Posts Tagged capitalize

A Child’s Plaything

A Thursday finally arrived where I didn’t have volleyball. I thought I would capitalize on this opportunity and do something with my night.

Southern Drawl was visiting home in the South, and I was in the process of dissolving things between he and I. Slowly but surely, I would draw back communications until it was over. I had a great date night with the Jersey City athlete the night before, and only time would tell where that was headed.

That left Middle Eastern. Things between he and I had become purely physical. I liked him, but I was not interested in a relationship with him. He was still in college and apparently entertaining other offers. We had chatted about us over text. He said, “I was just keeping my distance because I am getting too attached to you. And I don’t know what’s happening between us. It sucks because I miss you. Have you slept with someone else in the past week?” I said no. I lied because in truth I had slept with S.D., however, we didn’t have sex. “So what’s happening between us. I get nervous when I think about it. I have an amazing time every time I see you. I don’t want to get stuck in the just friends phase,” he stated.

I had been waiting for this question for some time. I told him, “To be honest, I don’t know. I’ve taken things too fast in the past, and I’m trying to get away from that.” I was being honest now. I didn’t know what we were. We were both on the same page that we enjoyed each other’s company, and we were having fun together in bed. He would send me scandalous picture messages of himself and tell me how much he wanted to see me. I’d put him on the back-burner for a little bit since he grew quite attached. We also went through the Grindr thing, so I wanted things to cool down. He added, “I honestly still don’t know how you feel about me. I’m not asking you to be in a relationship or anything. I know you’ve told me where you stand.” I reassured him, “Just taking it one day at a time and enjoying it along the way. I like you, and if I didn’t, I’d have moved on a long time ago.  He responded, “I’m enjoying this too. I don’t know. Like it’s a little hard because I wanna have fun, but in my mind, I have fun and emotions kind of together. So, it’s hard for me to say I’m not emotionally attached to you in any way. So I just get a little scared because I thought you’re going to move on when you get bored with me.”

I explained further, “I never said I wasn’t emotionally attached to you. I don’t know what this is, but I can assure you it’s more than just sex!” He apologized for being a head-case, and we began to discuss our plans for the evening.

That being said, I did want to be with him. He was great in bed, and it had been some time since I last had sex. I texted him to see what he was up to. “Busy tonight?” I texted. He was still in class, but he had plans to come to Hoboken later that evening. I told him, “So I take it you met someone else…” He adamantly denied meeting someone else and told me he would possibly be able to swing by after class. “Maybe I can sneak out. I really want to see you,”he added. We continued to talk over text trying to make plans to see each other. I didn’t really fit into his plans that evening, but he was making an effort. He got me horny, and I sent him some of my sexier pictures. He responded, “No, no. Don’t do this to me! I’m in class, and I’m wearing tight pants!” I laughed at the thought and continued to send more pictures.

Eventually, he had to bail on coming to see me before going out with his friends in Hoboken. I had been sitting on the couch waiting for him and was quite disappointed. “I hate disappointing you,” he shot back. I simply sent him another sexy picture. He told me he would sneak away from his friends and come see me at some point. When 9:30 rolled around, I sent him a text telling him to have a fun night. Around 11:00, I texted him again. “Wish I didn’t get my hopes up, ” I added for dramatic effect. He apologized, but I was already quite disappointed and ready to move on from him.

He texted the following day to let me know he was using my picture to pleasure himself. I didn’t respond. He told me he would swing by the previous night, and he didn’t deliver. I sat at home alone on the couch in hopes he’d come, and he never did. I was angry with myself for getting so caught up in him. I decided I needed to move on from him. My roster was now cut down to one single possibility.

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Whoopsie!

I’ve been on Grindr for quite some time now. I’ve come to remember certain things about certain guys on there. I recognize when new guys come up, and I recognize when guys I’ve spoken to in the past pop up as well.

N and I have always had an awkward relationship when it came to Grindr. It was how we met, but it was also the catalyst for him cheating on me (and me cheating on him).

After I broke up with Smiles, he asked me to keep a lookout for a guy impersonating him on there. I was so thrilled he found an opportunity to capitalize on my failing relationship in some way. It was so typical of him. He’d also mentioned that a friend found me on there shortly after breaking up with Smiles. The story he gave me sounded like such b.s. I could see right through it. I could tell he had a secret profile himself because what he proposed happened would never have happened. He had a serious boyfriend, and I seriously suspected he was still using the app, just on the dl this time.

One day, I thought I discovered his secret profile. The language he used in the description was spot on for things he’s said on his profile in the past. There also was no picture attached, so his boyfriend wouldn’t be able to find him if he tried. I messaged the profile saying: “Is this [Neighbor’s] secret profile?”

It took a long time, maybe a day perhaps, but the profile responded to me. He asked if he knew me, but I played dumb. I proposed my idea of who he was, but he wasn’t answering me straight. Finally, he said he wasn’t who I thought he was.

We started to chat about different things. He asked where I lived. I told him where I live and where I’d recently moved from. He commented about how I’ve lived in the back end of Hoboken for the most part. I told him I care more about what was inside my apartment than where I lived location wise.

