It is a habit of mine to frequently lament things on Twitter and it is probably a habit I should consider breaking, particularly when the consumption of alcohol is involved. But hey, at least it's better than drunk dialling inappropriate people (yet another reason why I have developed a worse habit of deleting men from my phonebook as soon as they annoy me). Although Twitter is more public than a 3am Booty Call. But surely there is some level of privacy in the anonymity of the public, right? (Oh. God.)
In any case, one of my more recent laments was the following statement:
I hate playing games, so why is it that when it comes to men, I feel like I have to? Grumble.
This off the cuff expression of frustration turned out to be quite the conversation starter. Nothing too scary, but it gave me a moment's pause. Especially seeing as upon second glance, I realised I actually sounded like a bit of a bitch.
The context behind this particular Tweet was that I was trying to line up a booty call and it wasn't panning out for me. In short, I felt like I was being toyed with. And you know what that means – 'he's just not that into me'. Which is fine, I just wish he'd had the decency to let me know. Of course, I am able to recognise this behaviour immediately because I, like many others, have perpetrated it myself.
And no, I don't really like that I have. I actually really despise playing games with people. It's totally not how I roll, but what I hate even more is how easily I seem to fall into them. All of a sudden you have all of these feelings about someone (okay, in my case they're usually lusty feelings), and you want them to contact you, you want the fun, cute, witty banter, you want the rush. That buzz that zings through you when your phone beeps or you get a Facebook notification. But all too often this fun little courtship phase is warped by one, or both of you trying to get the upper hand. Or by someone stringing someone else on just to keep the buzz going. It's fun for awhile, and I suppose it gives us plenty to talk about, not too mention offering us a nice little distraction from the daily grind. But after a while, I dunno, it feels a little soul destroying.
It's scary to be honest with people. I get that. That's why I try and make myself do it as often as possible. Also I am a terrible liar. Just terrible. It's when I truly feel my very lapsed Irish Catholic roots – oh, the guilt! This is probably why I dislike playing games so much. I guess the best I can do is keep practicing my honesty. It's hard you know, opening up and making yourself vulnerable to another person. It's not something I have developed a particular knack for (Reason #12 as to Why I'm Still Single). I always figured that for the right person it would be easy. I guess the problem (or the joy, depending on your viewpoint) is that I am currently dealing with Mr Right Now(s), and not Mr Right. And when it comes to Mr Right Now(s), it's all about The Games.
Although, I should note that I have been told I am decidedly too subtle. That I should just name times and places for shags and be done with it. But I don't know, is it really such a bad thing to want to be taken out to the pub first? You know, to have the illusion of romance? I know it's not really romance…
Grah. Love, lust and dating – you vex me so! But give me so much to blog about ….