peter pan brain decoded

I think I finally get it. It’s about you. I call you back, I think you want to maybe, I dunno, see how my week is going (because it hasn’t been that great and it’d be nice to talk to a friend). But no. I woke you up from your nap and you wanted to see if I wanted to go to a movie with you, but I can’t so you’ll call me back. Guess what. You didn’t.

This crystallized male psychology for me. You buy me drinks, lavish attention on me all night? That’s because there’s something (possibly) in it for you at the end of the night. You know, if you play your cards right, make me think you like me, you’ll get some. I invite you golfing, you say sure you’ll come. All you have to do is show up. And you like golf, so really it’s a win-win for you.
You really don’t put more stock in our encounters than this. Women analyze every sigh, twitch and eye movement, while for you, every move you make, you think about you. What’s in it for you. Is it easy for you. If you listen and pretend to be sympathetic for two minutes, maybe I’ll go to a movie with you. And that’s what you wanted to start out with anyways.

Although it may be percieved as a cynical perspective, and may paint me as bitter and pessimistic, I really do think the only thing you need to figure out about guys is what their motivation is behind what they do, and their motivation is themselves. Even when a guy is ‘interested’ in you, he is really just interested getting you to like him. Because, really, guys are just like girls, they don't want to be alone and want to be validated for who they are and loved. But they go about it wayyyyy differently than we do. We give love to get love. They hoard it until we coax it out of them, until they are positive that they can't lose. Even if there is no motivation, their needs are always at the forefront of their minds.

Just to clarify: The above revelation only applies to those boys us 21st century women have to deal with who seem to have ‘Peter Pan Syndrome’; an unwillingness to take responsibility or be selfless. My father – not of the above generation, obviously – would be over to my place in a new york minute if I needed anything. Even if it meant cutting into his scotch and cigar time. I also have married male friends who seem to get it.

The moral is that ‘he’s just not that into you’, because, he’s into himself. So no need to analyze every move ladies, just remember he’s thinking about him, even when he’s eyeing you.

ttt

The warm fuzzies have subsided and I’m now immersed in the cold water of reality. In that vein, I’m doing a science experiment. It’s more like a torture test. I want to see how long I can go without contacting him until he contacts me. I don’t want to play games, but I have a sinking feeling: What if, all this time, what I perceived as interest, was simply convenience for him. There’s no denying we have fun together, but would he go out of his way to hang out with me? I have a feeling that he wouldn’t. And even though I know this particular species of Man requires MAJOR patience, the longer this test goes on, I’m sure I will be launched into a Piscean pit of despair that won’t shatter my already ever-broken heart, but will make me question (again): Exactly how long do I have to wait? Is there something better in store for me? Will he still be the man I want to be with when he’s finally ready? Will he still want to be with me?

In the meantime, my good friend has set me up with some sexual dynamite in the form of a Doctor with a monumental name (and reputation in bed). Let’s hope it’s enough distraction from my current self-imposed torture (with only the salvage of my dignity as the current result).

no tears for this mourner

My head wasn’t down, but it wasn’t up and I’m surprised I even noticed. As the truck turned the corner, I saw your face. I know you saw me too. It startled me a bit, but it got me thinking of how you just disappeared from my life. There was no fight, no angst, no grief. It just felt good. Natural, normal. Does that make our friendship any less important? Maybe it was just what I needed at the time. We needed each other. Or, I needed you. It was a hard time for me and you were there. Then you were having a hard time too. And I tried to be there for you. But you pushed me away. I persevered knowing you needed a friend, but in the end, you shut me out. You let your problems engross you, turn you into someone I no longer knew. And it was exhausting, always saying the same things, trying to be supportive, when it was always about you. And I didn’t ask for much. At least I think I didn’t. Just someone who thought about me first once in a blue moon to assure me I was part of the friendship too. But I waited, and it became more and more frustrating. I finally realized I was wasting energy. And maybe that’s why it doesn’t feel bad. Maybe I mourned the demise of our friendship before it happened, and that’s why I don’t feel sad. Maybe deep down I know we’ll be friends again when we’re both ready and that’s why I don’t feel sad. Whatever it is, that glimpse of you the other day made me think; Am I the only mourner at this funeral that didn’t cry?

waiting heart

you let me use your toothbrush, you wanted to cuddle, you held my hand, I've never seen you so happy, grinning like a clown all night. what a weekend. I enjoyed every minute with you, and I'm pretty sure you did too. Have we just been making bad decisions, hard decisions, wrong decisions all along to get us here, where we know better and can cherish what we have, finally, after eight years? I don't know, but I'm scared and confused, basking in the glow of the last couple of days, not brave enough to think about what might be next. Because, everytime this happens, you pull back and I'm crushed again. So, I want more, but I'll wait, because I think deep down we both know, we just don't know when, and it might take more time, but I think my heart's been waiting. It can wait a little longer. (I hope).