Cutie came over last night, as planned. I thought we might talk before we did “the deed” but we did it twice and finally he started asking me about it. As I suspected, he knew that I had developed feelings for him. He said if I had, we should talk about it. As he lay there on my chest, my heart began beating a million miles a minute, fluttering really. These types of conversations make me very anxious — I’d rather have a visit with my gyno! He didn’t mention it, but he had to have felt it. So, I tried to tell him how I felt, and I did a shitty job.
He listened and talked while he held me and basically let me know he did not have those feelings toward me. I can’t remember how it was said, and Cutie is very diplomatic and sensitive, so however it was communicated was in a nice but forgetful way. Which, I guess I am thankful for.
We moved on — well, tried to — and started talking about relationships in general. He wants one . . . someday . . . just not with me. And he dates currently (no one special at the moment), which I guess I knew because he’d mentioned things a time or two and looking back I chose not to acknowledge it. He told me about how he was being set up by a friend to go on a date tonight and the woman has three kids. Not only does Cutie not want kids but he doesn’t want to deal with the lack of freedom of someone else’s kids. Of course, the wheels are spinning and I’m thinking, “So, you’ll go out with someone with three kids when you don’t even want kids but you won’t go out with me?” And then, I did something stupid. I asked Cutie why he wouldn’t date me?
I could see in his face that he was very uncomfortable. He stumbled a little. Then I felt bad because I knew I was putting him on the spot. I didn’t want to know the answer, and honestly, sometimes we don’t know why we don’t want to date people. Sometimes we just don’t. But, still, I waited. His answer was that is was the chemistry outside of the bedroom. To which I replied that it didn’t make sense because we’ve only spent time outside of the bedroom once and it was the first time we met, which coincidentally led to the second, third, fourth, fifth . . . etc. meetings. He agreed with me and said he really didn’t know why. And maybe he doesn’t or maybe it’s just that what he has to say would hurt me too much.
It burned like hell. And it wasn’t because I was in love and my heart was broken. It’s just that, well, it hurts to be rejected. So, I laid there not knowing what to say. I was half pissed, half ready to cry, half confused. I wanted him to leave but I didn’t. I wanted him to get out of my life, yet I really wished things could stay the same. And I regretted saying what I said. The truth is — and I’ve said it before — if a man is into to you he lets it be known. There was no point whatsoever in me copping up to my feelings. The only reason I did it was to relieve myself of the burden. I should have sucked it up and lived with the feelings or ended the relationship. It was selfish.
For at least ten minutes I laid there, awkward and fuming. I was ready to say something nasty or cry but remained silent until it passed. He held me, rubbed my hair, my back, etc. Kissed my head. He asked if I was OK, tilting my face toward his and kissing my forehead. I would say, “uh huh” or “I’m fine”. I wanted to be pissed but I couldn’t be mad. He feels how he feels and it’s not like he led me on or anything. It was the situation I was mad about. Why did I have to find someone who could be the right person, finally, in someone who doesn’t have feelings for me? After it was quiet for awhile he asked if the situation was hard for me, trying to get me to talk and, big mouth that I am, said that yes, it is always hard to hear that you’re good enough to fuck but not good enough to date. I meant it, but I shouldn’t have said it. He said that wasn’t true and I apologized and said that it wasn’t fair of me to say that.
It all seemed to go pretty much back to normal, as normal as it could anyway. We had sex again (I think he did it for me) and then he left. After he was dressed he kissed me and hugged me, and I apologized for the awkwardness and told him that I didn’t want things to change. He thanked me for saying it and left. Then I just got ready for bed, had a three-minute cry, and tossed and turned all night wondering what I had done to make him not have feelings for me and what was wrong with me.
I know it’s not all about me. But it’s hard not to pick myself apart and question myself at least a little bit. I go between that and wondering what’s wrong with Cutie for not recognizing me as a great catch, and us as two people with possibly wonderful potential. He tells me he thinks I’m smart, sweet, beautiful, sexy, hot, funny, etc. So, what’s the problem? Is he just lying to keep me interested in fucking him? He’s not a scumball and honestly, the sex is out of this world. It’s not like he can’t have his share of women, either. But, it doesn’t matter because the sad fact is, he’s not interested in me.
I’m trying to decide whether I should just write him off or try to put things back the way they were. He texted me this afternoon, making a comment about how I wore him out, smiley face, etc. and I haven’t texted him back yet because the only thing I can think of saying right now is, “Have fun on your date tonight!” and that would not be cool. So, I think I just need to give it some time. Time to cool off a little and get some sleep. Time for me to laugh at myself, because we all know that’s how these things end, right?
Ironically, on February 16 I wrote this post and placed it in my draft file. It caught my eye today. Maybe it was a sign:
If you won’t date me, don’t fuck me
I’ve figured it out, I don’t mind the casual sex or the lack of monogamy, but I don’t like knowing that my partner is using me just for pussy.
Personally, I only fuck people I would date, one night stands not included, but since I don’t do those it doesn’t matter anyway. I know without a doubt that I am not ready to date. I’m not fucking men while waiting for Mr. Right. I am 100% certain that if Mr. Perfect came along tomorrow and asked me to be his girlfriend, I would date him and fuck him, but I would not commit, not give him a drawer, not meet his family (unless there was a wedding he needed a date for, or a funeral).
I can see you saying, “Riiiggghhht . . . just wait until it happens and then we’ll see what you do.” But really, it’s not in the cards for me. When I think about a committed relationship, it causes me physical and mental anguish and frankly, the best think I could do at the moment for a potential great relationship is wait it out. I would destroy a relationship right now.
So, when I’m having sex with someone casually and I hear they are dating, it makes me wonder if I am chopped liver or what? If he’s sleeping with different people for variety and/or convenience, I am OK with that. But if he’s thinking, “This’ll do for now” I’m not really interested. Of course, no one’s going to come out and tell you that.
This is the first time I’ve had such casual relationships. I’ve had them, but the “friends” portion was always there. Granted, my two FWBs and I communicate often between having sex and we spend hours talking when things are all said and done, but . . .
I also think that if someone is looking for a relationship they should stop seeing their FWB.
I guess I’m just funny like that.