Get by with a little help from my men's
The first time a new romantic interest hurts your feelings is a monumental moment. It is basically the indicator of where you've been and where you're going to go. We hold down our little annoyances for the first month or so because they seem like small potatoes, but eventually those spuds become spats. The first time you're really angry at someone you just relase all of the things that you've been holding back and somehow they all seem relevant. Leaving a door unlocked becomes, I'm sick of the way you pile dirty clothes in the bathroom and put too many things in your pocket and never say goodbye on the phone and why can you for once put a napkin in your lap when we eat out. And we compile these minor complaints into a single category witm more oomph and suddenly those small potatoes becomes, 'You don't have any respect of anything you own."
Then, we play detective and look for evidence. You spilled coffee on my Marc Jacobs cardigan therefore you don't appreciate me as a lover. You didn't finish your spaghetti last night therefore you must be having an affair with the man across the hall. In a hostile dating climate every wave of heat is always followed by a downpour. No relationship can be complete without the passion and the punches.
And after the downpour there's the time in limbo where neither party wants to let it go.
This weekend was the weekend of weird ex texts. I got several messages from the lumberjack trying to get me to go see Hancock. I didn't know a polite way to say, "I know the only reason you're asking me is because your boyfriend won't go with you and I'm not going to be your man on the side thankyouverymuch." This is after he cheated on his boyfriend once with me and then told me he still had a "crush" on me as well and I told him I will never be interested in being friends with him.
Then the German texted me telling me he's depressed which means horny in gay text message language. I told him it's a shame that he thought I was too young for him, and didn't want to have sex when he had the chance, and basically led me on for months like an old spinster.
Then I get a text from the guy I fooled around with in the changing room who told me that he was in a relationship with someone in michigan.
It was when I was finally starting to move on that these men decide to say just enough to rekindle what took months of pretending to be over to get over. It's like they have an a sensor that tells them when my interest in them is running on empty and they refill it just enough to drive me crazy. What's the point of leaving someone if you can't leave them alone?
Then, we play detective and look for evidence. You spilled coffee on my Marc Jacobs cardigan therefore you don't appreciate me as a lover. You didn't finish your spaghetti last night therefore you must be having an affair with the man across the hall. In a hostile dating climate every wave of heat is always followed by a downpour. No relationship can be complete without the passion and the punches.
And after the downpour there's the time in limbo where neither party wants to let it go.
This weekend was the weekend of weird ex texts. I got several messages from the lumberjack trying to get me to go see Hancock. I didn't know a polite way to say, "I know the only reason you're asking me is because your boyfriend won't go with you and I'm not going to be your man on the side thankyouverymuch." This is after he cheated on his boyfriend once with me and then told me he still had a "crush" on me as well and I told him I will never be interested in being friends with him.
Then the German texted me telling me he's depressed which means horny in gay text message language. I told him it's a shame that he thought I was too young for him, and didn't want to have sex when he had the chance, and basically led me on for months like an old spinster.
Then I get a text from the guy I fooled around with in the changing room who told me that he was in a relationship with someone in michigan.
It was when I was finally starting to move on that these men decide to say just enough to rekindle what took months of pretending to be over to get over. It's like they have an a sensor that tells them when my interest in them is running on empty and they refill it just enough to drive me crazy. What's the point of leaving someone if you can't leave them alone?