I have always felt that women get the raw end of the deal in dating. There is this immense pressure to behave the right way in order not to scare off the object of our affection. You don't want to seem too keen, because you might scare them off, but too distant and they think you are not interested. You seem to need to create the impression that you are interested but you don't need them, you fancy them but you could get someone else if you needed to. Possibly the hardest balance to strike! As a result we are thrown into the world of rules, forced to keep track of things like whether or not he was the last person to text/e mail and whether you should call him or wait for him to call you? You met him on Friday so you have to wait till at least Sunday before you text him, unless of course he text's you in which case you wait an hour to reply and fabricate some reason for the delay. "Sorry It took me so Long to reply, I was busy being fabulous" or something to that nature. In reality if I like the bloke I have a tendency to watch my phone with beady eyes until it vibrates then do a little happy dance when it goes off.
So you can imagine my trepidation upon landing myself in this situation. Everyone has that guy, from their past, that guy who even though your lives have changed dramatically, still makes you go weak at the knees. For me it's Bad Timing Guy, even though there was an attraction growing up, it was always the wrong time, he had a girlfriend of I had a boyfriend, or something else. So, fast forward 3 years or so and we are all grown up now, and I get a friend request on Facebook (wonderful invention). Bit of chatting, bit of flirting and before I know it he’s at my door! One thing lead to another, after all reminiscing can be a huge aphrodisiac, all those memories and old feelings. I find it’s very easy to convince yourself you still feel something you felt before when confronted with the historic vassal of previous affections. But that wasn’t what this was about; BTG was still as hot as ever!
So here I am, having just wrinkled the sheets with BTG and unsure of what was going to happen next. Then he invite me to see his flat, and we all know what that means, so I go and the inevitable happens, c’est la vie, right? Then there is confusion, he thought. I would stay over, I didn’t want to assume so hadn’t brought anything, so I went home. So to cut a long story short we ended up, accidentally, chatting and fornicating, then I would go on my pretty little way. How did that happen? I mean in this day and age a girl can have sex without being branded a strumpet, but surely when you enlist to being a fuck buddy someone has to ask you first. It’s probably my own fault, I should have asked him what was going on, but I guess I didn’t want to be That Girl. You know, the needy girl, the ‘where is this going’ girl. The girl who want the label, so she can go trotting around town saying this is my boyfriend. It’s one of those rules that we women have to follow, don’t ask where things are going. You never ask a man to clarify what you mean to him for fear of him running for the hills.
Queue the soul searching, it’s fun. The sex is hot, he’s hot, and do I really need to know where this is going? Relax! I told myself, live life for now; don’t worry about where this is going, just enjoy what you have got. And what I got is a Lover, we chat about life, we have sex, we share music and our passions but all within his four walls. So I decided that it was enough for me, I could deal with that, maybe it would end up being, more, maybe not, but I was ok with not knowing.
Why should women need to put a label on everything, didn’t Samantha teach us anything? We can have men, we can have cake, and we can eat both! Viva le revalución!
One day he just stopped calling, oh well, never mind. The irony is I will never know why, because I never asked the question is the first place!