For some idiotic reason, after the high of avoiding another douchey male, I thought it would be wise to joke and play with the Boy. We’d had a few good days, maybe even a whole week or more. Minus the day I was seriously considering suicide and he told me I was an idiot. That was the nicest thing he said until I begged him to say something nice to me.
That’s kind of a thing with us…
I have to beg him to say something nice, and then he’ll look me in my face and tell me that he likes having me in his life. That I’m an important person and that’s why he keeps fighting to keep me in his life. It doesn’t compute. Why not tell me nice things first? It would be easier than waiting until I’m ready to jump off a cliff (metaphorically and literally), and then tell me that well, yes, I am pretty, no… not pretty…
He tells me I “rock nerd girl sexy,” and that I’m “good, ball-draining fun…”He’s such a sweet talker.
He did manage to explain how “exotic” was a compliment, and not just a rude way of telling me that I belong on a shelf somewhere, so we do have to give him credit for that.
But again, it was only after I was crying and begging, literally begging him to give me a compliment.
And he wonders why I don’t think he finds me attractive…
A girl should never have to ask for a compliment. Not from a lover, and even less so from a friend.
Her girl friends will compliment her (whether they mean it or not… girls are notoriously catty and two-faced) whenever she’s down on herself. They’ll tell her she looks amazing, and not to listen to any dumb man that would tell her otherwise.
Her straight male friends usually compliment her without thinking about it, especially if she looks good. I think I can count on my hand how many times I’ve gone out with one particular of my male geek friends and he DIDN’T compliment me! He’s always telling me how nice I look, and even compliments my shoes from time to time.
Yes, I am sure he’s straight.
For one thing, a gay man would not only tell me I look amazing, but would probably grab my boobs, to emphasize how great they look! That’s the thing about gay men: they’ll tell you look great the same way a woman does, but will also make you feel like a sexy bitch by treating you like an object, but you’ll respect them for it. One of my gay friends from years ago used to call my boobs “festive” and would fluff them like pillows whenever he saw me. As silly as that is, it would make me feel a little sexy…
Nope can’t explain it. But it’s a universal, if not stereotypical, thing that all my gay friends have done at one point or another. And obviously, I’m not the only one…
So, why is it that the Boy is so against compliments?
Here’s the thing. Whether it’s the Asperger’s or just human instinct, the only way I can tell what a person truly feels about me is to notice the patterns. And only when he’s trying to get inside my britches does he compliment me. And even then, it’s not a guarantee.
It seems like he used to compliment me. Used to make me feel special. It’s been so long since he did that, that I don’t really remember, and I’ve deleted everything he’s ever sent me several times over. Even the really great erotica that he wrote where the main characters were he and I… Which means I can’t go back and check to see.
I know once he gave me one of those accidental compliments that I appreciate so much. Before our first date, he told me that I didn’t “read as Geek,” as in I didn’t come across as Geeky. He told me that I was too good at social skills, and that “those are hard.”
Of course, it was sentences like that that were the reason my mother thought HE was the one with Asperger’s…
And then, to support that theory, there’s the fact that 85% of our communication has always happened over the internet. We chat, we text, we email. We don’t talk. He hides behind his computer.
Which means I can’t tell what he means, most days, because he is vague. A lot. But back then, it didn’t matter. He was charming, and I thought he was genuine when he spoke to me. I thought he would always tell me the truth, and I couldn’t lie to him. I’ve never been able to lie to him.
So we joked and flirted, and he didn’t believe I was a Geek girl.
Then when I told him that I played Sims, he said, “There it is; that’s what I was looking for.” There was a time once where he even recognized that me stopping to play the Sims in order to talk to him was a big sign that he was important to me.
See? He does understand how to read me… Or at least he did. Once. Over two years ago…
Now all we do is fight with one another. He brings out the bitter bitch inside of me.
I don’t know how he can forget those moments. I don’t know why he stopped being that guy who treated me with kindness and made me feel special, like I mattered to him. I miss the guy who changed his plans on a whim to meet my friend Megan because he was interested in me as a person… He made time for me. And that night, when we kissed, his breathing changed, and he told me he was having a hard time thinking straight. He desired me. He WANTED me.
And not just because I was some random place for him to get a little, but because he liked ME!
A few days ago, or maybe even just yesterday, I tried to play with him, to joke and tease in a sexy manner, the way I used to, once upon a time, and he would respond by letting me know that he couldn’t wait to make it a reality. He’d tell me that he was having trouble focusing on work because of our conversation. He would play along…
Yesterday, he brought up one of our old fights. He wanted to negotiate our playtime. “You won’t pitch a bitch if I can’t meet your timeline, right?”
Way to kill the mood. Not to mention it was a heartless thing to say. Just another reminder that he doesn’t really want me. I’m just a stand in. I’ve always just been a stand in for him.
I stood in for his ex, the one he was still talking to when we dated. The one he lied to me about when she spent the night. And then I was a stand in for the new girl, the one who replaced him…
But I’m the bitch…
And like an idiot, I keep going back. Why? Because I was so sure. Because I still remember that night when he kissed me. And I remember the way he made me feel when he used to want me around. And I remember the way he looked at me the night I ditched another date to show up at his house. And the way he took over, in a very Alpha male kind of way, and took what he wanted without asking.
I go back because he’s seen the real me, all of her, and he tells me he likes that person.
But he tells me he likes me while belittling and demeaning me every opportunity he gets, and then telling me he doesn’t realize he’s done anything hurtful.
It’s the little subtle hurts. Like bringing up an old fight by asking if the problem that was before is still a problem. It brings up all the old stuff all over again.
And see, the problem is that I keep feeling the limitations. They hang over us, making him likely to worry about when the other shoe is going to drop. Meanwhile, it makes me feel like I have to prove that I’m not that person anymore. And while I’m trying really hard to prove that I’m not the person who was head over heels in love with him anymore, he’s busy asking questions or bringing up topics that we used to fight about, which tells me I haven’t proved myself worthy yet…
Then I get upset, because I’m trying really hard, and he doesn’t recognize my effort. It’s not enough. I’m still not good enough. Not worthy of his kindness. He’s still pushing me away. He only sees the bad in me. None of my goodness.
And I say that because he never says anything nice unless I really beg. Seriously, the last time he gave me a compliment that I didn’t ask for, he felt the need to tell me to file it away so that there was proof that he’d done a nice thing.
I’d sent him a picture of me in a bra, because I wasn’t sure if I could keep it or not. And he told me it looked good, then came back and added that my boobs looked great in it! And then literally added that I should file that away for later, and not to forget that he did give me a compliment…
Goes back to that Bojack thing, I guess.
So I snapped. There’s only so many times a person can be made to feel like they’re not good enough before they snap. I said really hurtful things. It’s not the first time, and probably won’t be the last time.
But for the life of me, do I wish that we could just move past the Past!