Therapist: “So, if you’ve been able to decide you don’t care what your family thinks about your life, why can’t you apply that thought process to your romantic relationships, rather than reading War and Peace-complex subtext into every interaction?”
Me: “Ummm… because my family are Birthers, and the people I date are not, so it’s not that simple? Divide my bill into minutes — I want a refund for that question.”
On Thursday, the guy I’d been dating texted to ask if I had time to hang out this weekend. I said I did, but we didn’t make actual plans, and I haven’t heard from him yet.
So I think he was right in saying “we want different things.” I want to be ACTUAL friends with benefits, not the “beck and call girl” of a dude who forgets about me until his dick gets bored.
At least this means we don’t have to get together to discuss the terms of our fuck-buddy-ship — we’re Facebook friends and that’s it. No travel, no feelings, no shaving!
I’m not actually too hurt by this. It’s nice to be sure of something I’d mostly already decided.
I should’ve moved faster with the two OkCupid guys I’ve been messaging with, so when Dude I’d Been Dating got back from vacation and texted to see if I can hang out this weekend, my response could’ve been, “Oh! You’re still here? Sorry, no, I have two dates this weekend.”
Kidding. Mostly. It’ll be good to have that talk. Fine. FINE!
I also think we should have sex one more time BEFORE we talk, because I have a vivid masturbation fantasy that takes place on his couch and I’d like to see how that pans out in reality, but we’ll see what happens.
Update on Dude I’d Been Dating: He texted me Sunday to give me back his phone number, and has texted here and there since with everyday minutia, stuff so mundane I feel like he’s just worried I’ll be mad if he doesn’t say SOMETHING.
He re-added me on Facebook (he’s on my “family” filter now, though, so all he sees are sunset photos and dog videos), but not on Instagram, and we were never connected on Twitter.
So I guess we’re friends, with nudity TBD, but I think I’m OK with friends, at least for now. I’m glad we’re talking because that means he didn’t just fuck me and bail. But now I know he can and will just shut down on me, and maybe he’s only talking to me because sex is possible, so I need to get those thoughts in order.
We don’t have plans to see each other, and I’m damn sure not bringing it up, so it won’t be a real issue until he does. (He’s away on a family trip right now.)
In the meantime, I have TWO OkCupid Potentials to write back, so “I’m not waitin’, because I’m no waiter, so when I blow up, don’t try to kick it to me later.”
(^ I…I am so sorry, you guys…)
I’ve had some thoughts loitering in the back of my brain about my current relationship-like experience, and its similarities to a past experience that was much worse, brain-wise.
So obviously, as further evidence of my iPhone’s forthcoming sentience, I went on Instagram and it was like, “Hey! You might know Past Experience!”
Fuck you, Instagram.
That’s OK, though — again, the beauty of getting over the much worse past experience is knowing that THIS experience, comparatively, ain’t shit.
Because I have no impulse control, I sent a Facebook message that he saw an hour ago and didn’t answer, so… I guess that’s my answer. (Ahem…I may have also sent a follow-up. Also seen and unanswered.)
So I’m not being used for sex, but I DO trust people too easily and I AM a shit judge of character. Couldn’t even assemble the balls to be like, “Yeah, we’re done”?
(For the record, I was right — hurts a little, but I know it’ll pass.)