I Need a Break From Dating
Just be consistent for eff’s sake.
How hard is it for men to be fucking consistent?
If you’re great, stay great. If you’re a douche, stay a douche. It feels like it changes daily.
I’m currently dating a very sweet guy named Thomas. He fell hard and at this rate, we’d live together if I didn’t have a yardstick reminding him that I’m not committing to anyone until I’ve moved out from the house I share with my soon-to-be ex-husband.
In the other corner is Sean, a guy I dated for a few months until we simultaneously ghosted each other. An incident with my company that made the news prompted him (and every other guy I’ve ever dated) to reach out and ask if I’m okay. I knew he’d come back; they always do. But my resolve to formally ditch him weakened when he was sweet and asked to hang out again when he was done traveling for work.
What can I say, I’m a sucker for muscles and his closets with barn doors.
Thomas texts me constantly. From the morning when he wakes up until he goes to bed. Shockingly, he’s able to function at his job. I message all day with friends through various chat apps and even I’m like, “okay this amount of texting isn’t sustainable.” On the flip side, Sean barely writes. Since reconnecting, he messages more frequently.
As soon as one date ends, Thomas immediately asks when we can have the next one. Everything with Sean is pending his work travel schedule and the nights with his boys.
Finally, he made plans with me when his conferences and meetings allowed him to fly back. I figured I’d go for curiosity’s sake; would I still like the guy? And would it be fun to be a dick and ask him what the fuck is with trying to pin our lack of communication on me ghosting him?
That’s not what happened.
The plan was to see Sean an hour after he landed; that gave him time to get home and get ready. Despite my desire to go out (Are we just fucking? Or does he want to date and be in public with me?), I agreed to stay in given that he had worked all day and flown back.
He messages that he missed his flight and was booked on the next available. “Are you sure you still want to meet up? I get it if you’ll be too tired.” I give him an out. Sean enthusiastically declines and says he wants to see me. That’s the most energy I’ve ever gotten from him.
Our evening starts at 9 pm. I wanted to look sexy but not whorish. I opted for a tight tank top (no bra), hoodie, and skinny jeans. Something that shows skin but doesn’t give easy access.
Sean opens the door and I stumble for an awkward kiss. Why…why…did I do that? I have all the sexual prowess of a cow in heat. I apologize for mauling his face. Figured at least I killed any tension with my ever-so-cool moves.
Dude is ultra chatty. I’m half listening to Sean as I realize he’s boring AF. I can talk to Thomas for hours and it flies by. I think thirty minutes were filled exclusively about his experiences as a 6'3 guy and airline seats. Unlike in the past, he slides in loads of compliments my way.
I gaze at his face. He’s not as good-looking as Thomas but he’s got ultra swagger. The travel from his new job in the past two months has visibly killed his ability to work out as much; I can see his stomach has gotten pudgy. Sean’s neglected his expensive smart home gym.
Somewhere in the hour-long story about his ex-wife’s fiance, he stops himself and begins kissing me. I suddenly remember that the last few times I saw him, he could barely thrust without getting soft. My mouth sure as fuck isn’t playing heart surgeon to revive any dicks this evening; it’s exhausting and my TMJ screams in agony.
The next hour is spent having sex. It seems if I’m on top, Sean can stay hard. Except that’s like, work. He’s a foot taller and well over 100lbs than me; I’m trying to not fall off the guy. Revival by mouth was fairly quick and not enough to bother me. When on top, he mentions a few times how he’s out of practice. I want to tell him that this is better than he was the last few times.
Without a doubt, sex with Thomas is a thousand times better. Except he does this thing where he calls me “baby” and coos for me to cum like I’m a toddler walking for the first time. I believe he thinks he’s in control and permitting me to have an orgasm. Pfft, like I need anyone to tell me.
When Sean talks during the sex, it’s barely audible. I hate constantly asking him to repeat what he said. “I’m so close,” he finally whispers. As someone who is easily multi-orgasmic (my only redeeming quality, I assure you), I’m ready to call it quits long before guys are ready. So I cheer Sean on in hope that he’ll finish already. Eventually, he does.
Twice in the evening I tried prying out of him what he thought we were doing dating-wise. First, I jokingly say that I thought maybe I was really bad in bed and that’s why he stopped talking to me. He shakes his head and says how he went off the grid when he started his new job. Later, I tell him that I had considered messaging him to say that we should at least fuck; again, he mentions travel for work. A CIA interrogation expert, I am not.
I leave and realize I did the complete opposite of what I set out to do.
At this point, Thomas sounds like he’s a better choice, right?
Except at the start of the evening, I text Thomas that I’m busy doing stuff. By the time I get home from seeing Sean, it’s late and he gets up early for work. Being a night owl, I stay up and see a text from him at 3:40 am.
“Are you okay?” he asks. “Got sucked into some stuff and then figured I’d message you tomorrow,” I reply.
Thomas texts that he got worried. My irritation level skyrockets. “Unless I tell you that I’m driving to Compton at 3 am, you really don’t need to worry about me.” I end with a smiling emoji to hide my annoyance. Someone raising a level of concern because I haven’t texted for a few hours (after literally saying, that I wouldn’t be texting for a few hours) is too much cling for me.
“Just a quick little gnight would’ve been cool,” he replies.
Oh, fuck no. You did not just give attitude, expecting a good night text from the chick who has told you repeatedly that she can’t commit because she’s unable to do girlfriend-type behaviors.
The next morning he apologizes. I give him a pass. Sadly, it’s short-lived.
This evening, Thomas drinks with a friend and I get a series of incoherent texts that are a mix of cryptic-attention-seeking ones and loads of overly-affectionate ones. My annoyance is sky-high.
“Can you and I just split from our former and marry?” Yes, that’s verbatim what he wrote. I question a typo from an earlier text. “What if we just made a pact…I dinno.” Again, that’s exactly his message, typo and all.
Oh hell no. I can’t handle this pedestal effect where he spends all day complimenting me and now gushing words of love. There’s only so often I can repeat that I’m not committing and that we’re both free agents.
Thomas is what kids today would call a simp, which is “someone who tries way too hard to impress the person they like, often going above and beyond to satisfy their every need. This, in turn, devalues them as a person, acting subservient to their crush or partner.”
That nails it.
The inconsistency in Thomas and Sean’s behaviors is exhausting.
Sean is either aloof and non-communicative, or chatty and all up in my nuts.
Thomas is either confident and self-reliant, or insecure and clingy.
Figure your shit out gentlemen. Because right now, I’m making a choice. And the choice is neither of you. I’m finally in home buying mode, which is the home stretch I’ve ached for all year. I need consistency, regardless if it’s purely for sex or more.
Does this mean I’m cutting ties with either of them? Of course not…I like sex and wine. But my care and effort levels are dropping to almost comatose levels while I take care of my personal business.
I have a goal for my future and I’m laser-focused on getting there as I plow through this divorce. The relationship with myself is the only one worth nurturing until I get there.
