I Deserve An Award Or Something.
Literally lost BOTH men I was chatting with/seeing within two days.
Self-admittedly, I kind of lost my shit at the prospect that Georgia, who at 6’3” with a body that just did not STOP and a sex-drive that may have even eclipsed my own was my perfect man, may actually be some out-of-shape 54 year old creeper still living with his mom somewhere finding photos of an obscenely hot dude on Facebook and 4chan, and metaphorically jumped all down his throat about the fact that he doesn’t have a Facebook page or functioning webcam— you know, the indicators that someone actually EXISTS when they’re the entire Eastern seaboard away from you— and told him he either had to send me other internet links (sports stats, LinkedIn, whatever,) proving he actually existed, or text me a photo of himself with a clock. In my Sherlock Holmesian dating mind, that was a really clever idea; you can fake photos of “yourself” with your dog and sexy-times photos and whatnot, but if the time on that clock don’t match up with current reality, BYE. Apparently, however, if Georgia was real and not an impersonator, that idea was just too much for him. And if he was an impersonator, he got that I was onto his game. However, this option is just too sad to fathom, see re: 6’3” football player with good credit and a 9-inch…HELLO.
I will, however, always have those memories. And photos. Thank you, baby Jesus.
As for JFK, not a peep since the last Morning After. (Actually, that’s a lie— he was on my OkC profile a few nights ago. Again, the more you read, the more you will not understand this anomaly either.) I’d texted him twice, once casually to end a bet between Caiti and I about who has preppier friends (salmon colored flat-front shorts were the deciding factor), the other time to invite him out for a few drinks, and have heard nothing but silence back. What bothers me most about this are two things:
A.) He has otherwise impeccable manners, so this show of ignorez-vousing is really out-of-character; totally had him pegged as an “I’m sorry, not tonight, I’m sick/busy/not home/not up for it/being abducted by aliens,” kind of guy instead of a “maybe you’ll just think I spontaneously lost my cell phone” kind of guy, which is always a bitch when people DON’T follow through with your niceties expectations of them, and,
B.) Ok, if a dude woke me up in the morning with head, I am 135% sure I would NEVER LET HIM GO. Maybe I just have a very high libido. (Guilty.) Maybe I just really love receiving/giving head. (Again, guilty.) But if someone I was seeing was handing out head like candy canes around Christmas time, I wouldn’t be going ANYWHERE. I would be spontaneously proposing. I mean, c’mon, I’m just about to turn 23. Having a guy go down on me is the shit. It’s what I live for right now. So I don’t understand it when men my age just let that…go.
(To those of your who are being all 1950s and fuddy-duddy and judgmental and thinking things like, “Well, if you really liked JFK, why were you texting/sexting with Georgia in the first place; did you think about what would happen if either ever found out; maybe you got what you deserved,” and shit like that, let me explain something to you: I am FULLY aware I am a needy motherfucker. I demand lots of time, attention, and entertainment, and sometimes— like especially when you’ve just started dating and getting to know someone— that can be really overwhelming. I get this. I know this about myself. And so, since there’s no exclusivity clauses, and especially since Georgia wasn’t supposed to move up here until the fall and knew I was seeing someone else, I don’t see anything wrong with spreading it around a little bit, especially so I’m not distracting JFK from his Very Important Job between the hours of 9 and 5 with things like “Hey, what do you think about football uniforms versus baseball uniforms?” or “I just had some amazing sushi for lunch; do you like sushi?” and all the other inane bullshit that I want to get a guy’s opinion on at odd hours of the day. Theoretically, I was doing all of us a favor.)
And I was having such a nice time with him; someone my age in this hell-hole who’s into their (gainfully employed; degree-wielding) job and intelligent and athletic and funny (and being easy on the eyes does not hurt anything). But no. Apparently, I cannot have nice things. Or men. Any sort of relationship with men.
Where is the nearest convent. Get me to it.
Leave Note / Reblog
Life Dating Makes Me Want To Die JFK Georgia Men vs. Women Single Girls I Hate Myself In This Moment Miss Manners Oral Sex Sexting Online Dating OkStupid Get Me To A Nunnery The Morning After