@twenty-six Does Valentine’s Day

February 14, 2011 § 2 Comments

She’s sugar and spice and everything nice… but when it comes to love and bedroom things, she’s a peppery firecracker with something to say. Meet @twenty-six, sharing a very V-Day tale. I had been out of the game for awhile, a long while. Insecure? Was I ever! And insecurity is a weapon not to be messed with. If you give in to insecurity,  you’ve given into the dark side (see Star Wars, “Luke, I am your father”). So I was in a spot, a weak spot and then I met a boy-man-baby who was in the exact same spot as me.

It was perfect. In theory.

We met through mutual friends, but I’m pretty sure we had known each other for a while. Being such “secure” people we never admitted to it. It was an easy fit, just hanging out, laughing, pretending we weren’t flirting… because come on! Him? Me? Really guys? As if. But it was happening, it was fully happening. Pretending not to flirt in person led to extreme Facebook stalking, instant messaging for hours and hours and hours, and texting, oh the texting. I mean, outside of never being in each other’s physical space, we were fully dating somewhat successfully. (Sooo good electronically…)

I had the “I like someone stomachache,” which is great for the figure. One night I went out with the gals and  I managed to conveniently explain why it made sense that he join us. Never did I say, “Hey I’m kinda into this boy-man-baby.” I made excuses. So he showed up and in the few brief moments we were alone he paid me a compliment … well what he said was,”Is that your dress? Because it’s really short. But it looks pretty good.” HELLLOOO! Are you kidding? The sad thing: it made me feel like a million bucks! If only someone had stopped me.

Surprisingly enough, we actually started seeing each other after that. By seeing each other, I mean I would drive to his house, sit in his room, watch movies and hook up. Perfect, if we were 15 years old. We attempted to go out into public once, but that literally ended in tears, and they weren’t mine. (A story for another time perhaps.)

Then Valentine’s Day came. We had been “together” maybe a month. I had no idea what I was doing. At a certain point I decided to stay on board to just see if I could figure it out. To accomplish this I had to endure the day of hearts, love, sharing love, exposing love… blah blah blah, shut up. What was our plan? I would go over there to “hang out.” That day my mind filled with thoughts… what would he do? Anything? Something? Please do something. What would I do? Anything? We weren’t official as far as I was concerned, so for my not sure what we are boy-man-baby friend I bought a pack of cigarettes wrapped with a bow then got a bikini wax and went over.

I went a step further and wrote a card in which I conjured up some sentimental sentiments. However, when he presented me his gift, I opted to abandon the card immediately. I’m not saying cigarettes and a bikini wax are by any means… heartfelt, but I did get those things for him. And sure, he didn’t have to get me anything… but effectively he didn’t, and acted as though he did.

My boy-man-baby friend was essentially a boy above all else. His mattress was on the floor, shelving made from bricks found on a roadside, closet doors removed to create a beer pong set up in the living room. So when he gave me the pillow (still in its plastic) I was appreciative? Okay, I was confused. He had A pillow,  just one. Whether or not he was sharing his bed, he needed another pillow. I mean, he didn’t have a case for it. He just had it. It was “my pillow” because I slept there occasionally. I get it. But any fully functioning human knows that the pillow was a gift of convenience. He needed a pillow and in the same breath he could give it to me for Valentine’s Day. I didn’t need to rip the hair from my lady parts, after all. So I accepted my pillow graciously and I used the case-less little wonder that night. Sugarplums weren’t dancing in my head, and I had found my answer.

The pillow giver and I were playing it too safe, or just playing for the sake of being in the game. Neither of us wanted to advance. I didn’t trust him or myself. That’s probably why I tried to continue to damage his lungs and why he gave me a gift that was really for him. We weren’t good enough for ourselves, let alone each other. And if we weren’t good enough for even this, what the fuck were we good for? Eventually the whole thing came undone.

I became resentful, faked some sleep and snuck out never to return a call. The dark side taught me how to avoid like a real bitch. Lesson learned: forget your insecurities and go for what you want, don’t just go to go. The dark side will only teach you what you don’t want, which is a great way to generate a long list of “no’s.” Save yourself the time and the awkward gift giving and just go for “yes.” Happy Valentine’s Day.

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