For the last half year I have tried to make sex meaningless. I felt as though if I could overcome the emotional aspect I wouldn’t get hurt anymore. But I did, in every sense of the word.
My first date with Mr. MusicMan was okay at best. He started off really negative but I thought it was just because he was tired from working all day. All he did was talk about hating his job, wanting to be a rock star and dreaming about winning the lottery. He was stupidly good-looking so I cut him some slack. At the end of the night he drove me home and kissed me. It’s been a while since a kiss has actually made my heart drop but it happened. Best of all, he messaged me the next morning saying he wanted to see me again!
Our second date took place at his apartment. He wanted to make me dinner – which I basically took as being a booty-call. At first I was hesitant but then I came back to this recurring notion of “why should I care, it’s just sex”. So I went over. The entire night was kind of awkward but I just blamed in on the sexual tension.
After dinner we were hanging out and although I was promised a movie he never turned one on. This just confirmed my belief that this was a booty-call. We ended up making out and it got steamy really quick. Mr. MusicMan was significantly bigger than me and was picking me up with ease. He did all the right moves as picking me up and tossing me on a bed is a sure way into my heart and usually my pants.
Things got intimate VERY quickly and the next thing I knew he was on top of me. This is where things got uncomfortable and quickly made me challenge this perception of sex that I’ve been trying to adopt. Almost immediately he went from being someone who I was super into to someone I was kind of afraid of. I’ve always had problems with intercourse and it’s a huge hit or miss whether or not it will hurt me. Unfortunately, this time it did. But it also didn’t help that he was incredibly rough.
He wanted to change positions every 10 seconds, to the point where I felt like a fucking acrobat. The entire process hurt me immensely and although he asked if I was okay or whether I wanted to stop he never actually slowed down even after I asked him to. The worst part was that I wanted it to stop but felt too uncomfortable to tell him. Here I was having sex with a guy I barely knew – how was I supposed to explain to him that I have a medical condition that clearly had gotten worse and was causing me an excruciating amount of pain? What if he won’t like me or won’t want to see me again?
After the torture was over I went to the washroom. I came back to find him in bed playing guitar – almost like I wasn’t there. I was uncomfortable and unsure as to what to do so I kind of just chilled for a while. We had some very uncomfortable pillow talk where he basically told me I was shallow and cracked a joke about me being a virgin. He also made a comment that he didn’t think I was the “type of girl” to have sex so quickly – leaving me confused and embarrassed feeling like I misread the incredibly clear signs.
At that point I just wanted to get the fuck out of there. I felt disgusting, degraded and worst of all in so much pain I thought I was going to struggle to walk. After asking me to stay the night and rejecting his offer in the kindest way I could (which probably came off really rude) he drove me home and we went our separate ways.
He messaged me that night but then, as it always does, the conversation died and that was the last I heard from him.
This post isn’t about saying he was a shit guy and it’s not about saying sex can’t be casual. All I’m getting at is I think casual sex isn’t my thing. Everything that happened that night was consensual but I didn’t leave his apartment feeling giddy or even satisfied. I left feeling used and abused. Worst of all he had given me indication that we would hang out again, that he wasn’t the type of guy to just sleep with a girl and then throw her to the curb. Although I’m usually careful of these types of comments, I really wanted to believe him. I guess he was at least nice enough to drop me off on my own curb.
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At the point of writing this post (originally) I honestly thought we would never speak again. But the following evening, I was feeling weird about how things were left off so I thought I’d try and ease the weirdness by making a joke. The night before he was convinced he was going to win the Power Ball, so I thought it would be appropriate to open up the conversation by reminding him that he lost:
Maybe I have a shit sense of humour but I’m pretty sure you shouldn’t tell a girl that you don’t intend to see her again the evening after you had sex. Not only was the sex awful but now it was clear this guy was a MAJOR D-BAG.
A few days later I have the good fortune of hearing from him again:
At first I thought introducing a conversation with an emoticon at 12:30am meant I was being booty called. But then I remembered he was in Montreal all weekend so that wouldn’t make sense. As you can see from my side of the conversation I’m hilarious (or at least I think so). Even after receiving a message saying “Missing our horrible sex…” I still tried to crack a joke. Like, sir, do you really have to remind me of how bad the sex was? I was there; I’m well aware you sucked.
That was clearly not the response he was looking for. I’m not sure if he wanted me to comfort him or something but that’s not really the way I normally react to an insult. Try to bring me down and I’m taking you with me.
Dear followers, please feel free to share your thoughts. (1) WTF was the point of this conversation? (2) Did I seem stressed at all in order to warrant being told to “relax”?
I’m starting to think I just attract crazy. I’ll keep you guys posted if I hear anything else from this guy, it’s bound to be post worthy.