You know how it is, right, ladies? You know a guy for a while. You hang out with him. You do fun things with him—play video games, watch movies, go hiking, go to concerts. You invite him to your parties. You listen to his problems. You do all this because you think he wants to be your friend.
But then, then comes the fateful moment where you find out that all this time, he’s only seen you as a potential girlfriend. And then if you turn him down, he may never speak to you again. This has happened to me time after time: I hit it off with a guy, and, for all that I’ve been burned in the past, I start to think that this one might actually care about me as a person. And then he asks me on a date.
I tell him how much I enjoy his company, how much I value his friendship. I tell him that I really want to be his friend and to continue hanging out with him and talking about our favorite books or exploring new restaurants or making fun of avant-garde theatre productions. But he rejects me. He doesn’t answer my calls or e-mails; if we’d been making plans to do something before this fateful incident, these plans mysteriously fail to materialize. (This is why I never did get around to seeing the Hunger Games movie. Not to name any names, but thanks a lot, Tom.) Later, when I run into him at social events, our conversations are awkward and lukewarm. This is because the moment we met, he put me in the girlfriend-zone, and now he can’t see me as friend material.
I must say that I find this really unfair. I mean, I’m a nice girl. I have a lot to offer as a friend, like not being a douchebag and stuff. But males just don’t want to be friends with nice girls like me. They can’t help it, I guess; it’s just how they’re wired, biologically. Evolution conditioned our male hominid ancestors to seek nice girls as mates and form friendship bonds only with the other dudes that they hunted mammoths with. It’s true—I know this because I studied hominids in my fifth-grade science class.
So what’s the answer? Should I take up mammoth-hunting in an attempt to appeal to the friendship centers of men’s primal lizardbrains? Should I keep making guy “friends” and then prevent them from making a move on me by subtly undermining their self-confidence? Should I just give up on those manipulative, game-playing, two-faced bastards once and for all? I don’t know. I mean, I’d really like to have a true friendship with a guy someday, but it’s so hard to trust and respect them when they never say what they mean—and you never know when you might be relegated to the girlfriend-zone.
my life is just a collection of poorly made decisions with alternative music playing in the background
It’s midnight now and somewhere in a November
that still exists tonight, we’re kissing each other’s knuckles
for the first time.
I’ve swallowed hearts like apricots
and I’ve watched as the juice of being in love
dripped down my chin and spread like watercolors
across my skin.
— I’ve seen what shades I feel in
when I feel in shades of
I’ve lived through seven seas of heartbreak
but I wouldn’t take any of it back
because on each shoreline I found another reason
to let someone lead me into the waves
with my eyes closed.
Do you remember how raw the night seemed
when we cracked the moon over our teeth and let its
yolk run down our throat?
Salmonella or not,
I loved you then.
It’s April now,
and there are showers, like they promised.
Driving around in the rain today,
someone told me that May would be
But fuck it. I don’t want May flowers.
I only want
“Thinking About The Way You Hold Your Hands Over Flowerbeds,” Shinji Moon (via commovente)