uber!

We quickly get into a pattern, weekends we are going out, and many weeknights she is Ubering over. We mastered the translation app for live conversations. It did not take long for people in restaurants to realize how we were speaking to each other. I did not mind, it was kind of a novelty... our "thing". This would later get old, but for now it was kind of fun.

There was no watching TV, because she could not understand the dialogue. So our relationship was pretty much just non-stop sex... which seems to be a universal language. I could tell she was falling for me, maybe too hard and too fast. This made me nervous, but I let it go, since the alternative was sitting home alone. Yes, in hindsight, I am aware that this was a totally selfish, dick move. I realized she was not the one for me, because the entire month we were seeing each other, I remained on the dating sites, chatting with others.

Eventually non-stop sex gets boring. I know, hard to believe a man saying that, but it seems that it's true. Blew my mind also. Suddenly, I am feeling really shitty about myself. I allowed this girl to continue to fall, knowing she was not going to be my "person". I went through my "What if" thought process again, and still saw nothing.

I had planned to let her down easy on a Friday. I had another date lined up for Friday. I know, I know. It gets worse. My date cancelled. I swear I was going to text the Brazilian to say, "Hey, this is not working out, etc.", instead I texted "Uber?" This had become our code word for me dispatching an Uber to bring her to me. I was, you will be glad to hear, wracked with guilt when she arrived. I was not reaching for the phone to translate as often as I had before. She knew something was up. Her instinct was to have sex, to pull me back from wherever my mind seemed to be going. We did... my mind did not change. Yes, I feel bad about that too.

Her response to my text the next day. saying something like " Hey, It ain't working for me" was the equivalent of my drowning her baby in a bathtub. It was bad. She begged me to bring her here so we could talk about it. I'm a guy, we prefer having our fingernails pulled out, to "Talking" about shit like this. But she was unrelenting, and I caved, and sent an Uber. Maybe part of me was feeling like I deserved this "Talk".

I am downstairs as the Uber arrives, she gets out and it is obvious she has been crying. As men, we know we make women cry, but we really don't like to see it. Maybe because we have no idea how to make it stop. We go up to the apartment, and pull out the translator app. She goes on about how awesome we are together, etc., really making a full sales pitch. I toughen up and said "Sorry, no." I was expecting an avalanche of tears, but instead she said "Can we at least be friends?" My final dick move is coming now. "What kind of friends?" That's it, I'm a bonafide scumbag.

She reaches her hand up the leg of my shorts and grabs my dick. Part of me is thinking, she is still trying to make this work, but as my dick hardens, I decide that we are on the record as just being friends now, obviously she is okay with that! After the blowjob, I offer to drive my new "friend" home, as I often did. Uber can get sketchy later at night.

It's quiet in the car. I have my phone in the handhold on my car door, out of reach. I hear her start sniffling, and she grabs my hand and squeezes it real tight. She knows it's over. I'm driving as fast as I can, wishing now I had called her an Uber for this ride. I park in front of her apartment. As I always did, I came around to open her door, and she threw herself at me. Crying and holding on for dear life. I let her get some of it out, and finally pried her loose. She stood on the sidewalk, sobbing. I could see her in my rear-view mirror, until I turned the corner. That was tough.

My first thought, as I pulled out of her complex on Sheldon Road, for my 25 minute drive back, was relief. Thankful "that" was over. I drove on, thinking about what I had done to this woman. She did not deserve that. I was a truly shitty person, who probably deserved to be alone. Even though she was obviously my rebound girl, I still vowed to myself on that drive home, that I would never do that to another person again.