"The cats shit on your bed – what did I do that was so wrong?"

I think now that I probably wasn't thinking clearly when I posted all that stuff yesterday. I know I said I was thinking clearly, and yesterday, I thought I was thinking clearly. But now I'm not clear on that.

I dated a woman for a while who seemed to genuinely care about me. She was smart, cute, fun to be with, in 'way better shape than me even though she was a few years older, and we seemed to have a lot in common.

Then a few things went wrong. I won't go into all of them.

But one night we went to a party for a friend of hers. I had met the guy, but I barely knew him. Seemed like an okay guy. But at this party, a lot of his other friends were there, and they were wheeler-dealers. Big stuff in the pipeline. Leveraging financing packages out of Dallas. Closing that deal on the west side corridor sometime in the third quarter.

They were wearing slacks or ironed jeans. Soft flowing silk shirts. Italian loafers with paper-thin soles. Lots of Macanudos being passed around.

I was dressed like me. I think I had on socks that night. When we got there, I realized everyone else was pretty dressy, so I grabbed a cotton blazer off the floor of the minivan, shook the wrinkles out as best I could and put it on. I brushed off all the cat hair I could see by the street light.

Later, after the party, she told me she was a little disconcerted by my appearance. The cat hair had already been an issue, and my party attire just made it worse.

Well, hell, even I was disconcerted by my appearance – it was like, "which one of these does not belong with the others?" But I couldn't admit it to her or even myself at the time.

So I got pissed off. Pissed off at myself, pissed off at her and just pissed off.

And I broke up with her.

By email.

"If you want someone who dresses like your friends," I wrote, "you should date someone who already does, instead of trying to remodel me to match them." I don't remember what else I wrote, but I told her good-bye.

She seemed genuinely shocked and hurt.

"The cats shit on your bed and you forgive that," she replied. "What did I do that was so wrong?"

That was such a great response that I had to give it another chance. But I couldn't see it through. We broke up but remained friends for a long time afterward.

I don't know. Maybe I did the right thing and maybe I didn't. Was I thinking clearly when I broke up with her? Am I thinking clearly now?