It is better to give than to receive

Isn't that how the saying goes?  I am certainly not questioning it.  I do believe it.  There is nothing like making someone happy to warm the soul.  Perhaps it's not the actual act of giving that really creates this feeling, but realizing the appreciation that person has for you.  So where is this commentary coming from?  

Flashback to Friday afternoon.  I actually receive a somewhat endearing email about 3 pm from the guy asking me if I'd care to join him for dinner that evening.  He's somewhat planning ahead, and since I shamelessly ditched him on V-Day, I'm inclined to say yes.  I make it through the boat-rocking afternoon (perhaps the ill-effects of the Benedryl) and head home.  He calls me on his way home, and we discuss plans.  He's very sweet and concerned for my fragile state, but still manages to get me to agree to driving down to his place.  Logistically, it just made sense, and I was itching (no pun intended) to get out of the house.  Despite my cynical outlook for this relationship and my scattered mental state, I had actually managed to pull together a very charming gift for him: a bottle of champagne (his favorite) and some love tokens good for hugs, kisses and other sundry things.  As much as I hate this holiday, I think I did quite well.  I grab the gift, leave the dogs loose (bad idea), and head out.

When I arrive, I let myself in, find him in front of the computer (no surprise), and present him with the gift.  He reads the cute little card I had attached, admires the festive wrapping job, then places the bottle down on the desk.  That's where it stays.  He never discovers the tokens, at least not in my presence.  So, this is where the giving and receiving comment comes in.  He has nothing for me, which to be completely honest, is completely expected.  Every now and then I find myself being optimistic about life, not my natural tendency, but events like this really just squash it like a bug.  So no gift for me, OK, he's been busy this week.  That could be a plausible excuse.  When it comes time to head out for dinner, he asks me to pick a place.  Are you kidding me?  Again, he puts the burden on me.  He hasn't planned a damned thing.  I defer since this is his neighborhood, but eventually we agree on one of my ideas.  Figures.  We head to dinner, then home to watch a movie.

If I think about how I feel when his attention is entirely focused on me, I get that warm fuzzy feeling.  But the problem is, I rarely feel like I've got his undivided attention.  That's how all of these pessimistic sentiments start creeping in.  It doesn't help that my friends, who have a somewhat more objective view of the situation, don't have great things to say about him either.  I can't decide if he's as uncaring, unappreciative, and disinterested as he often seems, or if it's just me reacting to him.  I'm hitting that self-preservation phase, and really, that can't bode well for him, all gift-giving aside.  So when I leave his place, I don't have that warm fuzzy feeling that keeps me smiling the whole way home.  Instead, I feel empty and can only think about what kind of gifts the dogs have waiting for me.