“Now and then I think of all the times you screwed me over … You said that you could let it go, and I wouldn’t find you hung up on somebody that you used to know.” -gotye

Now and then I think of all the people I used to know.

It was easier with them, to cut these insignificants out of your life; when you got tired of them, you could just dismiss their ineffectual words and unimportant hangouts. When, you think long and hard of how bored you’d be at some moments–giving them all they wanted but never getting much in return–sitting around watching them play videogames, standing there while they pushed a soccer ball around, goofing off with their spazzy buds. It was all so you could wait anxiously for the steamy five minutes in their room–after which you could rush home to paint your nails and plan out the rest of your life.

It’s so much easier to think of these people as just bumps in the road – the road to the ever-expanding, bigger picture of your whole life, than really important timeframes with really important people who meant a great deal.

You may have had some sort of attachment here and there, but in the whole scheme of things, you reminded yourself: you were never seriously hanging on to every thing that was uttered from their lips [as opposed to those whose words you admired], you rarely wanted to spend hours upon hours with them [as opposed to those whose presence you begged for], you laughed quietly and worried constantly [as opposed to those you felt completely comfortable with].

But then again, I feel like everyone–every individual–is important, in some shape or form. Love-of-my-life or not.

'Robots are Bad Tippers'

- – -

At a time–back when words held weight and silences between meaningful stares meant the world–I asked him point-blank: “do you have a girlfriend?”

He responded with a resilient ‘no’.

I took it to mean he wasn’t engaging with anyone who meant anything at the moment, but, in retrospect, I shouldn’t have been so presumptuous. Really, everyone talks in so many what-ifs and maybes nowadays, that his ‘no’ could just mean they were a week’s time away from calling it official.

With someone as flaky as this individual, who called me a ‘friend’ but refused to reliably set up any hangouts, it only took a couple months to categorize him as a person I ‘Used to Know.’

“I should’ve set sail months ago but, well, life gets in the way.” -Revenge [Jack Porter]

With another, it was the simple e-mail that he had moved on. After over a year of playing the game of no-relationship with him, I felt that he only did this so I would no longer text him when I was in town. I dismissed the casual chat, and breathed in ten times to gather my composure.

He would only ever be seen through Facebook pictures and commented on in passing. Another I ‘Used to Know’, one I would take to be a longer bump in the road than most.

And yet the latest ‘Somebody’; one who had initially seemed so promising with his lack of emotions. He had still remained flirtatious and friendly in the halls–even after we concluded it would never work out–but randomly, one day, decided he no longer wanted to be cordial. Would ignore my waves and smiles and become a complete stranger when I asked how he was. It was so sudden but perhaps–after a complete rehashing in my mind–essentially needed on his end.

“So when we found that we could not make sense, well you said that we could still be friends, but I’ll admit that I was glad that it was over.”

They all had appeared to hold some connection or importance at the time, but after it all fell apart, after it became apparent we couldn’t even remain friends, after I ran enough miles, chugged enough beers or cried enough tears to rid them from my system–they were all just “Somebody That I Used To Know.”

Just another Gotye song in my head.

- – -

Late-night quick-time talks in my girlfriend’s car–it was 4 a.m., and we were both stifling yawns–brought us to the simple acknowledgment that we missed the old days. The fun times. Back when we were carefree but still capable of feelings.

You know, the ever-consuming, over-the-top, encompassing types of feelings. Back when we were reeling from break-ups, wary of hurting again, but stil curious as to why our heartstrings pattered quite frequently over a particular person. We weren’t going to stomp out these feelings at the slightest hint–we didn’t know how to drop-kick them into oblivious quite yet.

It’s just that we’re getting older–old, sadly–and the aches and pains in our joints are becoming as residual as the bruises on our soul. Just as it’s not as easy to rub last night’s battle wounds and begin fresh the next day–the after-effects linger for days–the same goes for words. Things we say and do nowadays leave little scars that can’t be easily erased.

 ”You want someone to sweep you off your feet but you’re more interested in getting swept off your feet than the someone who’s doing the sweeping. You seem like you got it totally together, but you’re actually really emotionally damaged.” -Friends With Benefits

- – -

Sometimes when I hyperventilate, thinking that time is moving too quickly, I think of all the weddings I’ll be going to–worried that I’ll be buying one too many wedding gift blenders, before I even let someone hold my hand.

