Right. Where was I?
So I saw Ben at a hipster music festival. He never came to the after party and took at least 12 hours to send me a message after I gave him my number (three day rule for who).
Let me mention right now that he pretty much led with “I’m not looking for a relationship right now” when we started chatting. I heard him, I told him I’m not keen on a casual hookup. I don’t recall him responding to that though. And let me be honest – I didn’t care that he said that, he was smart and attractive, so I convinced myself on the spot that I could change his mind if given the chance.
So he eventually texts me and I, being as cool and collected as I am, reply minutes, no seconds later. I’m not proud of it, but I’m also not ashamed. So we chat. And it’s pretty damn great. For a whole Sunday we ‘talk’ crap and admit to doing the compulsory social media stalking on one another’s accounts.
But, somehow, I feel like that Sunday, a week or so after meeting him for the first time, my thing with Ben had come to an end.
For the next week, he texts me back intermittently at best, sometimes with 48 hours between responses. I know, people are busy, we all have things to do. But not being able to reply to a text message … To me that means your phone got stolen, you’re dead or you’re just not interested.
I knew his phone wasn’t stolen – he replied to my friend. That also rules out being dead I guess. So that left one option, one option that I was hell bent on ignoring.
Have I mentioned that playing it cool is not my strong point? It really isn’t – wow. So I tried my best to only reply hours after this boy sends me a message and sometimes succeeded. But I also wanted to be on his mind, so now and then I would send what I thought was a cute text – just a “Have a nice day” type of message with an emoji or two, you know. Of course, no response to these little gestures of kindness and potential brain washing.
So I play this game for week or so, wanting to give up but also wanting to keep trying. Friday night plans come out of nowhere and guess who happens to be included in said plans?
So by the time I get to the bar, Ben is wasted and dancing with a bunch of girls – heaven forbid a guy comes near him in public.
I take the hint and sit with with a gaggle of gays waiting for a drink. I hit it off with these guys and Ben notices. He asks me to take a walk with him and I pretend to think about it – who am I kidding, I said yes almost immediately, only pausing long enough to try and contain my joy. I sound like a typical highschool girl right now, don’t I? Oh well.
So we took a walk, and we made out. It was fantastic. It felt like he knew me. You know how generally a first kiss is akward and uncertain? This was anything but that. It was the stuff of movies and novels and other luckier people’s blogs. And then he ruined it by telling me that he knew how great it was, because he’s well aware that he’s awesome and a great kisser. I’m all about cocky assholes, but let’s calm down.
This is turning out to be a very long story, I’m sorry.
That was it for that night, he went off back to his friends and I went back to the gaggle. I left soon after and didn’t speak to him again until I saw him again the next day.
Saturday. I go to a birthday picnic, basically the pre game for a swing party (Jazzy type vibe) later that night. Ben’s there. We say hi and that’s it.
At the Jazz party we don’t really talk, he tells me I look good and we take a bunch of photos with the gang. The rest of the night he speaks to my best friend more than he speaks to me but I figure that’s not too odd. She’s pretty cool after all.
We both end up staying at a mutual friend after the party, in the same bed. Unfortunately there are no juicy details to share. We kissed for 5 minutes. He fell asleep. He woke up and we cuddled. That’s it. At this point I’m sure you can imagine how self conscious I feel – I’ve never had someone fall alseep that quickly, no matter how wasted.
Next morning. Sunday. He wakes up a few minutes after me, gets right out bed, takes all his things and goes and chills with the friend whose house we’re at. I think my ego died there and then. I get dressed. I have some much needed water, brush my teeth and we all go to breakfast.
Later we text. He says his quick escape was to avoid being awkward, because he’s weird and doesn’t know how to deal with such things.
This was two weeks ago and I believe it was our last conversation. I’ve seen him since and bummed a cigarette off him. Oh he also poked my abdominal region cause he knew I had to pee and clearly likes to see me squirm.
I know. What a long ass story and what an anticlimax. Now imagine how I feel. This made me wonder – do people, specifically young gay guys, still date? Are there any potentials out there? Or are we all destined to an eternity of Grindr and meeting pretty boys with zero social graces?