[dropcap]So [/dropcap]I had just finished telling you about the window through my emotional walls. My window, the Nick Name’s window into me, and how it had just closed on his fingers. Only. It’s so much more complicated (and I’ll admit fucked up) than that because ladies are special creatures. And since there’s a youtube video about this, I obviously cannot be the only one who feels/acts this way. Now the video is amazing so I suggest you watch it from start to finish. But, specifically, for the point that I will be making, pay attention at the 1:00 minute mark, about sex.
So the thing is. Aside from being the most amazing chick I’ve perhaps ever come across. This lady (Emily McCombs…who now writes for xojane.com) knows what she’s talking about. Because it’s true. If I like you. You’re getting blue balls. Probably till the 5th date. Though sometimes I cave on the 4th. And if you’re lucky you might bust a nut earlier than that. But not by being inside me. Just Sayin’. Now it’s not an exact science. If we go out and you’re the hugest freak I’ve ever met. That doesn’t mean I’ll sleep with you. But if I’m attracted to you and there’s some reason I expect dating to not work out so well. Yes. You just might very well get laid. I say might because after all. With my busy months of school. It’s been a smidge. And since I’ve not yet managed to find myself a booty call deemed acceptable during these arduous days of sobriety (3 years on Dec. 27)…well let’s just say I’ve yet to really put this whole argument to good use. Lately.
And I know it’s fucked up. Because while I’m standing there all righteously withholding my self. My personality. My friendship. My support. My wonder. Like they’re the big prize on the show. Which they are to me. The guy is probably thinking. Sweet. I get laid and I don’t have to be someone’s boyfriend. I just won the jackpot. Only I kind of don’t care. Because at that point it’s not really about them. It’s about me. And the parts I treasure the most. So yes. I know it’s fucked up. But yes. What I withhold. Behind the wall. Isn’t sex. It’s me. Inside. Intangible. Irreplaceable. Me. Unless of course I like you. And then it is sex. But then technically there’s no wall. Because through dating. Hopefully. I’ve let you in a bit. Brick by brick. Taken the wall down.
So you’re probably asking right about now. What does this have to do with TheNickName? And I’ll tell you. Somewhere between the window closing and the wall being built brick by brick. Stands a man. A boy. Who maintained his status as a contender. A contender for dating? Not so much. But a contender for. Other stuff. Maybe. And don’t get me wrong. There was no fucking way I would pursue him after this. But he wasn’t necessarily out of the race. And I know you’re asking. WHY!?!? Wailing, pleading, begging with me WHY!?!?!? And my answer is so very very simple. Basic to the very core. I was attracted to him.
So is he hot? asks TheHel. And I pause. Unsure how to answer. And not sound like a total dick. Um…not really I say. Shrug. But I’m incredibly attracted to him. And while I could spend hours contemplating why exactly I was attracted to him. The truth was. Simple. Basic. I was.
But at the moment the point was moot. Irrelevant. Because he was busy with work and life. And I was busy with exams. So it became whatever. The window for dating was closed. The brick wall was being constructed. And I was nose deep in the books. At least. For the next week.
Vancouver Dating Blog: Dating Vancouver a Better Place, One “Something” at a Time
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