Ash: The Doomed Efforts of the "Nice Girl"

You know that old saying "nice guys finish last"?
Whoever invented that saying had a mild form of redundancy, because apparently the term goes both ways...
I have not been involved in a serious relationship for more than two years. I was content with this. My last serious relationship, in which the terms "boyfriend" and "girlfriend" were used, ended in utter and complete disaster.
He was a mental and physical abuser, and a drug aficionado. I was a naive girl who didn't have the courage to remove myself when things became very--very bad.
Therefore, I have been discouraged...and dare I say disdainful...about involving myself in a serious, committed relationship at this age. I figure that when I get older, I'll certainly have more security with myself, and may be able to take on such a feat. But life, mon amis, never occurs as planned...

Insert "Damien".
I had met him through a mutual friend, and he pursued me tirelessly for months.
"Damien" was not my ideal vision of a man. I had promised myself a tall, strong-minded intellectual. Damien was neither tall (standing at 5'8), nor strong-minded (he could not make any decisions), and certainly not intellectual (he was confused when I cited Bronte in casual conversation)...yet, he was charming, and very sweet.
I allowed him to take me out.
I allowed him to tell me I was "amazing".
I said yes when he asked me to be his girlfriend, formally, over a dinner of homemade pancakes.

Two weeks into the relationship, he's disoriented and doesn't know what he wants.
I had warned him:
I am not a walk in the park.
I am a determined, steadfast woman with opinions and an iron character. My desire for stimulation in conversation vexed him, and he said he would try, but he never pulled through.
To make matters worse, he broke up with me...while I was at work...OVER FACEBOOK.

What I do not, and perhaps will never understand, is how could I be dumped in such a way, when I treated him so well?
A few examples:
- I surprised him with a coconut snowcone one afternoon, because he had said it was his favorite
- I went to see him play soccer at 7pm after returning from a very tiring weekend in Houston--having not slept for three nights straight, and remained with him at the field until 10pm
- I made him dinner on several occasions
- I took him to a concert in Baton Rouge--AND PAID FOR HIS TICKET.

What did I do wrong?

Why did he become confused?

The night before he broke up with me, we spent the night together talking, and holding one another, and he was smiling from ear to ear...
The next morning, only hours after we had parted...he tells me he believes we're too different...
Too different? Or am I just too sure of myself to be his girlfriend?

Perhaps he'd prefer an immature slut with daddy-issues.


Peace. Love. & CherryBombs.