There’s nothing for it…I’m becoming a lesbian.
Now this might seem a tad extreme. Or perhaps it’s something you have heard before?
It’s the standard cry of women who are frustrated with their men folk or more typically their lack of men folk!
And it’s exactly what I’ve just found myself crying to my long suffering best mate, Cat.
And as ever her response is ‘What’s Tom/Dick/Harry done now?’ Not that I’ve ever dated a bloke called Tom/Dick/Harry. Although I do have an embarrassing encounter in a field of all places with a guy called Tom I could go into long…actually make that short detail about. Yes! He was a half a pump and several grunts guy!!
Anyway back to the crisis in hand…the latest conquest has left my confidence in tatters.
To cut a long story short, he thought it was perfectly acceptable to sleep with me on 2 different occasions and after we’d had sex the second night to roll over and casually tell me that he’d shagged my best mate?
Okay. I am being a bit harsh to him there. It obviously took a lot of courage to come out and tell me and he really did struggle to get the words out. But still five minutes after we’ve just had sex while I’m still trying to arrange my boobs in a way that looks appealing to drop a bombshell like that isn’t good. Not good at all!!
Plus it wasn’t like he just came out and said it. He did the whole man-huff, that wiggling and going distant thing that they do until you get so sick of it you ask them what’s wrong.
Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t shocked, I was bloody gob-smacked! I did have my suspicions though. It all stemmed from an earlier conversation we’d had about fuck buddies. The long and short of it was we’d both agreed that the whole fuck buddy deal was a cop out because at the end of the day one party falls for the other and it just ruins the already fragile friendship. He’d told me he had a fuck buddy arrangement go sour on him and ruin the friendship and I just jokingly said my best mates name. There was a really long pause until he said ‘No, not Amanda.’
Oh dear.
I should have followed my instinct and stopped things there and then. Unfortunately, I’m the kind of girl who likes to see the best in everyone and even though there was this voice in my head screaming itself hoarse telling me to stay away from him I didn’t.
You could easily argue that this is my own fault and that any self-respecting woman would have given this bloke a wide birth.
Not Me!
I think I must be some kind of sadist. I keep going out of my way to intentionally hurt myself. There is a list as long as my arm of completely unsuitable guys that I seem drawn to; like a moth to the light.
So there we were, the post coital afterglow nicely ruined. Me saying to him I think I should leave, him saying he wanted me to stay. Us falling back into bed together and having some fantastic make up sex. Me thinking, way-hey this is all sorted out, we’re cool.
Until the next morning.
He says those awful words no woman ever wants to hear.
‘I think we should be friends. I need you to much to throw away our friendship on sex.’
I mean WHAT THE FUCK?
So, you tell me you’ve shagged my best mate and wanted to be honest with me (oh, that’s what the other thing was) in case anything more developed between us then decide you need me as a friend.
Again, WHAT THE FUCK?
Men think women can be neurotic, well now you know why. They fuck with our heads, say one thing the do a total back-track, change their minds and we’re left to pick up the tatters of our confidence, attempt to dust ourselves off and get back in the saddle.
I don’t know about anyone else but I’m no cowgirl! I had real feelings for this guy and something tells me he did about me too. Not just my wishful thinking, but there was one point when I was giving him a blow job, he pulled me up to him and kissed me with such ferociousness that my lips felt bruised and I thought my heart was going to force it’s way out of my chest it was beating so hard. It was probably the most passionate kiss I’ve ever had, even thinking about it makes my heart flutter and my knees turn to jelly.
There can’t have been any way he was faking that kiss. You can’t kiss someone like that and it not mean anything.
So now I’m –trying- to play the waiting game.
I say trying because I’m not having any luck at all whatsoever!
I keep repeating the mantra ‘He will come crawling to me. I will not text him. He can get in touch with me if he cares at all.’ But I keep giving in because for some reason that I can’t even begin to fathom, I care for him.
So as of now, I will not text him. I’ll follow Amanda’s advice – believe it or not we’re still mates, I had a bit of a go at her after he told me but we’re cool now – he’ll be going through a process stage where he’ll pull away, date other girls and then have an epiphany where he realises that none of the other girls are ‘half as decent as I am or know how to fulfil his needs like I do – and I do, first time I gave him a BJ he proposed!!!! – Or are as brilliant as I am’.
The waiting begins….
