I fucked up. In a big way. I hooked up with a coworker, gave him false hope, crushed his soul, hooked up with him again, refused to even go on a date with him, then crushed his soul again. And we still sit next to each other eight hours a day, five days a week.
Do I have feelings for this guy or am I holding myself back from meeting someone better? If I’m questioning it so much does that mean it’s not right? Or am I just not giving it a chance? Do I actually like the guy or do I just like having a boy to talk to?
I had a couple of stray boys cluttering my inbox like those Bed Bath and Beyond coupons you can’t bring yourself to delete just in case you need to by a handheld steamer.
John looked very nice on paper. Three years older than me, brown hair, green eyes, played soccer, great job, Barbour jacket, nice upbringing, a classy needlepoint belt, blah blah blah blah. I can’t say I was expecting blood and cocaine to be part of the first date, yet here we are.
To the girl not getting her hopes up, the guy avoiding his dating apps to not give girls the wrong idea, and everyone in between… I’m with you.
When guys’ dating profiles outline what kind of girl they’re looking for.
I find myself scrutinizing his texts like he’s the sphinx and I have to pass the riddle to get by. He holds my hand then tells me he can’t hang out this week.