“Ew. Your hand is clammy. It’s OK, you’re nervous.”

When I’m there, I’m all there; I say all the right things, I make all the right moves, I consider how that happiness could last longer than just a moment. But then I blink, and that moment feels like lifetimes ago, because in reality–how does one let something so good stay so good … after all the fighting, crying and name-calling?

It’s just a thing I do–something my mom says I picked up long ago. Maybe I’ll change sometime soon. <3

We’re not only wired to want what we can’t have, but we’re also wired to want what we really don’t want. – Ally McBeal

I don’t really know much of anything. I fear my eventual downfall in love and in life will be that sole fact. What do you want to be? What do you want to do? How do you feel about him? I could never explain why I’d want to be with someone, all I could say is that, that’s how I felt in that moment. For better or for worse. I often make decisions based on how I feel at any given moment, rather than weighing rational things I could care less about. And just as abruptly, my feelings could change, without reason, I’d just feel differently about someone. We’d been talking on the phone for a month or so before he decided to visit, and though I wasn’t sure — I knew I was never really sure about anything — I let him. And the moment he stepped off the plane, I knew then, too late, that I’d been wrong. This, about the guy who I would talk to for hours on the phone, who made me look forward to waking up. A few days after, I’d be going out to lunch with a friend. He’d forced me to get out, to stop wallowing in bed over someone who I wasn’t heartbroken over. And even in my depressive mode, when I saw him that day, I recall it occurring to me, for the first time, that he looked cute. There was nothing out of the ordinary about that day. I don’t know where it came from, or how or why or whatever. But that was, that story.

There’s a reason I said I’d be happy alone. It wasn’t ’cause I thought I’d be happy alone. It was because I thought if I loved someone and then it fell apart, I might not make it. It’s easier to be alone, because what if you learn that you need love and you don’t have it? What if you like it and lean on it? What if you shape your life around it and then it falls apart? Can you even survive that kind of pain? Losing love is like organ damage. It’s like dying. The only difference is death ends. This? It could go on forever. - Grey’s Anatomy

I always knew the dangers of getting into a relationship and letting it consume your entire life. I’d witnessed friends falling into relationships, losing touch with their friends and leaning so hard on this one other person that when it was over, I’d wonder, if they’d ever recover. A few years ago, when we were still in college, a girl friend had found out her boyfriend had cheated on her. She’d driven 120 miles from home, and appeared at our apartment. And up until that point, I’d never seen her so. distraught. and a part of me wasn’t sure she was going to survive. We were twenty-one.

Being alone is easy. The only person who can disappoint you is yourself. There are no expectations. You don’t have to hold anyone to a higher standard, so you’re never let down.

Relationships are hard. First, we have to find that line between being with someone in a healthy way, and being all consumed by them. But when you’re with someone enough, you start to have these expectations of them, you start to get used to being with someone, you start to get used to curbing your life, your plans around someone, and then, when you’re supposed to step back for fear of losing yourself in them, and you’re supposed to get used to not being their only priority, sometimes the insecurities step in, whether warranted or not. And some moments you’ll wonder, if feeling that insecure is worth the price of being with them.

I used to be adamant about the way a relationship should be. Two people who understood each other, two people who got each other on a level that’s rarely had between people, two people who were not all consumed with one another, individuals making the choice to be with each other because they fit. And as a result, I never really factored in the insecurities that might arise, the kind that only exist when you’re so afraid of losing something, someone. I thought, that if, you were in the right relationship, there shouldn’t be those insecurities.

But I’ve learned that I don’t know much of anything — if anything is to be true.

“I’m not lonely, I’m alone.” -One Day

I glanced at my phone, all the more aware by the hour that he hadn’t responded to, or sent, a single text today. His last message from the night before, after asking if I would be be out all night, said he was ‘paranoid’–for whatever reason, I was unaware of, or simply refused to acknowledge.

He was trying to be, but was not quite yet, my boyfriend.

