I want an actual boyfriend. Someone that actually introduces me to their parents and actually pronounces my last name correctly and actually gives a shit.
I’ve been the pretend-cool girl for far too long. The girl that acts like flirting is casual, kissing is casual, sex is casual. You want to make out with me, but don’t want a relationship with me? That’s okay, because I act like I’m going with the flow even though I’m dying inside.
I’m the girl that will let you do what you want. The girl that doesn’t care that you’re friends with your ex or that you canceled plans after I already shaved. The girl that flirts just enough to keep you interested, but not enough to look clingy.
Well, I don’t want to be that girl anymore.
I don’t want to keep performing this bullshit balance act, trying to walk the fine line between looking adorable and desperate. I’m tired of dressing to make you look at me, rewriting texts to make you laugh at me, holding myself back to make you think highly of me.
Besides, I’m sick of all the mixed signals. The unneeded confusion. I want to be able to log onto Instagram without seeing a notification about you liking my selfie and embarking on a mission to figure out what that double tap really means. I want to be able to hear my phone beep without my heart sinking, because I thought it would be you and then of course it’s not you I’m such an idiot for believing you’d want anything to do with me.
If you don’t want to date me, then cut me out of your life. Don’t comment on my photos. Don’t text me to come over when you’re lonely. Don’t pick and choose when I deserve your attention. I know I act like I’m a stone-cold bitch, but I have a heart and it’s breaking right now.
I can’t keep being told that I’m good enough to flirt with, good enough to sext, good enough to fuck — but not good enough for a text back or a kiss on the forehead.
I don’t have to keep thinking so low of myself and I don’t have to settle for the five layers of dating before becoming official: We’re just talking. We’ve been texting. We’re kind’ve seeing each other. We had sex a few times. I don’t know what we are.
No. I don’t want any of that. I want a boyfriend. Or I want to stay single. I don’t want to be caught in the middle, in relationship limbo.
Because healthy relationships don’t start by pretending you’re a robot — some intellectually superior creature that’s void of emotion. Healthy relationships start from mutual interest. Mutual effort.
From now on, I’m not going to be the only one trying (or trying to look like I’m not trying). I’m going to find someone that takes me out on dates instead of hiding me away in their bedroom. Someone that looks at me with the same enthusiasm when I’m wearing baggy jeans as when I’m naked. Someone that wants a real, official, it’s-only-you-and-me relationship.
If you don’t want to date me, then get the fuck away from me, because I don’t have time for the games anymore. I don’t have time to convince you to commit. I don’t have time to pretend I’m someone else, someone better.
I’m not cool girl. I’m clumsy girl. Awkward girl. Batshit crazy girl. And I need someone that loves me for that.