I don’t drink coffee. I used to, but found I prefer tea. At least I can sleep with tea. If I’m sleepy during afternoons where I need to study, I take caffeine tablets (100mg) and quarter them with a pill cutter so it’s not so strong. Evidently even roughly 25mg is too much since I couldn’t sleep last night, from 2-3:30am. I tweeted that I couldn’t sleep and the next thing I know, I get a text message from the ever persistent M.
Uhhh….. Alarm bells are going off like crazy. Don’t say I’m adorable! I’m sleepy, dammit! I need sleep for the two long labs and lectures I had today. I replied with a high-five smiley and didn’t reply to his texts.
Why can’t we just be friends?! I swear I’m not leading you on!!!!!!!!!!!
We’re going to have to talk. ARG.
If anyone has read far back enough, you might have seen a post about M, wherein I had no idea how to respond when M said they were in serious like with me.
Ok. We were ok for a while. It wasn’t awkward that I turned M’s affections down, no, because we weren’t in the same city anymore, just the same country. Since the incident, M has flown from Sydney back to our hometown and got international texting.
Now, it must be said: M is very nice. M is also a bit young. Like 19 years old young.
However. HOW. EVER. I have counted 100 texts that I’ve received over 5 days. AUGH!! It’s driving me mental!
I realise that being nice is not truly possible if I wish to maintain my sanity and SPACE! I have given as little of a response as possible, sometimes none at all since theoretically, the less material M has to work with, the less there is to talk about. Alas and alack, hints are steadfastly ignored. M makes do with what little I give.
Ways to decrease M’s attentions:
- Avoidance. I could continue to give as little response as possible. I doubt this will be successful as after 5 days, M remains quite persistent.
- Be blunt. I could say quite plainly, “Go. Away.” Cold, but potentially effective. Like John Lyly wrote in Euphues, “The rules of fair play do not apply in love and war.”
- Diversion. “I’m with someone else.” This could work, but given how determined the texts have been, this line could precipitate a confrontation.
- Play matchmaker for M with someone else. Not a bad idea.
I don’t want to be cruel since I was also so painfully earnest in my crushes when I was that age. Whatever I choose will have to be some compromise, firm but kind in setting boundaries. If I were on the other side, that’s what I’d want.
FYI, 3 more texts in the time it took to write this. GAH.
This is everything I wish I could say out loud to you:
I wish I liked you.
Your stubble gives me goosebumps every time. You want to rim me. You can get things from people. You’re in the arts. You’re my age.
But you’re pushy. You’ve laughed at some of my views. You could chalk it up to incredulity, and I know I am narrow-minded. Even though you’re probably right, P handles those times better.
I also don’t really like your foreskin that much. I thought I would like foreskins. You’re out of shape and you don’t like exercise. You’re starting to bald. You’re shorter than me. You like my lower lip. I suspect we may not be compatible on one key sexual aspect.
Thank you for everything. I shouldn’t have led you on and replied in kind. I’m sorry. I’m just glad I have the option to move to Melbourne and you’ll be in London by June 2013. Please don’t stay in touch. I don’t want to give you hope. I should never have done the thought experiment of where I saw myself in 5 years and beyond.
On October 8, 2012, M told me he really liked me. I said, “Oh shit.” continuously. As in, “Oh. Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit.” and so on.
I deflected it, saying thank you, that it wasn’t practical, and that I wasn’t in a place emotionally where I could have a relationship (though not in so many words).
I couldn’t say, “Sorry, I have a quasi (ersatz?) relationship with the person I lost my virginity to a few days before my birthday. And you’re like a little brother to me.”
Note to self: November 10, 2011. It’s not pathetic that I wrote it down, is it? Nah. Well, maybe it is. Just a bit. Whatever.
I told P and mentioned the little brother thing as my reason. We agreed was difficult, then P related a couple of similar instances. I said I have a thing for redheads, but I’m not going to fuck up the friendship by fucking around.
I feel nothing romantic for M. I won’t lie and say I’m completely averse to messing around, but that would have innumerable consequences. With experience, I think I’ve become significantly more jaded and cynical.