The story is mine. The song is by Bright Eyes/Conor Oberst. (Scroll Down, Press Play.)
In 2007/8, I casually dated a girl from my hometown who I'll call Michelle. We were on-again, off-again, meaning we went on movie dates and kissed
goodnight, but we weren't committed romantically and we didn't have sex (at least not then.) At times she seemed happy to see me, but then other times
would seem unsure about herself, what we were, etc. Not having many friends in my hometown, I likened her to the girl next door (she lived around the
corner) and fold her it was nice to have someone in my hometown (aside from family) to spend time with, a flower in the desert so to speak. I wasn't
in love with her and didn't pretend to be, but I wanted her to feel special to me because she was. So I split the difference, telling her that "My
life is better because you're a part of it." We went to different colleges and fell out of touch, occasionally chatting online but with a casual,
In the fall of 2010, I happened to run into Michelle while walking with my girlfriend in Rittenhouse Square. I introduced them, and Michelle
introduced me to her new boyfriend. Though my girlfriend and I lived in Philadelphia, both Michelle and her boyfriend were tourists, so it seemed a
happy coincidence that we should run into each other. We were both dating someone and there was no awkwardness (that I could sense anyway.) The
playing field was balanced; Michelle seemed happy with her relationship, and I was with mine.
Flash forward to December 2012. I was single again, and so was Michelle. So when we ran into each other on the street again, it seemed like more than
a coincidence. Furthermore, she was living in Philadelphia with her sister now, and was more than eager to accept my offer for a date. It was nice
because we already knew each other but it was fresh at the same time. I felt like I could be myself around her, and we could make off-color jokes
without worrying about making a bad impression. Our friendship was there, and as I would soon find out, Michelle had really come into her own in terms
of her sexuality. To put it bluntly, she'd become a nymphomaniac. Giggity for both of us. I don't ask things like "was it good for you?", instead I
figured from her response that it was and then some. I was content to be friends with benefits, or more if she wanted. I'm not crazy about labels, but
it seemed that whatever we were was based on a solid foundation of mutual respect and acknowledgement of our human needs.
The next time I saw her, she asked me flirtatiously, "So, what do you wanna do?" Now I'm a red-blooded, straight enough guy, and considering our
previous encounter I thought my intentions would be obvious. But Michelle was playing the game, pretending not to have a clue or needs of her own.
Personally, I despise the fake and superficiality this game often requires. I'm not one to beat around the bush (pun intended, I thank you. )
Considering that we'd already "done it", as well as her casual attitude towards crude humor, I felt no qualms about asking, "Wanna do the nasty?" With
a mortified expression, she responded, "I did until you said that just now."
I've known Michelle for 20 years and I would have never have guessed it would have offended her so much. Michelle is Jewish, and reacted to my words
as if I'd proposed a round of Nazi role-play (not exactly what does it for me.) It was as if it were common sense ingrained in everyone from birth
that You.Just.Don't.Say.That.EVER. Sensing I had deeply offended her, I apologized and she accepted, but offered no explanation as to why she'd
taken such offense. She told me not to worry about it, but it was clear that something had changed, and not for the better.
After that, I was like a stranger. She turned down my future offers for dinner, saying she was busy but without asking for a rain check. I didn't want
to be clingy, so I didn't push it. I can be very empathetic, sometimes worrying too much about hurting other people's feelings. But at the same time,
I found her sudden coldness to be very rude. If I had and then lost interest in a woman, whether via a faded romance or a one-night stand who thought
I wanted more, I would at least have respected her enough to give her an honest explanation. Perhaps I expect too much.
I suppose I should thank Michelle. She did show me a good time after all, and taught me a few things about life. I suppose it's for the best that she
didn't want to see me anymore. After all, sex may be a game to some, but I'd prefer it be a game of Hearts, rather than a game of
edit on 22-3-2013 by johnsequitur1221 because: needed more puzzled faces
Sounds like an average woman that cannot properly link her heart to her ability to communicate. It must be tougher for women to express their
feelings, and i have a way of looking at it. Men operate in straight lines, while women operate in curved lines. A vine can climb a pole by wrapping
itself around it, optimally it would grow in a precise symmetrical fashion, the gap is bridged without a single straight line. A staircase can bridge
the gap between the bottom and top of something with straight lines.... and im just rambling. It's anyone's best guess really.
"Women!" The one word most men say when hearing stories like this...sums up women.
Women are not men. This whole sex with no strings business...its BS, there are always stings...and often it's us just who end up attached....acting
the role of the smitten woman..ironic aint it.
However women are not men...women..including ones on this site...like to believe thy can compete in "logical discussion" with men...and they
can...but only for a while... because sooner or later most women will throw that switch, where they suddenly turn into someone else....someone totally
irrational...and it comes out of the blue...just like your story..they go from logical to irrational at the flip of a switch, and the switch can be
something as simple as the wrong word...or wrong look...or who knows, they don't even know themselves most times... that's women.
If your involved with a woman then you have to accept what you get is what you get.
I don't like to stereotype, but I tend to think of women as more inclined to want to express their feelings and men to hide/stumble over theirs. But
I guess Operation Ivy was right… "All I know is that I don't know nothin'"
I felt no qualms about asking, "Wanna do the nasty?" With a mortified expression, she responded, "I did until you said that just now."
I've known Michelle for 20 years and I would have never have guessed it would have offended her so much.
Then you must not know her as well as you thought you did. Men are too quick to blame women sometimes for things that go wrong. They're flighty, they
don't know what they want, etc........ just because a man can't figure out a woman, that doesn't make it her fault. She's not the one doing the
If it's that hard for you with her, leave it alone. She knows how you feel and you've done everything a man needs to do. If she wants something
more, she'll let you know in person, I'm sure. If she doesn't, she won't. Just don't press the issue anymore. Women like persistence, but not
when it's "stalkerish".
Show indifference. It's a hard card to read so it's an open invitation for them to find out more if they're interested.
OK dude your a bit confused. What you described is not a love story, or at least not generally for some it is exactly the thing there looking for and
therefore "love" as that word can mean any number of things. But anyways what you experienced and what your going on about in this story of yours
is what is known as a prolonged bootycall. You said it yourself aka Michele was a self confessed nymphomaniac, no doubt your not the only friend she
has, and no doubt you both knew that or at least one of you knew that, you just caught her at a time she did not want to be reminded of it, but most
likely you gave her the wrong answer which she did not want to hear depending on the game she was playing in her mind, that or she got bored and
moved on to her other friends.
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