Is it just me or do some men just plain suck? Was that dream I had that night true? Do I give myself away too easily? Am I easy? I mean sure, I tend to act on impulse more often than not around men, especially men that are good looking, dominant, powerful and reek of masculinity. But I'm not stupid about it; am I?
I suppose I could give a hundred-million explanations on the reasons why he hasn't called or e-mailed me in 2 weeks. His 5 jobs, all part-time, keep him busy. Maybe he lost his internet connection. But that one doesn't fly since I see him on MSN every time I log in. So then why won't he talk to me?
He's just not that into me, I guess. All women eventually meet a guy whom they really connect with, only to realize that it was a one-way connection. Those feelings weren't reciprocated and you're left feeling like a dolt. You give excuses on why it was like that, normally all blaming the guy: "He doesn't like me b/c I laugh funny", "He's not calling because he's a jerk", on and on it goes, when all along there's no scapegoat. There's just the simple excuse of "he's not that into me".
Hercules just aint that into me.
Plain and simple.
He's not the first one and he won't be the last either.
Sure, my excuses are:
I've got crooked teeth.
I dont have a car.
I don't like cats.
I hate cooking.
My laugh is sometimes annoying, even to me.
And I wouldn't 'fully' put out.
Of course, the last one is obvious. I've been dumped for the same reason lots of times so I'm used to it if he would just come out and say it. It's not going to hurt my feelings any. He's right, I won't put out. I'd rather not risk getting pregnant, despite barrier methods. I'm not stupid. The chance is slim but with my luck in life, I'd come up with the short straw.
Men do suck though.
They tell you how much they like you, how they really connected with you, how they feel as if they've known you forever and then when your pants don't hit the floor it's like trying to get a straight answer out of a tight-wad politician. All of a sudden, the same guy who was texting, IM'ing, e-mailing and calling you for a week has dropped off of the planet with no explanation and, of course, no forwarding address to Hell.
And yet, we women keep going back to them! We get our hearts ripped out and stomped on, pulverized and given back in pieces time and time again but we keep running to the next one. As if he's any different. Given the chance, all men do it. They're all prone to being disgusting, rude, ignorant, mean, sneaky little bastards. Yet I love them. Desperately.
Maybe I should just say fuck it, put my emotions in a locked safe and start living like the girls from Sex and the City. I mean, there really isn't any pride put on being a 22 year old 'virgin' these days anyways, is there? It's certainly not helping my love life. Besides, if I get knocked up there's always welfare, isn't there? /sarcasm.
When did we lose our old world values?
When did we start to place more value and praise on bed hoppers than those that, if not saving themselves for marriage (which I'm not), do not cheapen themselves by fornicating with multiple partners?
Is this normal?
Am I abnormal for having no desire to play Hide the Weenie with every guy I meet? (although, honestly I am tempted a lot of the time!). Am I abnormal for wanting to at least date the guy for a while before I go down that road? Is it wrong that I don't want to go "all the way" on a first/second/third date? Should I just abandon these sentiments and hop into bed with the next guy I go out with? Is that my problem? Am I a prude!?
And if I am a prude, why do I feel bad about being a prude?
I just want to meet a nice guy who has a good/decent job, who's loyal, has a sense of honor and duty, appreciates me for the type of person I am, doesn't mind flopping on the couch with a beer screaming at the hockey game while reaching over to periodically grab my boob, will follow me patiently to the mall and wait outside the store with my purse while I try on shoes and then console me when my gigantic feet won't fit in any, restrain me when I want to kill the perky lil bitch behind the counter who's giggling at my monster feet, and then feed me chocolate on the way home all the while telling me that even though my feet are big, it means I've got a more solid foundation than that perky lil bitch with the big boobs, small waist, blonde hair and legs that go on forevern, has. Is that so much to ask for? Is it too much to expect that my man will bitch and groan about cutting the grass but eventually do it if I promise to bake cookies? Is it too much to hope for that when my parents come over, he'll be decent enough to shake my father's hand and not curse like a sailor; actually, finding a guy that doesn't curse every second word would be a good start!
Where are these men that like "fat" girls? Ive yet to meet one genuine one who likes us bigger girls, well except for Hercules but we're not talking about him!
I hate you.
I love you.
I think I'm going to switch teams. :S
And no you can't watch.