Remember the man who I slept with in July who called me after seven months of no communication to ask if he could give my contact information to his friend studying to be a nurse?
After that initial phone call, he asked me to hang out a few days later. I couldn't that night, but I appreciated the effort. I thought he was a cool guy and while he made it clear that he wasn't interested in dating, I am always open to making new friends and building connections. We tried to make plans for another evening, but they fell through. Several weeks passed and I had a free evening, so I asked him if he wanted to catch up.
He suggested that we watch a movie at his place, which I thought was a little date-y for a man who specifically told me he did not want to date me, but I went with the suggestion. I showed up and was shocked when I saw him. He started a vegan diet about five months ago, lost at least twenty to thirty pounds, and DAMN he looked good. I told him so. He said the same about me.
We watched a movie together sitting on our own separate sections of his couch. I was having a good time and didn't feel like it was awkward at all until his arm came around my side and pulled me in to cuddle. I figured that cuddling never hurt anyone. Isn't that what all men in their twenties want? Just to cuddle with a woman? I could do that.
He laid down on his couch and brought me with him so we were spooning watching the movie, his hand caressing my abdomen. Maybe he just wants the reassurance of physical contact? The intimacy of touch? My mind was racing trying to justify the actions of a man who told me he wasn't interested after our last encounter. He started kissing my neck and earlobe and then it hit me: Men in their twenties do not just want to cuddle. They want sex.
I turned around to face him and said I was confused. "You told me that you didn't want to see me again after we went out last time, and now you're kissing me. Has it just been a really long time since you had sex?"
He laughed. "No R______, I never told you I didn't want to see you again. I told you I didn't want to DATE you. But I didn't want to date anyone at that point in my life... And I don't have anything against interracial dating in general, but I don't want to date White women."
He is Black. Everyone has a dealbreaker.
It would have been reasonable for me to be offended, having just been told that my race and gender make me good enough for fucking but undateable. But I respond well to honesty, so instead of saying "That's really sexist and I can't believe that you have a master's degree in social work but you think it's okay to objectify women for your own sexual gratification," I hooked up with him instead.
In the end, I offered to set him up with my non-White friend who I think he would get along with. He returned the favor and said he knows a single man I might want to meet.
We're looking out for each other.
After that initial phone call, he asked me to hang out a few days later. I couldn't that night, but I appreciated the effort. I thought he was a cool guy and while he made it clear that he wasn't interested in dating, I am always open to making new friends and building connections. We tried to make plans for another evening, but they fell through. Several weeks passed and I had a free evening, so I asked him if he wanted to catch up.
He suggested that we watch a movie at his place, which I thought was a little date-y for a man who specifically told me he did not want to date me, but I went with the suggestion. I showed up and was shocked when I saw him. He started a vegan diet about five months ago, lost at least twenty to thirty pounds, and DAMN he looked good. I told him so. He said the same about me.
We watched a movie together sitting on our own separate sections of his couch. I was having a good time and didn't feel like it was awkward at all until his arm came around my side and pulled me in to cuddle. I figured that cuddling never hurt anyone. Isn't that what all men in their twenties want? Just to cuddle with a woman? I could do that.
He laid down on his couch and brought me with him so we were spooning watching the movie, his hand caressing my abdomen. Maybe he just wants the reassurance of physical contact? The intimacy of touch? My mind was racing trying to justify the actions of a man who told me he wasn't interested after our last encounter. He started kissing my neck and earlobe and then it hit me: Men in their twenties do not just want to cuddle. They want sex.
I turned around to face him and said I was confused. "You told me that you didn't want to see me again after we went out last time, and now you're kissing me. Has it just been a really long time since you had sex?"
He laughed. "No R______, I never told you I didn't want to see you again. I told you I didn't want to DATE you. But I didn't want to date anyone at that point in my life... And I don't have anything against interracial dating in general, but I don't want to date White women."
He is Black. Everyone has a dealbreaker.
It would have been reasonable for me to be offended, having just been told that my race and gender make me good enough for fucking but undateable. But I respond well to honesty, so instead of saying "That's really sexist and I can't believe that you have a master's degree in social work but you think it's okay to objectify women for your own sexual gratification," I hooked up with him instead.
In the end, I offered to set him up with my non-White friend who I think he would get along with. He returned the favor and said he knows a single man I might want to meet.
We're looking out for each other.
No comments:
Post a Comment