Well, you are not going to be happy. After having a wee glass of rum mixed with strawberry/banana soy smoothie (I tell myself that this mixer makes drinking healthy) I texted RG. Don’t worry – I didn’t declare my undying love for him, and beg him to come back. I said this:
“You know, its 4 the best that we don’t see each other. I realize this. Neither one of us is in a good place. But it kinda sucks that u couldnt just say that because i liked you quite a bit. Oh well. I hope you take good care of yourself.”
What I got back was this:
“If you need some hugs let me know. i just can’t commit to anything now”.
Oh, the euphemistic use of the word “hugs”! When we first started seeing each other, one of the ways he hooked me was by telling me that we didn’t need to have sex (I told him I wasn’t ready. Ha!) and that he could just give me some “hugs” instead. I thought that he must be a really sensitive, sweet guy. I just didn’t realize that it would be my vagina getting all those “hugs”.
You will notice how my text message was sweet and sad. Once again, I put myself out there by telling him that I like/liked him, and yet I got nothing back except a cheap offer for sex . You’re probably now thinking that I must be on the edge of a nervous breakdown. But no! You are very wrong!
I am glad that I texted him because, well, it really was a bit sad to think that I might never hear from him again. I mean, God, we must have fucked like twenty times in the space of a month, and, whether you like it or not, some kind of bond, no matter how tenuous, is formed through that. I was actually kinda surprised that he even texted back and I wouldn’t have minded if he hadn’t because then I could have written him off as a complete douchebag. It’s always easier to get over somebody if you think they’re an idiot or if you’re angry at them.
I countered his desire for me to let him know when I want “hugs” by suggesting that he contact me if he wants to hang out. At first I kicked myself for doing this because I felt like I’d given away all my power by letting him suggest a meeting time, but now I realize that I did exactly the opposite. RG is so afraid of commitment that he doesn’t even want to be the one to suggest meeting up for casual sex. It was very convenient for him to have me be the one who suggested all the booty calls. Ever the Catholic school boy, I think he feels guilty deep-down for having casual sex so, oh how convenient, when the woman is the one who suggests it. That way he can’t be blamed when the woman’s feelings get hurt because she knew what the “score” was.
You probably don’t believe me, but I will not be contacting RG again for a hook-up. I’ve not seen him for 6 days, and, during that time, most of the rush I get from the sex and just being around him, has worn off. Obviously I’ve also had time to reflect. I don’t want a relationship with him, and I never did; I was just lonely and horny. I did like him, though, so in my loneliness and horniness, I got all confused. The boundaries were so blurred. I could just be flattering myself, but I think he might have been confused, too.
But I have decided: if we’re going to be fuck buddies, he’s going to be dancing to my tune this time. He can contact me if he wants to meet up, with advance notice! And he will be coming round to my place. I had never considered how vulnerable I was making myself by always going over to his place, and seeing his brother, his friends…his life. If we are going to fuck, I don’t need to see how he lives his life, and with whom he spends his time. I will have the upper hand if he comes to my house.
The sad thing is that I don’t think that he ever will contact me. I sense that he has made a decision that whatever we had going on was “too complicated” (he said as much). Even if on some level he does like me, he’s an alcoholic and is really good at shutting parts of himself off. I imagine that it will be much easier for him just to find some random girls to fuck instead. Much less “complicated”. It’s also sad because I long for his body, for his smell. It makes no rational sense whatsoever, but I just do. As wrong as he is for me, he did something to me, and, oh how I wish that he would do it again and again and again.
Despite my sadness at the thought of never having his large, perfectly formed cock inside me again, I am at peace for the first time all week. Now I know that this situation had nothing to do with me; it’s all about him and where he is at in his life. I don’t feel rejected anymore. I am ready to move on (although if I’m totally honest I do live in hope that RG will contact me again one day….a hope that will surely diminish with time).
Meanwhile, there are other sexual opportunities on the horizon! Given that I am going to attend a Sex and Love Addicts Anonymous meeting tomorrow morning, it is perhaps not good at all for me to be getting involved with other men. But, you know what, I don’t fucking care. I am so tired of analyzing everything I do and think. I have just rediscovered my libido, and I will be damned if I become a cloistered nun. There have been far too many periods of my life when I didn’t have sex for ages. I’m not doing that again. I’m going to enjoy being a single woman.
Last night I went to my friend’s girlfriend’s dinner party, and there was this guy there whom I will refer to as the Naïve Libertarian. He was this adorable 25-year-old Hispanic guy who was obviously very smart and intellectual (but he’s not quite as smart and as intellectual as he thinks he is). We got into this huge political discussion because I hate libertarians and always want to prove to them that Socialism is the only true way. His opinions were quite ridiculous but also extremely charming as only the opinions of a 25-year-old boy could be. I made fun of him, and I thought it was just delicious when he became all petulant and outraged, and refused to let anyone else speak until he had defended himself. Oh, the ardour of the young!
Anyway, the Naive Libertarian walked me to my car, still passionately spouting all his libertarian opinions. I was growing tired of him , so I grabbed him and said “Oh for God’s sake, shut the fuck up!” and then I kissed him. He resisted for maybe half a minute – “No, but… but let me finish!”, but quickly succumbed to my kiss a few moments later.
I can’t say that I was incredibly attracted to the Naive Libertarian, but I do think that there’s a lot of fun to be had with a 25-year-old boy. I definitely see myself in a sort of Blanche Dubois/Mrs. Robinson role. There is so much that I could teach him! I gave him my number, so let’s see if he calls…