Playing Hot and Cold
He didn’t say goodbye, he just kissed me once at the base of my neck. That was the last time I saw him. He was useless at hello’s, but his goodbye’s had style. I know that now if anyone mentions his name, it will sortly be followed by them laughing. I’ll wince too, because I just can’t help wondering what the hell I was thinking. The boy was a walking disaster area. An annoying, drunken disaster area who played more games with me than I played with him.
I’m nostalgic. A dumb female who, surprisingly, knows when she’s got it good. Which, I suppose, makes it much worse that I’m not happy. And I’ve gotta be dumb to be nostalgic for him. He wasn’t even a fling, just someone who repeatedly hit on me. Though I suppose that those of more cynical natures could point out that he also repeatedly pulled me.
It’s nearly christmas. You’ve got to look back over the year’s mistakes and feel a certain amount of nostalgia. If you don’t then you simply aren’t human. I’m going to have to write a new set of new year’s resolutions that I probably won’t fulfil. Worse, I’ll have to go back and find last year’s resolutions. Then I’ll be both shocked and horrified at the progress I haven’t made. Sometimes it feels like I’m going backwards.
I’m tired. I’ve always been cynical and lonely, but now I’m tired too. Being single is a way of life, it’s so hard just to give up for someone, no matter how fucking fabulous their car is. Maybe I’m just being stupid. I know I’m being stupid about Bench- disaster areas are not attractive. But Mark is perfect in every possible way and I’m acting like a spoilt brat.
The gold digger in me is screaming that I should throw myself at his feet and beg him to shag me. But I’ve obviously not got the heart of a gold digger because I’m acting more hot and cold than a very confused water boiler. I do like him. But I don’t really have the time or energy for a relationship, or even the pursuit of one. With men I’m pretty low maintenance. I don’t need to be taken out all the time and I don’t get jealous if they flirt with other girls. But I’m tactile, I guess I just need to be thrown on my back and told what’s gonna happen next. Men are the hunters and believe me, sometimes I need to be hunted. But other times I need to be the hunter, and with him I sort of felt like I was. Then I got him. And the joy just seems to have disappeared. To make it interesting he has to go after me now.
That’s why I’m nostalgic. I get bored easily and need to be messed around a little, if you don’t play games with me I’m going to play games with you. And if you don’t prolong it then I’ll win, and when that happens my interest disappears.
Labels: Coquetry, Courting, Past tense
