I wasn't sure I would write this, because at some point, he did have the address to this blog; however, I'm pretty sure he never read it. It's probably beneath him. That and this blog's entire purpose is to tell the weirder tales from my dating life, and this is in the top ten now. So I'ma tell it! If he reads it, well... Hey, dude, you shouldn't have been such an ass. Maybe going forward I should ask guys I date and/or sleep with to sign waivers?
Before it hit the end, we already knew: he's too serious, I'm too goofy, we figured it wouldn't work. He demanded I lower my walls, I conceded. I cried in front of him, opened up, told him things. Me crying in front of someone is kiiiind of a big deal, so that was actually an important step for me. We continued to see each other once or twice a week, screw our brains out, talk, laugh, get drunk and stoned, text each other. Things were all right.
I knew it wasn't a Relationship, although I also knew we were exclusive sexually, for health reasons (we'd talked about this), and I didn't care about anything else. I knew he wasn't someone I wanted long-term, nor was I someone he wanted long-term. But I figured, we were fucking, so we must at least be friends. And friends go to each others' homes, meet each others' friends. And yet, we only hung out at my place.
Enter the naked bike ride. I met someone there, later that night got very drunk with him, and we made out. That's it, nothing else, but we Made The Fuck Out. It requires capital letters. It was a long, drawn-out, and quite public session of face-sucking. And it was fun. I haven't seen him since, and I'm not crying about it. But it reminded me of what it was like to just let go and have some fucking FUN with someone I found attractive.
My next date with Desk was a few days after that. I got him to agree to go out to dinner for once, but still... everything felt a bit forced. I wanted to laugh and joke; he wanted to have Discussions as usual. Somehow at the end of dinner, he went off on some rant about people just not thinking about things, and how can they not think about things. This went all the way back to my place. By then, we were on the topic of the environment and HOW can people NOT THINK about this? (says the guy driving a piece of shit car that's falling apart and probably putting out more pollutants every time he drives it than my car does in an entire week)
Still, we go in, watch a movie, bonk - but the sex is different this time, as I'm just not into it and he can tell. He gets ready to leave. I say something about seeing his home. I'm thinking, we keep hanging out and fucking, so why don't we ever do it at his place? He kind of... freaks out. It's weird. He gets super twitchy, says I still have "too many walls," and for him "it takes time" and he "has to be comfortable" and all this other rot. He tells me if I don't deal with my "walls" that I'm going to "go back to sitting alone in [my] apartment." What. Then he spouts, "I thought my intentions were clear when we started." "Oh," I replied, thoroughly done with the entire conversation and just wanting him to leave. "You're right." I hugged him, said goodbye, and closed the door. I'd decided right then and there that the feeling I'd had earlier that evening that we were through was, in fact, what was to be. It was over.
1. SO VERY
2. Didn't wear deodorant ("it causes cancer" - right, because those cigarettes you smoke don't)
3. So, I have to drop all my walls immediately, even though we've only known each other a month, but YOU need TIME to "be comfortable" before you can introduce me to your home or your friends? Double standard much?
The next day, I got a text from him apologizing for "acting passive-aggressive" the night before, and that he was writing out his feelings in more detail and would send it to me when he was done. I read the text, shrugged, and put down my phone. I honestly didn't care what he had to say. I considered replying saying something along those lines, but couldn't even muster up enough interest to do that. When a couple of days went by with no email, I hoped he'd just dropped the idea and we could go our separate ways without further Discussion.
Ohhhh no. That was not to be.
TO BE CONTINUED....
(note: a friend suggested I do one day a week dedicated to the really good Jerk Stories. So Mondays now will be Douchebag Day, until I run out of those stories. The rest of the week, I'll just post whatever comes to mind. So, yes, you have to wait until next Monday to get Desk: The Email, Pt 1.)