- – -

But, yet, as many times as my girlfriends have joked that I respond to situations like a male–I couldn’t stop my mind from reacting in the same exact way I always did when a guy let on too many of his feelings.

I blanched when asked if I could date. Looked at my phone and hid it under my pillow. Rolled my eyes when he called me ‘beautiful.’

As a New Year’s resolution, I told him he should stop saying the ‘L’ word as much–it was freaking me out and I didn’t know how to respond to so many doting words.

"Whatever happens tomorrow, we had today."

I’d always told myself I’d be different with the right person–I’d stop running away from affection, I’d hold the person’s hand longer than a minute, I’d respond to texts because it’s the right thing to do–but while I was sure he was the right person, it just couldn’t be the right timing.

It had to be easier for me if I was ready. I could feel it in my bones, it was noticeable how it was still like pulling teeth to convince myself I needed to be more thoughtful. It pissed me off that he couldn’t behave in a normal manner any longer. Everything I loved about his personality as a best friend, was slowly being overshadowed by how he undoubtedly acted as a significant other.

He was being clingy, making ‘boyfriend’-esque inquiries [are you staying out all night?], passively-aggressively inviting me places [you can come if you want, but you don't have to], retracting the invites but then later getting angry that I didn’t prioritize him [well you had some bar thing to go to so I didn't want to impose]. 

I tried. It couldn’t be said I didn’t. I worked hard, diligently, on what seemed an endless, daily, basis. To show how much I cared. I bought concert tickets, forced myself to the bar on nights I’d normally write off any other person, wrote long and introspective e-mails–deeply expressing my feelings, drove all the way to his house to drop off a thoughtful card, picked him up from the airport–even though it was dangerously past my bedtime.

But he still wasn’t convinced, satisfied, that I thought of him as more than just a friend. Wouldn’t feel content, I was sure, until I screamed it from the mountaintops–or perhaps our city skyscrapers–that we were an item, titled it all on Facebook.

And I refused to give him that. I wouldn’t be in a relationship until I was damn well ready. I wouldn’t be guilt-tripped into changing my status, when I was too invested in my single life at the time. And it’s not even about the hook-ups anymore–because truth was told I wasn’t having them–it was the fact that I wanted to see myself with this right person for years on end, and years–right now–is not something I am currently willing to invest.

One day. One day, I told him once, is better than me stuttering years ago that I couldn’t see him as anything more. Because, now I can–now, I can see how great we could be together. I envision us doing all the things a normal, stable [late] 20′s relationship is about. But, not now.

I’m too damn selfish to pseudo-date a girly boy right now.

“But when it gets really interesting, I think is when we use that same system of symbols to communicate all the abstract and intangible things that we’re experiencing. What is “frustration”? Or what is “anger” or “love”? When I say “love” the sound comes out of my mouth and it hits the other person’s ear, travels through this byzantine conduit in their brain through their memories of love or lack of love. And they register what I’m saying and they say yes they understand, but how do I know? Because words are inert. They’re just symbols. They’re dead. You know? And so much of our experience is intangible. So much of what we perceive cannot be expressed. It’s unspeakable. And yet, you know, when we communicate with one another and we feel that we have connected and we think we’re understood I think we have a feeling of almost spiritual communion. And that feeling may be transient, but I think it’s what we live for.” – Waking Life

We were driving down the Santa Monica Freeway, after drinks in K-Town, and he was telling us about the latest girl he said he was crazy about. This coming from a guy who didn’t believe in love. “What is this concept of love you’re speaking of? You keep trying to convince me of it, but it’s like trying to convince someone who doesn’t believe in a religion to believe in it.” He could meet a girl, like her enough to marry her, but why did he have to tell her he loved her? Why was that a requirement? He didn’t know what the concept was. He didn’t understand it. Why couldn’t he be compatible with someone enough to choose to spend the rest of his life with them, without being in love with them? Maybe he was in love with her, but he didn’t know what it was, didn’t believe in it, so why was whether or not he could say it, a deal breaker?

Doll, in the passenger seat, was unable to comprehend his thought process — what do you mean the ‘concept’ of love? How can you marry someone without being in love with them?

That’s had me thinking lately about words we use so carelessly, without thinking whether they’re actually understood by the person we’re saying them to in the same way — what if when we feel we’re understood, we’re actually not?

