I’m More of a Romantic Than I Make Out to Be

July 24th, 2015

If you ask people who know me well, they’ll tell you that I focus on sex to the exclusion of romance. That I have no use for emotions on the whole, let alone for a romantic partner.

But I like “Good morning, beautiful” texts and sleepy phone calls before bed, sometimes not even managing to hang up before you fall asleep. I want to be Facebook official and to post photos — albeit, photos in which I look good.

I don’t say this because I am some special snowflake or because I am letting the world in on a secret about what women like because I know these things are common for men and women alike. But, these are things people wouldn’t expect from me specifically. And why is that?

  • Because I come at relationships from a point of logical objectivity from this time in my life. I view them similar to business transactions, accept the price of admission and pride myself on being able to get along with just about anyone for the long term because I can and not because I choose to be in a romantic loving relationship with them.
  • Because I would forsake romance, but sex? No way!
  • Because it’s easier to distance myself from romantic desires when I am so painfully single.
  • …because thinking about those things only makes being single feel worse.
  • Because there’s humor in coming off as someone who cares for romance not at all.
  • Because admitting what I want can only set me up for even more disappointment.
  • Because I’m not sure how much of that I can handle.

But at the end of the day, I think I need to admit and accept that I am or can be romantic and that this doesn’t make me — or anyone else for that matter — less.

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So I Met a Guy

January 2nd, 2013

And I want to get it all out. There’s so much to say.

I went to a party and met a good friend of a good friend. We hit it off. We talked for hours. It was fun. We barely slept, cuddled a little and talked some more. I was a little thrown off because I hadn’t expected to meet anyone or have a fantastic conversation or cuddle with anyone, but I went with it because I was drinking and you only live once, right? I guess it’s of note that I wasn’t immediately, undeniably attracted to this guy.

But we kept on talking through text and phone calls, which are especially fun and sexy. The attraction grew. We’ve been able to be comfortable and honest with one another, so whatever may be happening is off to a fantastic start.

But — and I have no idea how big of a “but” this is — he is way more into me than I am. He’s already asked me to be his girlfriend. I think, if given the opportunity, he’d say “I love you” a million times. I like him enough to see potential but I am not as sure about him as he is about me.. all the time. At times, I feel much more sure, which has led to what I think are mixed signals.

It’s weird for me. I’m always the one who feels more and more quickly. At this point, I’m usually having to tell myself that I can’t possible be in love. Stop it, Adriana. With him, I feel like I am trying to convince myself that I feel more than I do. I don’t know if I am trying to catch up or if I’m just trying to make it work, period. He’s sweet. He’d be loyal and respectful. He would be a fantastic partner. That I can see already, and if he likes me this much, I don’t have to be single anymore.

Is it the pull of a relationship that gets to me more than the pull of him? Is it flirting and teasing more than who’s on the other end? Am I just asking too damned many questions? (Hint: yes!)

I mean, what’s the problem? I met someone. He likes me. I like him enough to see where it goes. What the fuck is my problem?

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The First Almost-Love

June 19th, 2012

When I was fourteen years old, I met a boy. We shared a morning gym glass and, somehow, forged a friendship talking about HTML and Web pages, while I tried to ignore how utterly untalented I am at the physical feats that I was expected to do in said gym class. At the time, I was probably in some on-again, off-again online relationship with an ex, but I thought that this boy was nice and sort of cute. I remember IMing with one of my good friends, having one of those typical teenaged girl conversations. Did she know who he was? Did she think he was cute? I was sort of, kind of thinking of seeing where things went, you know, romantically. Oh em gee.

This was really the first time when I considered that I might be someone who someone else could like. That I wasn’t as defective as I’d previously thought. That I could have real life romance, just like in the movies where teenagers in high school had romance!

So, I talked to this boy. He would meet me after every class. We’d hang out during study halls, and he would walk me home from school, as I lived close enough to walk. It was flattering, and then it wasn’t. Then it became too much. I needed space. I wasn’t just being turned off. I was feeling almost frightened, because I was out of my element. Then, one day, he wrote me a note. Now, this isn’t a big deal because he wrote me a note. This is a big deal because, in this note, he pretty much confessed all his love for me.

I was barely ready to say maybe I liked him. I couldn’t handle this love. So I did what any teenaged girl would do. I freaked the fuck out and talked to another guy friend. I asked him could he talk to my newfound stalker and tell him that I needed space? Of course, he said. And he did. I don’t know what was said, but I do know that my new friend didn’t talk to me for several months. In fact, it would take the tragedy of 9/11 to reunite us. He would apologize for coming on too strong, and I would apologize for freaking out and not talking to him like an adult.

For years, I joked about my friend-turned-stalker-turned-friend, and we’re great friends now. He’s one of the few offline friends who know about this blog, the sex toys, the reviewing. But I had no idea that this boy from gym class would become anything that he has been to me over the years. We’re at a point where we could never go back. Because we weren’t able to become romantically involved then, we’ll never be able to now.

I suppose there is a lesson in all of this, but I’m just not sure what it is. Mostly, I’m just glad that I have an interesting story to tell, something to remember and make me think “I was alive.”

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