Saturday, March 22, 2008

News Flash: Girl's Heart Broken Yet Again

When a man after a man decides after about 3-6 weeks of dating me to start treating with with uttermost neglect and carelessness, I can't help but think that there must be something repulsive about me. It's, evidently, not on the surface, since I manage to hide it from them for those said 3-6 weeks, but after that trial period expires, these guys begin seeing me in a different, apparently, unfavorable light. What's a girl to do when she doesn't know what, if anything, she's doing wrong?

Basically, what I am trying to get to is that I have a strong suspicion that the little "relationship" me and PDA Guy had is over. I can't say I am all that upset about it - I felt like I was settling in many ways. A part of me thinks that I was willing to settle for him is because I was single for some time and I needed a warm body next to me when I woke up a few Saturdays in a row. I can't say that I completely got that urge out of my system but I am not willing to pursue PDA Guy any more.

When we hung out on Thursday, things felt different. I got all prettied up for him and he didn't even try. He didn't even bother to try. He had band practice just before I came over to his place and he didn't even take a damn shower. Eww, dude, seriously?

I was pretty pissed at him and when we said our goodnights, we didn't kiss each other, just smiled politely, like estranged neighbors. It's like my pissiness transferred to him and I felt like he was thinking, "To hell with you. I don't want a pissed off chick." My notions were confirmed yesterday. I called him and he answered; said he was gonna call later, and never did.

Fuck it. Let me move on to something bigger and better, thank you very much.

I called up my friend that night after 7pm as I made a decision that I was not going to wait for the PDA Guy to call - a decision that proved to be the right one. He said that they were all playing beer pong at his house and I was more than welcome to come over. Well, don't mind if i do!

It was eight of us, celebrating the beginning of spring break with booze, music and ping pong balls. After a few unsuccessful attempts to sink the last lonely cup on the table, I decided to give up on the game. My friend and I grabbed ourselves two nice cold beers out of the fridge and our conversation turned to the painful subject of failed relationships.

"So where's your boy?" my friend said, as if he sensed that something was not right.

I sighed, "I don't think he's my boy any more." I went into the whole lengthy ordeal of a story and recounted more than one ways of how PDA Guy dicked me over and how I was done playing his game.

"Wow, really?" my friend responded," I was really hoping things would work out with you and this guy. He seemed nice but I understand why you're fed up with him."

I nodded, "You know I said it once and I'll say it again - I have the worst luck with men out of anyone I know, but what can I do but not give up and just keep looking...Say, if you have any single friends, let me know."

My friend's response was quick and enthusiastic, "Oh yeah! Yeah! For sure! I have, like, six friends I could set you up with. I mean, there's the Artist..."

Whaaaa???! Just when I thought I got a door slammed in my face, a window of opportunity opened itself up.

"Let me stop you right here," I said, trying to keep my excitement in check, "I think The Artist is an excellent choice, because, frankly, I think he is really cute."

"Well, I'll tell you this, I'll tell you this..." my friend replied, "The Artist left today for his home town and he won't be back til the end of spring break. From what I know, there's a girl there he likes and he's going to try to hang out with her. Also, from what I know, chances of anything happening between him and her are not that good. Now, if things don't work out between them two, you will be the first one to know."

"...And if he gets with her, he's off limits," I nodded, understanding the situation, "I understand. Just keep me updated."

And with that, we returned to our game of beer pong, but for the rest of the night I couldn't stop thinking about The Artist and how much I want things to not work out between him and his object of affection. Oh yeah, and I hope he thinks I'm pretty.

I never thought I'd say this but... I can't wait for spring break to be over!

For the two of you who might be wondering what this man looks like, this is him here. I hope no one I or he knows stumbles upon this and recognizes who he is. This is as much of his face as I feel comfortable revealing but, trust me, the man is gorgeous.

Wednesday, March 19, 2008

The Artist

Funny how I should be filling out my scholarship applications, as their deadlines are getting dangerously close, too close for my liking, but I am simply sitting here, refusing to adhere to schedules and time constraints. Also known as, procrastinating.

Next week I am off to Philadelphia to visit my fam, and the week after next - it's Harvard, for a symposium where I am supposed to represent one of my school's organizations. I need this. Travel helps me clear my head and calm my heart. I would travel all the time if I could. But I suppose I should be grateful, not restless - this year I am traveling to more new places than ever before. Let's hope this trend continues.

