How do you get someone to fall in love with you? Do you “like” their Facebook statuses? Not too much, of course, because that would seem desperate. But a little bit, sparingly, so they know that you like the things that come out of their brain. Perhaps you can even leave the occasional comment on their Facebook wall so they remember you, they remember that they should love you.
Do you wear a flattering outfit when you go to meet them for coffee? That way you can remind them that you’re someone worth seeing naked. (It’s all an illusion anyway. How you look naked is completely different from how you look clothed but at that point, a naked body is a naked body. You can always just turn the lights off.) Do I rub your knee unnecessarily like Cosmopolitan once told me to do? Will that turn you on? If you were on the fence about loving me back, would a good knee rub be the thing that pulls you on to my side of the fence?
Do I text you? Do I DM you? Do I tweet @ you? Do I DARE call you? You’ve called me a few times in the past and I remember feeling so shocked and delighted when I saw your name on the screen. I thought to myself, “This man has balls! He must really like me!” And you do. You do like me. That I know for certain. But I’m not interested in just “like.” I’m interested in getting you to love me. I’m interested in breaking through to you and making you realize that I’m the one you want. I’m the missing puzzle piece.
There are so many games you can play. Just thinking about the self-imposed rules of dating in our generation is enough to make me weep. Can’t I just go up to you and be like, “Hi. I really like you. I feel like I could possibly love you. Do you feel similarly? Blink once for yes and twice for no.” Wouldn’t it be so much faster if I cut the crap and just spoke the truth? Why do I have to let my phone and the internet and the advice from my friends dictate the pace? If I texted you four times in one day, would that really be such an error that you would be turned off of me forever? Is this how fickle our feelings have become for one another, where one false move could be enough to end something that’s potentially great?
I guess it is.
So fine. I will do the right things, wear nice clothes, and say the correct words. And then when I get you, I’ll deflate and show you the real me. Gotcha! Now I’m going to text you with reckless abandon. I’m not going to give a sh-t about rubbing your damn knee. I’m going to don sweatpants. YOU WILL SEE MY ASS IN SWEATPANTS. WHAT A GIFT! Because you’re mine now and I’m yours and I can stop worrying every single second of every day whether or not I’m ever going to have you.
For the record, I don’t care if you call or text me. I won’t dock you points for using emoticons or telling me that your favorite band is The Fray. Why would I care? I’m not falling in love with your texting skills or music tastes. I’m falling in love with YOU. Only you. So you don’t have to play games (please don’t actually).
Be kind. Be open-minded. Give me a chance. Give me your love.