A girl friend was seeing a guy recently. He seemed to be crazy about her — told her he loved her within months of knowing her — and then he broke it off. For reasons that won’t be elaborated here, but it was strange to her, that if he loved her how could he just end things so easily? It leaves me to conclude that our definitions of love are different…and this is how he’s always been, with every girl, she’d said.

Love, Soulmates — terms, concepts we use so often that we assume everyone has the same definition of them, we assume that everyone understands them in the same way.

He’d recently thought of a girl as his ‘soulmate.’ As far as he understood it, soulmate was someone who you had a lot in common with, someone who perhaps understood things in the same way you did — no. big. deal. But to her, for the longest time, a soulmate was someone who understood parts of your soul that no one else could ever seem to comprehend, with such ease that it was still a surprise, it was someone you were supposed to keep forever because there was no other way about it, they were too important, they meant that much. And the only reason they weren’t lovers was because well, either the soulmates were of the same sex, or, there wasn’t room in this life for it.

I’ve found it to be the strangest thing lately, to tell the men in my life that I’ve taken someone. Why? Maybe because I’ve never been here, I’ve never had to do that, and maybe because I fear it’ll change the dynamics in our relationships.

But it’s been my theory — my personal belief, that males and females can be just friends. Sure, we choose our friends for specific reasons, whether we’re attracted to their personalities or their looks, there’s an attraction, even in our choice of friends of the same sex. There’s a reason why we choose our friends. Because we believe, that these people are worth having in our lives, worth making the effort for, worth staying up till 2 a.m. talking to for, or listening to their problems or rants or whatever for. A lot of those are reasons why we choose a s.o. So sometimes the lines may be blurred. So yes, in the male/female friendship dichotomy, I do believe that one or the other probably has thought of wanting to be with that friend some point in the relationship. But just because that thought has crossed their mind, it doesn’t mean it’s enough to hold. It doesn’t mean that either party actually wants to be with the other person. ‘Cause so much more goes into a relationship, and at our age, simple attraction — in whatever sense — isn’t enough.

It’s one of my girl friends beliefs that once you’re in a relationship, you shouldn’t have new friends of the opposite sex. You just shouldn’t, she says. We view the world in incredibly different lights. Although I can see where she’s coming from, I disagree. In the car last night, with another girl friend, I said in slight panic, “So does this mean I’m not allowed any new friends? Because most of the new friends I make are guys. Am I never allowed to hang out with another guy one on one?”

It just wouldn’t work for me. Because if you want to be with someone, you’ll be with them. If you don’t want to be with someone, you wouldn’t. So why do we have to choose, in regard to our other relationships?

My girl friend continued, “When Mike became friends with X, I was so happy.” ‘Cause he never really made female friends over the course of their 5 year relationship. Of course he would later cheat on her with X, so bad example.

But she said, it was simply how the two people in any particular relationship are. Their level of security — what they were able to be okay with. And I’m new at this, don’t really know what I’m doing. But I would hope, to me, a relationship is two individuals, who like each other enough to be together, but who are still able to lead fairly independent lives. But that’s just how I’ve always figured it should be.

It started so abruptly and ended just as confusingly in my mind. It was a quiet, very subtle and elusive interaction, only noted by perhaps the most perceptive; mainly, I just didn’t want people speculating on how quickly we’d gone from strangers-to-lovers.

“Ladies, I’ve taken a lover. Yes, a lover.” -Sex and the City [Carrie]

So the second I noticed the tell-tale signs of my disinterest–my inability to motivate myself into a cab to his neighborhood after a weekend shift, my unwillingness to craft sexy texts, my readiness to ignore his suggestive chats–I began to worry.

Maybe, I just needed space. To think. Or, less space?

Maybe, more time. With him. Or, less time?

Pride fools men into doing foolish things, like staying with a woman simply because we want to will ourselves to work it out. -Until I Get Married ["Breaking Up: What it Feels Like For a Man"]

For the record, men aren’t the only ones who stay with a person hoping things will change, hoping, maybe, your own personal mindset will be better in the morning.