Though content about my professional and social life, I AM, however, deeply concerned when it comes to matter of my heart, hence my urgency of trying to get away from Cincinnati for a bit. Not that I am trying to dilute myself with notions that I can get away from my own emotions, feelings that are ever so persistent in my head, twirling around, disturbing my peace.

The PDA Guy, a bunch of my friends and I went out this weekend to an Italian restaurant downtown to indulge in pasta and chicken parmesan and various other culinary creations. After dinner I asked him, as we were walking back to my car:

"So are you coming out with us to the wine cellar? We're all going in an hour or two, and you should join us."

"You know... I hate to be a party pooper, but I am just a little tired from all the overtime this week. I am thinking about going to bed around midnight..." he said, and squeezed my hand, as if reassuring me that he's not simply bailing on me.

"Well, all right. I can understand that, but... if I get done early, do you want to hang out for a bit?" I was hoping he'd get my hint that I was really asking him if I could come over to cuddle and have sex with him.

"Sorry, I am just gonna go to bed early. I will definitely call you and we'll hang out at least a few times before you go away to Philly."

He sounded sincere and I believed him. I dropped him off at his place and drove down to the wine cellar to meet up with a bunch of my friends who already cracked open a few bottles of wines.

My friends brought other people with them, mostly strangers to me. As the wine kept flowing, and everyone began to unwind, I found myself talking to a couple of people I didn't know. One of those people was the Artist.

I've met the Artist before, during my first introduction of the PDA Guy to my circle of friends just a week ago. The Artist went out with all of us that night but we haven't really talked that much then, as I was preoccupied talking to the PDA Guy and the Artist was sitting all the way at the other end of our incredibly long table.

This night I, however, found myself standing right next to the Artist and him, his best friend and I talked about his girl troubles. Just about then it hit me like a rock. The Artist was gorgeous. Gorgeous and smart and aaaaahhh!!! What the hell?! How did I let my thought spin out of control when he is not the person I should be fantasizing about?

Later on that night, we all, including the Artist and I, went back to my friend's place to play some poker. As it got later and later, we all lost a track of time and it was time to call it a night. Or an early morning, as it was getting close to being 5am.

"I guess I'll start walking back to my place," the Artist said, looking up at the clock.

"I could give you a ride," I noted casually. "LET ME GIVE YOU A RIDE! IT'S NO TROUBLE AT ALL!!" was what I wanted to scream.

I drove him around the block. He lived surprisingly close to my friend's house and as I pulled my car up at his front door, I seriously toyed with the idea of asking the Artist for his number.

"Blah blah blah, blah blah. Blah," the Artist said. I can't recall what his words were to save my life. I was too distracted by his gorgeousness. His number, his number, I want his number now!

"...Yeah. I'll see you around, I'm sure," I mumbled, trying to hide my disappointment, because deep inside, the wicked part of me wanted him to lean in and kiss me. He didn't but I probably would have kissed him back if he laid those sexy lips on mine.

Now I know what I need to do. I need to forget about the Artist, right? The problem is, can I actually make myself do that or am I enjoying my fantasies about him a little too much?

Tuesday, March 11, 2008

After Sex

I really don't know if there are still people out there over the age of twenty who refuse to believe that the minute a boy and a girl have sex, everything changes. I don't know why many horny guys, in a heat of a passion, still want to propagate the lie of "Nothing is going to change. It is not a big deal. Things will be just the same as before."

So this weekend, I've decided to take my chances. I've decided that it was time to do it with the PDA Guy. My affections for him have grown exponentially in the past couple of weeks, despite a few set backs here and there. In fact, whether we had directly talked about it or not - I've decided that I was going to be exclusive with him. That meant calling my second date off with the Hot Guy.

I know a lot of people take advantages of the opportunities presented to them when they are single. And there is absolutely nothing wrong with that. Dating two or more people, without expecting anything overly serious to come out of a relationship is perfectly fine. However, I am one of those people who, the moment they begin to genuinely like someone, forget about their back-up plans and other dates and devote themselves wholly to the affections of one person.

I know it may be crazy, but I couldn't even stomach thinking abut kissing the Hot Guy, if we were to have another date. When I am in my infatuation mode, I can't think of anyone else in a sexual manner because, inevitably, my thoughts turn to the person I am currently crushing on. No one else matters. No one else comes even close.