He asked what gym I go to, and I told him. I told him my reservations about NYSC based on the stories N told me, as well as many of even my straight friends. He told me how he felt the same way, and because of this, he goes to Club H.

When I was detailing the sketchiness I knew about NYSC, he became more curious. He asked what my ex told me went down there. I told him he told me guys rub and tug in the steam room. I told him my ex told me about participating once before he met me. An older gentleman walked over to him and lifted off his towel, exposing him. He then proceeded to blow him. I was shocked by this because anyone could walk in at any time. He told me he was never able to stretch in there because guys were constantly dropping their towels at him and propositioning him.

He then started asking a lot of questions about my ex. He asked why we broke up. I told him about catching him flirting with other guys on Grindr and sending naked pictures of himself to other guys “he was just messaging to be friends with.” He asked if I had a picture of him, so I looked through my phone and sent it. I felt a little guilty, but then again I didn’t. N certainly didn’t show me the respect I deserved, so why should I give him respect in return. Besides, I wasn’t really doing anything wrong. I was only telling the truth, and the picture I sent was fully clothed. At this point, I still wasn’t sure he wasn’t N pretending to be someone else to pump me for information, but like I said, I wasn’t saying anything untrue. I was being honest and civilized about it.

“No offense, but he’s not very good looking,” he added. I smiled from ear to ear. “Like my apartments, I choose my men based more on what’s on the inside,” I told him. I chuckled in my mind and out-loud because N always thought he was an adonis. He was decently attractive, but not enough to warrant his ego. He went on to insult his looks further. At this point, I had a feeling it wasn’t N or one of his friends.

Then he asked if he was good in bed. I told him I didn’t want to talk about my ex anymore and tried to change the subject. “That means no, haha,” he joked. I said, “Not necessarily. He was new when he met me. I broke him in and showed him the ropes. I put in all the legwork for his current boyfriend.” “How do you feel about that? Does that make you mad?” he asked. I told him I didn’t care anymore. It wasn’t my concern, and we weren’t exactly friends anymore. I told him how I’d put in the effort to continue to be his friend, but I couldn’t be bothered anymore. When he asked why we’re barely friends, I told him about how N never put in any effort toward friendship unless there was something in it for him. “He’s too conceited, that’s why,” I added.

At this point, I was a little suspect this guy was the one who was impersonating N on Grindr. It seemed he knew something or was pumping me for information, because every time I would try to change the subject, he would circle back. Once again, I just answered all the questions I was asked honestly. I asked him to send me pictures, which he did. I’d never seen him before. I started to ask him what brought him to Grindr, and I immediately was blocked by him. It was a very unusual turn of events. I was highly annoyed, but there was nothing I could do about it. I shrugged it off, and went on with my day.

I knew this wasn’t the end of it. I knew there would be some hell to pay, but I was ready for it. That, and I DIDN’T CARE! Screw him. He wasn’t adding any value to my life. He was one of the exs I no longer needed to concern myself with.

Of course, while traveling for business the next day, I received a text from N: “Hey bud… So this is going to be random. But you never spoke to anyone about me on Grindr recently have you?” Yup. I was right. It was someone pumping me for information so they could run back to him with it in some fashion.

I decided this wasn’t worth my time. I didn’t respond. I just laughed out loud to myself and put my phone away. It was my turn to talk to other guys on Grindr.

I told all my friends about what happened, and they loved it. They have not been a fan of his since they learned all the sh*t he was pulling behind my back. He was useless dead weight in my life, and it was time to cut him free. I no longer needed that baggage. He proved he didn’t care enough to keep me a part of his life. I was going to spend more time concentrating on my good friends and new lovers. I was done living in the past.

That night, I texted the southern guy to see when we were actually going to get together. We’d had two great hour long phone conversations. I was looking forward to meeting him in person. I asked what he was up to the following night, and he responded back, “Yeah… I have a date, LOL.” I was p*ssed. He had a lot of nerve. He knew I was interested. I made that clear. It was incredibly rude to respond in that way. What was laugh out loud worthy of that!? I didn’t want to give him the benefit of an angry response, so I just said, “Enjoy. I take it you’ve lost interest then?”

“No, I just met someone last week at work (since I barely have a life outside of it) and we’ve had a few dates. Seeing where it’s going. We haven’t even kissed yet,” he detailed. “Not gonna lie. I’m pretty disappointed. Been trying to meet up with you for weeks. Nothing I can do about it though,” I told him. I was hurt, but I wanted to be honest. He tried consoling me by saying: “I’m sorry. It just happened. It doesn’t mean we can’t grab a drink. I just want to be completely up front. The opposite of the guys up here who are dating and f*cking 7 people at a time.” I wasn’t going to play this game. “Well my friend, the ball is in your court. You know how to reach me if you’re ever up for that drink…” I was done chasing men who showed no interest in dating me. I had better things to do with my time.

I also made a new rule. I was no longer going to try to date flakes who worked at Ralph Lauren. This was the fourth guy who worked there who burned me. I know this sounds petty, but I wasn’t about to let it happen again…

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