Second date with Mr. Nice Guy was a wonderful success! Granted it wasn’t much of a date by normal date standards. Seems we might have skipped a few steps, but I think it might have been necessary… Though it might suggest that he was using Tinder in the way that most think it’s meant to be used.
Of course, when we originally discussed why he was on Tinder, he admitted that his guy friends told him he needed to get laid, so get on Tinder…But, he also told me that he hadn’t had any desire for that sort of thing. And then he gave me that first unintentional compliment when he told me that he hadn’t desired anyone until now (as in once he met me). And the compliments keep on coming…
He did agree to a third date on Friday night, so I’m counting last night as a win and probably not just a one-off. We spent a couple hours talking and kissing and watching a little television and there was some heavy petting and various other stuff of that nature.
And it was GOOD!
Anyone who knows me has probably heard more than they want to about the kind of similar interaction I’d had with the Boy, and I won’t go into details, but I will say that Mr. Nice Guy has a different set of skills that led to a similar experience, albeit not quite as intense.
Then again my attraction to him hasn’t been quite as intense as it was with the Boy.
Then again, the Boy and I have never been exactly compatible, even though I thought we were.
But that doesn’t matter because the Boy and I are finally, truly, most definitely kaput!
I finally got him to understand that I can’t be his friend the way he wants. We were never just friends. That was never how our interactions started, it was never what I wanted or expected from our interactions, and it wasn’t what he’d wanted originally, and I never understood how he could switch from one to the other and not have any emotions about it one way or the other. He’s always been a bit flaky in the emotional department…
I don’t want to dwell on him, especially not when I’ve got Mr. Nice Guy saying and doing all the things the Boy
wouldn’t couldn’t, but he’s taken up the better part of three years of my life so he deserves a proper send off, a proper explanation.
It happened when I finally realized that no, we don’t speak the same language, and we never will.
I’ve said this before, but I never really believed it. I believed that he and I were closer in personality than either of us wanted to admit to, and that was why we fought so hard. I wanted to believe that we would get to a point where we wouldn’t have fights anymore. But the reality is that our motivations, the core of our individual beings are set to such different frequencies that all we would ever do was hurt each other.
He asked me to look at an article about the whole consent is like a cup of tea thing, one where the person was saying that the analogy was not a good one because consent was more complicated than that. A person may want some of the things that go with “tea” but not actually want a cup of tea…
Let me back up. One of the issues that made things really awkward with the Boy and I was that I wanted “tea” and he didn’t. I don’t mean like it happened once or twice where I’d be in the mood and he wouldn’t, I mean, like there was a time when he told me that I couldn’t try to be spontaneous and flirty because it made him feel pressured when I got into his space so I should ask if he was in the mood, and then a week later he told me not to ask because it killed the spontaneity of the act. He accused me of wanting him just for “tea,” when we were never actually having any goddamn tea!
In case you have no idea what I’m talking about, here’s a video:
Shortly thereafter, the tea analogy came up. He and I discussed it, and it was in relation to him explaining to me that he didn’t have to have a reason not to want tea, and that his wanting or not wanting tea was in no way a reflection of my desirability (never mind the fact that he never made me feel desirable).
This conversation will forever be linked in my brain to our lack of having tea, his belief that I was trying to pour tea down his throat, and my confusion as to why it is so hard to understand why a man refusing tea for no reason could be seen as a serious insult and damage a girl who already struggles with low self esteem.
Let me repeat the key part of that statement: This conversation will forever be linked in my brain to our arguments about tea!!
So, when the Boy brought up a new article about the tea thing, with no explanation other than “thoughts, read when you have a chance,” I obviously became upset.
I told him that I got it, he doesn’t want my tea. And I didn’t want to have that conversation again because I didn’t want to be in a bad mood for my date.
For Pete’s sake, I hadn’t been offering him any tea, and frankly, I don’t want tea from him anymore either. There’s way too much work for tea. I’m talking months and months of steeping for a single cup. Amazing cup of tea that it is, it’s still not worth the amount of effort that he has made me put into getting a single cup of goddamn tea!
And talking to him makes me sad. Sad about why we didn’t work. Sad about the fact that he doesn’t understand me. Sad about the fact that I don’t like the person I am when I talk to him. I don’t like feeling like I’m begging for an ounce of attention, or that he makes me feel guilty because he acts like he’s put so much effort into just dealing with my quirks and my craziness.
The Boy makes me feel like I have to apologize for being myself, while telling me that I don’t accept him for who he is… He makes me doubt my own self worth, and then makes me feel guilty for needing him to build me up a little. I feel like he is tearing me down by not caring about me and I need to be lifted up after three years of
no negligible compliments, and constant doubt about where I stood with him, and a lack of feeling from him.
So we’re through. Really, totally, truly through.
And I’m moving on, which is what I have tried and failed to do so many times before. The difference this time, is he understands that I can’t do it anymore, and frankly, I don’t think he wants to do it anymore either.
And you know what? I feel at peace about it. There’s no sadness at this ending at all.
It helps that Mr. Nice Guy naturally does all the things the Boy didn’t do, but it’s more that I feel Mr. Nice Guy is genuine when he says things.
So, after that tumultuous revelation with the Boy, I went on my rendezvous with Mr. Nice Guy.
And I was nervous!
I’ve spent so much time trying to figure out why the Boy didn’t desire me (especially when I’ve seen what he threw me aside for), and after the Artist said such horrible things to me, and after Superman lied to date someone else (who I also think I’m prettier than), I have this fear that I’m not pretty enough to deserve love. That every man will find me exotic and want me for sex, but not see me as pretty enough to want something serious with.
That’s why exotic is not a compliment: it suggests that I’m only good as a novelty or a toy or a pet.
But Mr. Nice Guy uses words like stunning to describe me. After a pretty intimate act (one that most men say they like to do, but rarely do) he looked at me, lying there, a bit twitchy, and said completely honestly, that I looked amazing…And I’m so used to feeling ugly, I had to tell him he couldn’t say that or I might cry.
It’s going to take a bit of reprogramming to be able to accept compliments like that, but if he sticks around long enough, I might just be able to get there…