I know, just a few weeks ago I was far from sure if I was even going to see the PDA Guy again, based on my, then, mixed feelings about him. But as we hung out more and more, I couldn't deny my unquestionably increasing intellectual and physical attraction to this guy.

So this weekend I felt it was the right time to play more than kissy face with the PDA Guy. I figured it was time to take it all the way. Seal the deal. Bring the train home. Whoa, I should stop right now....

And now that we are in the "after sex" stage of our relationship, I am wondering if this is where it all goes down the drain or if this is really something that's going to cement itself in my personal history as more than a fling. I kind of don't want another failed quasi-friendship ended prematurely by sex. It's been almost a year to date since my first date with mrX - a guy who broke my heart like no one ever had before. It took me six stinking months to get over what was a fairly short relationship, all because I fell for him too fast and too soon. I am cautious as I had vowed that I would never fall for a guy in that short period of a time ever again. And though I am not at that point with the PDA Guy yet, I can definitely attest that I am developing a HUGE crush on him.

So what's going to happen now? I don't know. Did PDA Guy really just use me? I don't know. Am I being too analytical and overly dramatic? I don't know (bordering on a yes).

What I DO know if that tomorrow is his birthday and in a few short minutes I am doing to be driving all the way to Kentucky (25 minutes!) to a fancy liquor store to buy him an expensive, luxurious bottle of his favorite liquor. I will spend way too much money tonight, and tomorrow I will text him bright and early with a "Happy Birthday" message. And if he gets back to me, I will breathe a sigh of relief. And the seas will part, and flowers will bloom, and everything will be right with the world. But if he doesn't... then hey, at least I get to keep the liquor. And drink it too.

Friday, March 7, 2008

Bargaining For More

The date with the hot guy went fine until it was time to kiss him. We both leaned in and locked our lips, but during those brief five seconds, I felt no sparks, no chemistry. I felt emptiness and I thought about all the laundry I had yet to do and all the financial aid I had to apply for.

The truth is: the hot guy lost all his charm as soon as I got to know him. He kept saying, "I am having a good time, are you?" I kept nodding and saying, "Yeah, this is nice", while discretely checking my phone for time underneath our table at the restaurant.

Then he goes, "Since we're seeing a movie after this, do you mind splitting the dinner cost? I only brought fifty bucks with me." Really? You don't say. Actually, I do. I fucking mind, because what was the point of reiterating to me throughout the week on the phone how you like to treat girls when you go on dates and how you always makes sure a girl never ever has to pay for her dinner. Of course, that is not why I went out with you, but after all that talking, seeing you scramble for money in your wallet is kind of pathetic.

After a movie, on our way to the car, he tried to hold my hand and THEN, he tried to make a big deal out of me not wanting to hold it. At that point, I really didn't care any more if I was making a good impression on him or not, so I basically said, "I am not sure I want to date you yet. And I really don't want to hold hands right now. Sorry."

After a less than stellar date, I was pretty surprised and a little creeped out, when he called me the next morning... at 8:45AM. I angrily turned the ringer off and went back to sleep. When I woke up two hours later, I saw another missed call from him. Holy crap, this guy is a stalker.

The yucky date with the hot guy made me reevaluate my situation with the PDA guy. I was pretty excited for our date later on that afternoon, because I decided that this will be the date that makes or breaks his potential of being more than my make-out buddy.

As we walked through a gallery after a gallery of a modern art museum, looking at beautiful abstract art works by various artists, he held my hand as we discussed paintings and installations. My heart... began to melt. He was so much more refreshing, more genuine, more interesting than the Hot Guy. I could actually talk to this guy and reference Warhol and Liebskind and not be afraid that my words would be met with a blank stare. Who was I kidding? I could never have such a conversation with the Hot Guy. Not in a million years.

My newly-found feelings for the PDA Guy were farther secured later on that night when he offered to make me dinner at his place. Never have I tasted pork chops and string beans basked in zesty sauce that were as good as the ones he made for me.

"So are we... dating now?" he asked me that night as we cozied up in front of a TV, and....

Hmm, I don't know. I mean, okay, I said yes. But he wasn't exactly asking me to be his girlfriend. In fact, weren't we already dating? And if so, why would he ask me if we were dating?

I asked the Ex what he thought about the matter and he blatantly replied with," What kind of a dumb question is that? Of course, you are dating. You went on six dates - that's called dating."

So, here we are. PDA Guy and I... I and PDA Guy... we're dating. Whatever the hell that means.