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If so, please don’t.

There are men who tell you, or allude to, constantly, in every whisper, in every text, how much they desire you.

Then there are men who don’t, at all.

You are mature enough to understand it isn’t in every man’s character to do so. Yet in the most immature of ways, you crave it despite your lucid judgement that words are often cheap. You regard each curt, unembellished word as a rebuff, a slap in the face.

Years of being pursued have spoiled you. Why do I have to subject myself to this, you ask, not that infrequently. But you know; you want to be in equal pursuit, dance a partner dance, not sit like a pearl waiting to be harvested.

Are you coming over?, he asks.

No I feel ignored so I’ll stay home, you reply. Why am I always coming over? Why don’t you come over for a change?

Why do you feel ignored? You just got home today and asked you for dinner which you said no to, he points out, rightfully.

It’s just a feeling, you say. Because I want to have dinner with you, not you and your many friends. Because you don’t sound like you miss me at all. Because I feel like an afterthought.

I have dinner plans on Monday, but we can hang out on Tuesday, he continues.

OK, you reply. In actuality you’re hurt. You detect some nonchalance in his tone. What am I, an afterthought? We can hang out? Are you doing me a favor? If so, please don’t.

I’m well aware I’m keeping rhythm to a silly, confusing and unnecessary dance: ‘what she says vs what she thinks’. It seems absolutely crucial for self-defense.

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8 thoughts on “If so, please don’t.

  1. C. says:

    I understand what you mean…perfectly. We are, very much so, disadvantaged (or not?) by our scrutiny of grammar. Of the words that hint of nonchalance, or the punctuation (or lack of) that shows no excitement… And I am also inclined to think that some men just don’t quite speak or comprehend that language. It’s just whether we can accept that…and fool (or will) ourselves into thinking that they love us all the same … nevertheless. But after we have desensitised ourselves to the nuances of love, that desire/radar is painfully awakened after watching a romantic French film or reading a sad love story. Depending on how tired we are of reliving the break-up process, the cycle repeats itself… such is the sad irony of life.

  2. Nicholas Eng Your Brother says:

    Eh eh eh, first time reading your blog in years. Why do you label guys as alphabets lol? How many alphabets have you conquered so far? Hahaha fuck I’m mean, oh I’m booking my air tix home soon! Weeeee

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