When I read the above post from fellow single-ponderer, Jozen C–giving kudos to men who acknowledge when a woman just isn’t working out for them–I realized I tend to draw things out, running away from my problems, hoping that perhaps the other person will confront the issues on their end.

he just grew tired of being with someone with whom he wasn’t compatible. -Until I Get Married ["Breaking Up: What it Feels Like For a Man"]

Usually I’m so scared of bringing up that topic, letting them know it’s just not clicking for me, so worried to see that look in their eyes if they think that maybe things could work out, that I avoid it all together. I hate stuttering out my half-baked excuses.

But, overall, I agree with the message in the post, that it’s much better to end a matter on the note that, hey, I gave this what I thought I could, but it’s not just clicking for me any longer. Rather than, allowing it to get to the point where you leave a bad taste in the other person’s mouth any time your name is simply uttered.

She said, why don’t we both just sleep on it tonight
And I believe, in the morning you’ll begin to see the light
And then she kissed me and I realized she probably was right
There must be fifty ways to leave your lover

“50 Ways To Lose Your Lover.”

“We’re so hopeful at the beginning of things. That it seems like there’s only a world to be gained…not lost.” -Grey’s Anatomy

- – -

We’re getting older, it seems. I see it in the white hairs I anxiously pluck out, feel it in the aching of my arthritic bones, hear it in the daily reminders of people my age settling down.

But, sometimes, it doesn’t seem like change is occurring. And when asked what I’m up to, there’s a hidden inquiry lingering, a silent glance to my ring finger, pondering what choices I’m making nowadays.

Mother: Why don’t you date someone? Even if just, for a month?

Daughter: No way. Because then, they catch feelings. And I don’t know what to do when that happens.”

I wished, with so many people, that I had never taken it the next level. Never laughed, flirted, texted or initiated my way into any sort of dalliance. Because the second that the indifference button is mentally turned on, there’s absolutely no way of registering any sort of interest.

And I would’ve liked this person, in some shape or form, to have thought of me fondly.

It’s happened too many times to count. That I’m left wondering, if maybe, I should just avoid meeting men–for fear of that moment when they realize I’m just running in circles, avoiding any sort of communication, any real hope at emotions.

“Why do you forget to invite someone to a dinner party? … I have to end it.” -Grey’s Anatomy

- – -

Doll: So last night, – and I were on the way to his house and he goes “do you want your own ringtone? I’m going to give you your own ringtone.” And I’m like, “uuuh, ok?” And he’s like, “i mean not that you call me that much anyway…” and then he proceeds to shuffle through his songs until i pick one i like. lol.

Doll: but he’s never asked me out on a date!

Ah, modern romance. Getting your own ringtone means more than flowers these days.

via

So let’s back track a few months. So you’ve just met a guy you’re insanely attracted to, but you can’t figure out how to start a conversation without seeming like you’re trying to start a conversation. Here’s a wonderful guide on when to and when not to send him that text or that Facebook message. It might save you from waking up after a drunken night, realizing you just sent a guy you met once, on a job interview, a 3 a.m. email asking him out on a date. True Story.

Sometimes as much as you want to try to make conversation, if you try too hard or come on to strong, you’re bound to fail.

- – -

What we have is a great love. It’s complicated. Intense. All-consuming. No matter what we do and how much we fight, it’ll always pull us in. What’s mere happiness in the face of all that, right? -Gossip Girl [Blair Waldorf]

I loved him and he didn’t trust it.

It was my fault. I had spent much of my time around him sheathed in protective armor, so that when I did express some sort of clear emotion, an indicator of just how far I’d fallen for him, he was wary of the truth.

“How could you be so indifferent to me then fall in love with me in a matter of a month? It doesn’t make a modicum of sense … unless you’re the type of girl who clings to any guy that gives her attention.”

The right half of my mouth lifted into a smirk at his use of ‘modicum.’  The way he wielded beautiful words so effortlessly was one of his most attractive traits.  He was right about the fact that it didn’t make any sense. Never good at explanations, and not usually one to allow men in too close, he hit a nerve when he questioned my motives.

Wading through the confusion playing in my head, the words spilled out. I explained I was never indifferent to him, it had never happened to me before–but yes, it was obviously possible to fall in love that quickly.

