…What Would You Do Part II

Last week, I asked y’all how much pull your friends had on your potential suitors. I don’t really have a formal statistic to throw out, since I didn’t actually have a poll to click and I really hate math. I don’t think it matters, though, because the responses I did get were pretty even. I guess I expected the answers to lean a little heavier one way or the other…

rules of feminism


Moving on. Like I said, I’d already made up my mind before I published the piece. So here’s my story: 

Once upon a time, in the magical world of the Bumble App, I started talking to a boy I called “Mr. Competitive.” I enjoyed our chats, many of which consisted of us trying to out-compete each other, since we are both retired athletes.

Finally one evening, we met in person. For the first time in a long time, I had butterflies. He wasn’t exactly my type in a lot of ways, but our chemistry and movie taste was good, so I let that slide. Then, I made a mistake. I accepted the dreaded “Netflix ‘n’ Chill.”

Everything, of course, went on a pitfall from there. Texts were more sporadic and we were no longer taking part in witty banter and constant competition. Although he insisted he wanted to see me again, he was perpetually “busy.”

Then one day, scrolling through Instagram, I came across a photo he posted on what looked like a double date (yes, I followed him after he followed me/asked me to…and never again). Him + Blonde Girl + Brunette Girl + Other Guy. Looked like a date to me. My heart started pounding. I kind of could possibly like this guy, maybe. But mostly, I was angry that he couldn’t just tell me he wasn’t interested. I passive-aggressively liked the photo, even though bluntness is more my style.

Finally, it ate away at me and I confronted him…very aggressively. While I might have tried to be a little nicer to him…who am I kidding? The putz deserved it.

Oddly enough, it sparked quite the debate and after long, angry messages, we finally settled on just being friends. Which became friends with benefits. Which led to him joining my friends and I at the pool.

They hated him.

But I still kind of liked him…until I saw an odd side to him. It was like suddenly, over night, he’d become self-conscious and vulnerable. What turned me off even more, was that his interactions with my friends (mostly guys, a few girls, all attractive) reflected that insecurity.

So quite frankly, I don’t blame them for disliking him.

Because I am confrontational and don’t like awkwardness looming over me, I reached out to him not long after and put a stop to being friends with benefits. After all, that’s not what I’m interested in. Too much drama. Besides, I’m not the kind of girl who will stand idly, allowing any old schmuck to use me as an ego boost.

If he did like me, I’ll probably never know. But to be honest, I’m #overit.

 

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