Love Labor's Lost

volumes of mis-adventures

“No Strings Attached” Part III

It’s been a full week since Chad* propositioned me with his grand idea: a relationship without the continual commitment. Basically a predetermined condition on a finite sex escapade. I had decided quite quickly, that  while the immediate proposal caught me both intrigued and off-guard,  ultimately, it’s not me, and not something I can fathom handling emotionally, physically, or any way healthily at this juncture in my life. Between e-mail, text, phone calls, there are just so many ways to go about letting someone down, but I chose my old friend procrastination. I decided to wait until he contacted me in order to tell him what’s truly on my mind. Like sand through the hourglass…the inevitable would occur.

After spending the week carrying on as usual, and a weekend with great friends, I received a text message:

C: Wanted to say hi. I’ll call tonight at 10:30 11ish. Hope you’re doin well.

9:40pm Phone Buzzes.

Buzz once, I don’t really want to talk to him. Buzz twice, you need to just stand your ground and tell him sorry dude. Buzz three, ok fine, pick it up

Hello?

HEY!

How’s it going?…

The conversation came and went, and I didn’t get to say anything that needed to be said, although there was an invitation to get drunk together Saturday night. Flattering obviously.  So, the next morning I resorted to e-mail, for better or worse.

In response, I received a lot of apologies for being so forward, a lot of “if things were to go on” I would have more control and things would go “my way,” a lot of trying to convince me that he really liked me, “your humor relaxes me, your intelligence intrigues me, and your beauty moves me.  I like your company, and hope to see you again in the near future.”

Shortly after receiving this e-mail Chad and I conversed.

C: so what’s your choice?

*pause*

C: look, you don’t need to say anything, wanna just go with the flow?

Me: haha, no, I want to be friends, and I get you can’t do that. I’m sorry. I can’t do this with your girlfriend in the picture, it’s too much. I hope you do take me up on being friends.

C: I have over a thousand of ‘em, and I’m a busy lil’ shrink, nonetheless, I’m here if you want me.

I guess my humor isn’t that relaxing, my intelligence isn’t that intriguing, and my beauty doesn’t move much. I call bullshit, boy.

Next.

 

*name changed

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