My words lingered there, unmet by any sort of reply. For what felt like lifetimes, the next seemingly thousands of minutes, I sat there mulling over what I said–what I meant and why it was so difficult for me to put into words what was still stuck swimming through my brain.

I didn’t fall in love with him as a consequence of him falling in love with me, and I certainly was not the type to ‘cling’ under any circumstances. In the past, I’ve been known to do the opposite of this.

Something about him–as most cliché love stories flow–was different. When he looked at me with those sociopathically blue eyes, those eyes that seemed to know everything about me without me speaking one word, I wanted to be inside of his head chasing every thought.

Was he deciding if he liked the shape of my nose?

Was he tracing the shape of my well-glossed Cupid’s bow with his eyes?

Did he intend to force something out of me with his unwavering stare?

All of this was enough to exaggerate my already-fidgety and reticent nature.  Butterflies on meth is what I called it, this strange condition, only ever brought on by him. In my mind, that was validation that the effect he had on me was the real deal. That was all I needed to fall into the depths of mushy, sugary love.

In the most out of character fashion, I began to freely let small sentiments of pining slip from my fingertips, drip onto the keyboard and land in the Facebook space next to my thumbnail photo.  This method gave me the time to close my eyes and take a deep breath as I waited for the Facebook chat sound to bring me back into the realness of it all.  I knew, sooner or later, I was going to have to put aside all methods of defense and play it right.

Sooner or later had arrived.

It’s too bad. I had made up my mind that the next time I had the chance, I wouldn’t wait until he was sleep to play with his hair. The next time we were in our own world together, I was going to leave all the bullshit behind and come wearing as close to nothing as a girl with social anxiety disorder possibly could in public.

“Heartbreak comes, rollin’ in like a storm
Sooner or later” -Matt Kearney

-K.T.

- – -

Over a midnight dinner at Honey Pig, this 24-hour Korean barbecue joint in Annandale, we were discussing love, sex and the differences between men and women.

Guy: “I feel like if I bone a girl now (at this age), I’ll fall in love.” (true story)

In our mid to late-20′s, we’re starting to realize there’s a strange role reversal between men and women. When we were younger, the story went, guys just want to get laid — who wants to be tied down in their prime? Women on the other hand, were looking for romance, for love, for a soulmate. The years rolled by, and now, we’re noticing a number of men in their late 20′s, trying to settle down — looking for relationships. And the women at this age? After enough failed relationships, enough morning afters, they’re no longer swayed by a charming smile, by a man’s pursuit — now we’re making them work hard for it, maybe too hard.

We were having drinks at Cafe Tu Ah, this local Korean bar in Annandale (I might be hanging out in K-Town too much these days), and some of my guy friends (grown men, mind you), in their late 20′s, were stressin’ over girls.

 

Kim: “Are you trying to get laid?”

Guy: “I’m not even trying. I’m just trying to get her to like me!”

Guy 2: “I never try this hard.”

Guy 2: “I fucking hate love.”

Growing up, we were the girly girls — the girliest of girls — clad in tutus and pink, having tea parties and dragging around dolls. In the ’90s, our VCR’s had Pretty Woman and She’s All That on repeat. We dreamed of that “prince charming” in our adolescence, and we thought by the time we reached our mid-twenties, we’d have that romance we’d always daydreamed about. Yet, as we grew older, we found ourselves crying at weddings and enduring one too many nights, kneeling over a toilet bawling over the latest man who didn’t measure up.

So, while compared to the girly girls we once were — and in some ways still are (those damn weddings!) — these days it’s a bit astonishing to discover we’ve built a wall high enough to react and behave like a man when it comes to affairs and sex.

Girl: What are we cheers-ing to?

Girl 2 & 3: Single ladies!

Guy: Ya’ll ain’t single, ya’ll complicated. Man, women are the shady ones.

Girl 2: It’s you men that made us this way.

Kim

I used to be sensitive to every text he didn’t reply to, every call that went missed, waiting for his IMs by the computer, and reading into every sentence. “Hey…” suddenly meant “I miss you,” or something else ridiculous. But after so many failed affairs, I started learning not to read into anything — realizing that just because a guy calls all the time, texts after hours, has sex with you, or simply cuddles, none of it actually means that he wants to be with you.

