I’m getting old and my teenage crush moments are few and far between these days, and that’s the explanation I’m giving for writing what is probably going to be a pathetic excuse for a blog post. In advance, soz.
I met a boy. We’ve been speaking for a while, after meeting on Plenty of Fish, and I’ve decided to call him One Ball. Why? Because he’s only got one ball. He was born that way, apparently, and he’s quite forward when it comes to talking about it. he’s quite forward when it comes to talking about a lot of things, actually. I know that he has three kids, one ex-wife, and is about to end his military career. It’s a shame; you know how much I love those soldier boys.
He’s been asking me to go on a date with him for a while, but I kept putting it off. I got the impression that my free passes were running out, though, so I agreed to meet him for a quick coffee date. I couldn’t put my finger on why I kept putting it off and he seemed really nice. I came up with a story, something about being on antibiotics, to ensure I could leave early if I wanted to (and also not drink), and dropped in some ‘maybe’ plans with my sister just in case I needed an emergency escape plan. And then I went on the date.
At first, I wasn’t sure I was all that into him, physically. Is he good looking? I’m not sure. I mean, he’s not a bad looking bloke, but I’m not sure he’s the kind of man that I’m attracted to. He’s also from the same town that I’m from, and I can’t stand the accent. His grates on me no end, as does the fact that he has kids. I’m not exactly a kid-friendly person. I’m not interested in hearing about them all that much. And his spelling is atrocious. Not that spelling is important when you meet someone you really connect with (or at least, it isn’t for me), but it is a thing that’s bugging me.
Once the coffee date was in full flow, though, things changed a bit. I started to quite like him. His jokes made me laugh and our conversation flowed easily. I was in stitches for a lot of the time we were together, and it seemed that we could talk about anything and everything. We have a lot of similar background experiences, especially with that hometown connection, and there was a lot of stuff we had in common. Because of that (I think), I found him more and more attractive as the date went on. I’m not normally a fan of blondes but I couldn’t wait to run my fingers through his hair, and he’s also fairly short. I’m not bothered about height, but I couldn’t have worn some of my tallest heels without towering over him. I did like his style, though. Jeans and a hoodie, black DC trainers, light and breezy.
We drank our coffees and talked the time away, and then because I didn’t want to run away from the date as I’d previously expected, we got more coffees and walked the time away. I enjoyed talking to him. We’re still talking now, digitally rather than face-to-face, obviously, but still, the conversation has continued. It felt natural. It feels natural. I didn’t feel like I had to pretend I was something I wasn’t. I was just … me.
When it started to get dark and a little chilly, he walked me to the train station. I was so sure he’d lean in and give me the kiss. I was ready for it. Braced. Excitedly waiting … and then it didn’t happen. We hugged and he cheek-kissed me. He fucking cheek-kissed me. He also looked rather uncomfortable as he did it. It fucked me up for the entire journey home. Did I misread everything? All the signs? Was it inappropriate of me to expect a kiss? Is he not a first date kinda guy? Oh my gosh … maybe he just doesn’t like me!
I didn’t check my phone for the entire duration of my journey home, not ready to cope with the “thanks, but no second date, please” text that I was so sure would come, but he didn’t send me that. Once I’d arrived at home and made myself a cup of tea, I finally checked to see if he’d text me — and he had:
“Sorry about the awkward kiss/cuddle thing. I’m not very good at that.”
Does that mean he DOES like me? I’m so confused.
One Ball has something that I can’t quite put my finger on, but I quite like. I really like him, actually. I’m disappointed that he didn’t kiss me, and every time my phone pings, my face breaks into such a beaming smile that everyone around me asks who I’m talking to. He has the power to brighten up a really shitty day, even with a simple text. Which is good as I’ve had a few shitty days …
– The Guy I Couldn’t Get Rid Of
I can’t believe this guy is still texting me, but he is. And he’s a crazy fucking lunatic. Just yesterday, I received endless messages from him, begging him to give him a second chance, take him back, tell him what to do so that he can do it and put things right. I didn’t crack. I thought about it, about seeing him to give him the benefit of the doubt, but I didn’t. And I’m glad I didn’t because it wasn’t long before he was suggested that we become fuck buddies. I responded by telling him that HE couldn’t just be fuck buddies with me and I didn’t think it was a good idea, and to say that he lost it would be an understatement.
“That girl I told you about the other day? She just left my bed.”
I knew it was just a desperate bid to make me jealous, of course. That’s why he used her to make me angry and jealous the other day, but the way he spoke about her, as though she was nothing more than something to be used and disposed of to get revenge, really made me almost lose my mind. He described to me how he was “gagging” for sex now that I wasn’t giving it to him, and that’s why he had no choice but to use her for sex. He even said those words. And then he told me that sex was all he really wanted from me.
I tried not to react. I didn’t react. I ignored a few of his messages, told him not to talk to me in a few others, but then he went one step further and sent me a screenshot of the conversation he’d had with the girl he’d used for sex. A text-sex conversation. What is he on? Seriously, why did he do that? I responded one final time:
“Please don’t text me again. Ever.”
And I blocked him on WhatsApp. He sent me a text message so then I blocked him there too. And then he sent me a message on Facebook, so I headed right on over and blocked him there. And then he sent me another message on Plenty of Fish, so I did the same thing and hit the block button. There were a few more messages on Instagram, and a couple of voicemail, apology after apology for all the things he’d just said, but I deleted them and didn’t respond. I think he might be actually crazy. Like, proper crazy. I’m finished with the asshole.
– My Mr. Grey
And that brings me nicely to another man I’m finished with … for now, at least. I’ve decided to put My Mr. Grey on the back burner because he can’t answer a straight question with a simple response. I’m tired of waiting around for him to make up his mind. Does he love me? Does he really mean all of those things he keeps saying to me? He might be shy, nervous, worried about our future, whatever, but that’s no excuse for not answering my questions. All I want is to know how he feels so I can plan and act accordingly. I deserve more – better – than to be an “I’ve gotta think about this” kinda girl. We’ve been friends, fuck buddies, almost lovers for so long, he should know by now whether or not he thinks I’m relationship material. And the fact that he isn’t just saying yes gives me all the answers I need.
But it’s okay, because I’ve got One Ball — my newest crush, and I’m probably going to want to talk about him some more (a lot more) at some point. I’ve been trying to gently nudge the conversation towards the direction of sex to get a sense of whether or not we’d be compatible in the bedroom, but so far, he’s been the perfect gentleman and not given anything away. I know it’s early days. We’ve only met the once, and I’d probably be quite annoyed if a guy pushed the topic of sex on me at an earlier point than I was ready for, so I’m giving myself a shake and calming myself down.
But oh my gosh, I think I like him so much, you guys!