Leaving the Door Open
Warning: this blog post contains adult language and material. Consider it NSFW.
I've said this, I've heard this from friends, I've read this in articles and on websites: men are rather simple. So it shouldn't take a degree in neuropsychology to figure them out when it comes to dating. It apparently takes the neuropsychology degree to figure me out and why I've been so freaking dense.
I've finally come enough to my senses to realize it's time to move on. It's time to quit longing after P, wishing for him to text, wanting another date. The signs have been there, but ever optimistic me chose to give more weight to the positive signs than the negative ones. Because, if we're going to be honest -- and it's definitely time to be completely honest -- after the first date his mind and clear goal was pretty much on one thing: sex.
Yes, there have been plenty of positive signs and perhaps I'm shifting too far into the "fuck you and the horse you rode in on" mentality. But the past week it's been pretty clear to me that he's too busy or whatever to really give a shit about me. Yes, he responded to the text I sent him. In hindsight, big whoop-di-doo. Today I got a text from him. I took an hour to reply. And that was the extent of the conversation.
There have been lots of little things, little clues. It is one thing to appreciate beauty in other people around us, it is something else to send me a text that says "both of you were looking really hot last night" when you were supposed to be on a date with me. It is one thing to get involved in sexting -- hey, we're consenting adults and I admit it is rather fun -- but it's something else when it is all what can I do for him, and never what he wants to do for/to me. When I would text him saying I'd had a crazy day, his first response usually asked me if my day involved lots of ass grabbing. These are just three examples. If I were to really put my mind to it, I could probably come up with a few more.
So when it comes to an actual relationship, for now I'm moving on. The writing is on the wall. He's obviously not interested, or not interested enough to find 30 seconds to text me in a day or to actually find time for another date. Time to get active on Match again, reviewing my matches and tweaking my profile.
But I haven't shut the door completely when it comes to P.
Previously I've blogged about how I've been there, done that with the casual sex thing and didn't want to do that again. Moods change. Perspectives change. And whether or not P is relationship material, I can't deny the response my body has to him. Good old fashioned lust, ladies and gentlemen. Propagation of the species. Survival of the fittest. Pheromones doing what they do best.
Or perhaps I just want a revenge fuck. A "this is what you are giving up" fuck. Call it what you want, my inner whore is coming out. I've been off the market for a very long time. Right now my self esteem is (mostly) at a record high. I'm not going to be trolling certain sites looking for a one-night stand, but I would be quite willing to spend a night or two with P, relationship or not. I am still very good friends with the last "fuck buddy" I had. Yes, there were some complications when we decided to remove the "benefits" from our "friends with benefits" and just be friends, but I'm not entirely sure P and I will ever be just friends, and we certainly didn't start as friends who later fell into bed. We started as people looking for a date.
So tonight, feeling extra confident and wearing particularly kick-ass undergarments, I took a rather racy picture and texted it to him. The caption: "Consider this your standing invitation: you get lonely, you call/text me." For the time being, this will be the last text I instigate. No matter my desire to text him about something zany that happened, I will not do it unless things change significantly. That was about a half hour ago, and I haven't yet gotten a response. Frankly, I'm not surprised; he's usually asleep by this time. However since two previous pictures I've sent him (one R rated, the other 100% safe for Facebook) both resulted in him rising to the occasion and, as he said, "making quite a mess," I'm pretty sure this pic will have a similar reaction.
If not, no skin off my back. I've made the offer. It's his to accept or decline, and it certainly wouldn't be the first time I've been rejected. And if he does take me up on the offer... well... it doesn't take a degree in neuropsychology to figure out this one.
I've said this, I've heard this from friends, I've read this in articles and on websites: men are rather simple. So it shouldn't take a degree in neuropsychology to figure them out when it comes to dating. It apparently takes the neuropsychology degree to figure me out and why I've been so freaking dense.
I've finally come enough to my senses to realize it's time to move on. It's time to quit longing after P, wishing for him to text, wanting another date. The signs have been there, but ever optimistic me chose to give more weight to the positive signs than the negative ones. Because, if we're going to be honest -- and it's definitely time to be completely honest -- after the first date his mind and clear goal was pretty much on one thing: sex.
Yes, there have been plenty of positive signs and perhaps I'm shifting too far into the "fuck you and the horse you rode in on" mentality. But the past week it's been pretty clear to me that he's too busy or whatever to really give a shit about me. Yes, he responded to the text I sent him. In hindsight, big whoop-di-doo. Today I got a text from him. I took an hour to reply. And that was the extent of the conversation.
There have been lots of little things, little clues. It is one thing to appreciate beauty in other people around us, it is something else to send me a text that says "both of you were looking really hot last night" when you were supposed to be on a date with me. It is one thing to get involved in sexting -- hey, we're consenting adults and I admit it is rather fun -- but it's something else when it is all what can I do for him, and never what he wants to do for/to me. When I would text him saying I'd had a crazy day, his first response usually asked me if my day involved lots of ass grabbing. These are just three examples. If I were to really put my mind to it, I could probably come up with a few more.
So when it comes to an actual relationship, for now I'm moving on. The writing is on the wall. He's obviously not interested, or not interested enough to find 30 seconds to text me in a day or to actually find time for another date. Time to get active on Match again, reviewing my matches and tweaking my profile.
But I haven't shut the door completely when it comes to P.
Previously I've blogged about how I've been there, done that with the casual sex thing and didn't want to do that again. Moods change. Perspectives change. And whether or not P is relationship material, I can't deny the response my body has to him. Good old fashioned lust, ladies and gentlemen. Propagation of the species. Survival of the fittest. Pheromones doing what they do best.
Or perhaps I just want a revenge fuck. A "this is what you are giving up" fuck. Call it what you want, my inner whore is coming out. I've been off the market for a very long time. Right now my self esteem is (mostly) at a record high. I'm not going to be trolling certain sites looking for a one-night stand, but I would be quite willing to spend a night or two with P, relationship or not. I am still very good friends with the last "fuck buddy" I had. Yes, there were some complications when we decided to remove the "benefits" from our "friends with benefits" and just be friends, but I'm not entirely sure P and I will ever be just friends, and we certainly didn't start as friends who later fell into bed. We started as people looking for a date.
So tonight, feeling extra confident and wearing particularly kick-ass undergarments, I took a rather racy picture and texted it to him. The caption: "Consider this your standing invitation: you get lonely, you call/text me." For the time being, this will be the last text I instigate. No matter my desire to text him about something zany that happened, I will not do it unless things change significantly. That was about a half hour ago, and I haven't yet gotten a response. Frankly, I'm not surprised; he's usually asleep by this time. However since two previous pictures I've sent him (one R rated, the other 100% safe for Facebook) both resulted in him rising to the occasion and, as he said, "making quite a mess," I'm pretty sure this pic will have a similar reaction.
If not, no skin off my back. I've made the offer. It's his to accept or decline, and it certainly wouldn't be the first time I've been rejected. And if he does take me up on the offer... well... it doesn't take a degree in neuropsychology to figure out this one.
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