Maybe he might have feelings for you, sure, maybe he’s into you, but unless he says, he wants to be in a relationship with you — he’s just not that into you.

As a result, I started treating men the same way. I’d hang out with guys, text them at whatever hour I felt like, show signs of affection, come over after hours, and I’d always assume that they saw it as I did — we were just friends. And I never bothered to clarify, unless they brought it up. And then, when one suddenly caught feelings, I’d get confused — but we’re just friends. And I’d think, they should’ve known better — as I should’ve.

And sometimes it reaches the point where, even when a guy’s professing he wants to be with me — only me — I still have trouble believing it.

Cor

It took a while to wear me down, but once I was his, I couldn’t think of how things could fit any other way. Once I’d developed this picture of a certain man in my mind — one who said he’d be there at a specific time, attend a certain party, hold my hand during a scary movie or teach my brothers a certain sport…and actually followed through — my heart [and psyche] didn’t have the emotional capacity thereafter to comprehend the complete opposite.

It’s not that I was a jerk to begin with, it’s just that I had too many high expectations that I always had met, and I believed that every specimen thereafter would reach these. After enough let-downs, I quickly adapted. I grew an exterior that wouldn’t let my disappointment show on my face, or pop up in my tone. I’d brush off any drunken tears and delete any saddening texts.

It began working — on the clowns who hurt me in the first place and on the duds who I didn’t give a damn about.

Until karma hit…on the gems that I wanted to keep around but couldn’t figure out if they were worth letting my guard down for.

Ya snooze, ya lose.

Then he ends up choosing the plain jane, fun version of you, the safe one, the uncomplicated one — who was fully capable of saying ‘I like you’ the first time he suggested a sleepover.

- – -

So it’s no surprise, we’ve come across a number of men who’ve reacted like females, astonishing us when they switch the male/female roles on us.

We asked some females, about some moments when they felt like they were the “guy” with the males.

- When he goes on an hour-long tirade over how you don’t make enough time in your busy schedule for him arguing the only time you ever see him is for sex, which admittedly makes him feel used. Otherwise you’re out drinking. I had to pause — this is real life — he’s upset because I liked sex and booze. – Doll

- When his jeans are skinnier than yours. When you’re already a 0, something’s wrong. – Claire

-When he says “you figure out what you did wrong,” and walks out of the room. Why waste time? Just tell them what’s wrong. If men can’t figure out what women are saying when they tell them to “figure it out,” what makes them think women can? – Ivana

- When the guy’s asking “Why can’t you cook?” “Why can’t you do the laundry?” “Why can’t you help around the house?” – Ivana

- When the guy tries to cuddle all night. Who sleeps like that? – Kim

- When the guy asks, “Can’t you just hold my hand…” and my response is “no.” – Ivana

- When the guy’s incessantly texting, Facebook messaging and chatting you, and can’t take a hint. – Kim

- When he picks a fight because you’ve changed your Facebook profile picture, replacing him. – Doll

- When the bill comes after a dinner date and he glances at you, and then into space. The exact same motions I tend to do when dining with a man, so I guess it means I’m paying. – Arrien (I would say that’s a sign of a scrub. – Kim)

- When you’re the one making all the plans. If I know I’m gonna hang out with a guy one night, I would like the guy to make the plans (like choose the activity), not me. so when i end up planning out the evening, like figuring out what to do and where to go, I just feel like the guy in the situation. It doesn’t mean i don’t like to plan at all or I want the guy to always come up with suggestions, but I want the guy to do a lot of the “planning” and take charge. – Doll

- When you want rough sex, and he’s insistent on being gentle. – Doll

- When the sex is bad and you want nothing but to ignore it ever happened, but he still wants to come around. Then says something bitchy and catty when you introduce him to friends. Put it into perspective of a guy pulling the behavior: sleeping with a chick, running out after she asked him to stay the night — suggesting breakfast — ignoring any texts for the following weeks and avoiding as much face-time as possible, he’d be the asshole the confused girl discusses with friends for days. -Coryn

“Why can’t we just be friends?”

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[Note: this co-post was co-written by both bloggers, Kim and Coryn]