Me: I just don’t understand why guys have to LIE. Why say “We really connected, I need to see you this weekend” if you don’t actually MEAN it? I would be fine with a one nighter if they would call it for what it is, but when they get your hopes up and get your brain reeling that this is going to turn something more, it’s just a huge let down. Why did he say he wanted to see me again, and then make no effort to?
EAS: He lost the erection he had when being around you.
That is the single cleanest, most honest answer I have ever heard to the question that has plagued women for ages. I prefer the guy who comes home with you, fools around for a night and says “Hey that was fun, see ya!” He was HONEST. Sure he’s a little scummy and probably has herpes, but he’s not lying to you and he’s not lying to himself. And in a world where “How are you?” has become a rhetorical question, it’s nice to be clear to other people’s intentions.
It’d be nice to pretend that I had suddenly realized the error of my cheatin’, playgirl ways. But that isn’t the case. I was embittered by a young hipster with beautiful puppy eyes. See, as a self proclaimed party girl and notorious bar hopper, I am no stranger to the one night make out. I don’t have one night stands (though if you do, I ain’t judging), but I do subject myself to sloppy make outs that taste like Pabst Blue Ribbon and cigarettes. So at a Frat party one night, I find myself talking to the most wonderfully lanky, scruffy indie boy I have ever met, and there is nothing I love more than a good indie boy at a frat party. You get the feeling of getting the rarest thing in the room.
At any rate, we spend the night talking. And I MEAN talking, we stay up until 4 in the morning just chatting our little lives away. And he goes on and on about how our auras connected and we were twin souls and how we was just drawn to me the moment he saw me. Jesus, I am reading that now, and I feel like a moron. How were my red lights not going off? How was cynical me sitting there eating it all up? Well he had not tried to touch my no no spot once, he didn’t even try to kiss me. We were just sitting there completely connecting. And finally, after 5 hours of just talking, he kissed my mouth and it was slow and soft and full of feeling. I mean it, there was no slimy tongue darting in and out of my mouth, no fumbling hands cupping my mosquito bites. I felt something warm and fuzzy inside when we kissed, and he pulled back and said, “Your smile is glowing.” Isn’t that just fucking beautiful?
I’m not going to lie. I thought this was it, I thought, oh my god I’ve met someone I can stand. Before he left he CLEARLY said, without provocation, “I would love to see you this weekend again.” I smiled that supposedly glowing smile and told him sure. But Friday came, and no call. Saturday came, and no call. Sunday comes around and finally I get a text: Hey I’m having people over tonight, your welcome to stop by if you want. And right now my red lights are finally flashing because that was so incredibly half assed it hurts, and because he has poor grammar.
No call. A text. Text messaging is the single worst thing to happen to human communication, my God, it is lazy. But we all do it, especially when it comes to dating, because it is the easy way out. Now I have some pride, so I politely rejected his half assed invitation, even though I would’ve loved to stare in those puppy eyes again. I genuinely liked the guy though, so I wasn’t about to completely cut him off. The next day I sent a text (yes I’m an asshole too): I just got out of class, would you like to meet up today?
And do you know what my small step for womankind was met with? No. Fucking. Response. And I sat there embarrassed and sad, wondering if I had done something wrong. Maybe I shouldn’t have texted. Maybe I should’ve hung out with him on Sunday night. Maybe I shouldn’t have sounded so friendly. Maybe I should’ve sounded friendlier. Maybe I should’ve been Angelina Jolie. That little light of hope I felt burning in my cynical soul was quickly extinguished. I will admit it, it stung like a bitch. I was moody to everyone who called that day that wasn’t Hipster, because they had so callously tricked me into running to the phone only to be disappointed. I yelled at my roommate for nothing. I even cried a little (not really, I can't cry). I can’t stop blaming myself, although realistically the whole situation can be explained by EAS's wisdom.
When he was around me, in the heat of the moment, he would have said or done anything. Nothing is at stake to most of these men, and they will try and trick you into thinking that they are wonderful people. They want to put their penis inside you. Even if they are not mounting you, everything they say and do is so they can put their penis inside of you. Even if seems like they are not trying, and just want to get to know you as a person, all they are really thinking about is putting their penis inside of you. I know that sounds scary and cruel that the norm is for guys to be complete liars, but hey let’s not man bash. We all do it. We all act saccharine to people we want something out of. And hey maybe when he was around me, part of him really did believe I was this beautiful little angel whose soul intertwined with is.
Well yes, maybe it sucked to have the little bit of optimism left in me viciously sucked out by the lousy bastard vampire. I learned an important lesson, though. No, really, not the way people say they learn a lesson when they’re blindly groping for something positive. I really learned something. Any guy, any PERSON, who is instantly cooing and adoring you is lying. A lover to everyone is a lover to no one. If he gives over his emotions so quickly, he is either faking, or so sociopathic you’d better run and fast. If after one night he can tell you he thinks your souls are connected, then he’s said that to people before. I promise you’re not the first. In fact, if you ever hear that exact line, it’s probably the same guy I ran into. He has a banana tattoo on his wrist, check for it.
Never learning her lesson,
Ivy
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