Relax baby. At least this isn’t a real infant.
Much like an actual human baby, the true intent and desires of a new crush are often difficult to ascertain during the infancy of infatuation. No matter how evolved our communicative capabilities or how socially and sexually experienced we have become, the same irrational fears always seem to flutter in:
OMG, I’m saying too much. I’m SMOTHERING him. I’m totally – No! No, actually, I’m not saying enough…probably.
How is he going to know that I like him? He’s not! How could he? I bet that’s why he hasn’t replied to the message I sent FIVE hours ago.
I’d better text him again. I should text him again. Should I text him again?
“AACK!” we – who, like Liz Lemon, tend to channel the protagonist in Cathy Guisewite’s namesake comic strip – ultimately cry in frustration. “What – do I DO?!”
Well, my compatriots in the pursuit of love, first we must CALM THE FUCK DOWN. Alright? Okay. Next, pour a drink if we need to, but step away from the chocolate. Got it? Good.
Now let’s take a few sips of what we know to be true, thus far:
We spent the night of our first date at his apartment, where, for the hour and a half we actually did sleep together, the curves of our naked bodies were soldered to his like two spoons in an avant-garde art installation.
Then, as he was showing us out the door the next morning, we dropped, fully-clothed, to our knees, yanking down his pants and sucking his dick for a fourth time. And what was it that he groaned in response?
“That mouth is so fucking hot.”
Mmmhmm.
That same day we sent him a text saying that we had a “very good time” and he responded in kind with an additional, “ur fun.”
Finally, although he has had to turn down all subsequent invitations, his RSVPs were tinged with veritable disappointment AND he followed the second regrettable denial with the most chivalrous of 21st century gestures: a phone call.
A real-time, voice-to-mother fuckin’-voice PHONE CALL!
Sure…the point of the exchange was for him to tell us that while he would like to “continue hanging out,” presently, he needs to direct most of his focus inward.
Obviously, that’s cause for a bit of a frown and some scuffing of the ground with the big toe on our dominant foot. But we can, nay, we have to respect that, because we’ve been there, too.
Where we haven’t been, however, is here, in the now, experiencing mutual lust and respect from the outset. THE OUTSET!
True, this man my not be wholly available, presently. And yes, most of our friends will likely be hesitant to condone the idea of entering into a non-exclusive…uh…whatever this is, with the hope that it will grow into a committed relationship bound by true love.
But, fuck it. This crush ain’t a real baby. The Department of Children and Family Services isn’t going to show up at the door of our bungalow if it all becomes too much for our psyche and we suddenly decide to ignore its demands for attention and leave it out back to die.
No. Worst case scenario: we spend a few weeks feeling like such shit that we wish someone would come along and change our diapers so we don’t have to get out of bed and move on from yet another failed attempt at intimacy.
And even then, we will bounce back. We always do.
Therefore, let’s not throw the booty out with the bathwater. Exploring his brain would be a true thrill, but at the very least we want to allow our tongues a few more opportunities to take stock of his rock hard surface.
In the meantime –
We would be equally remiss to forget that two can screw other people when there are no strings attached. So let us relax, text him when we feel like it, and text whomever else we would like to get felt up by when he’s busy!
