The first thing you need to do is to make him fully believe you’re someone you’re not.
So when he only wants to show you pictures of himself jerking off even though it’s a casual 5 PM and he knows fully well that you’re out with friends, you act like it’s so hot. You “lol” and send perfectly angled selfies in the right light so it catches your highlight in response. You don’t ever say to stop and you make it seem like it’s such a turn on even though the last thing you are is remotely into it.
You slip on this other skin, this mask, entirely. This other version of you. It’s not entirely inaccurate. You do love the attention and it is kind of hot to have someone want you that badly, even when it’s 5 PM on a casual Tuesday. But it’s only a percentage of you. It’s not the whole being. It’s not an accurate representation of you actually are as, you know, a person.
But he doesn’t need to know that.
He doesn’t need to know you’re a person.
So after you make him believe you’re more simplistic, less layered, that you’re entirely one-dimensional and that one dimension is fuck fuck fuck, you completely pull down that mask and maintain it.You don’t force him to see you as anything but this one-dimensional sex object that he wants. You don’t push it. You don’t ask questions. Honestly you don’t ask for anything.
And that’s the key.
You don’t ask for anything. You don’t need anything.
Because remember, you’re not a person. And not-people don’t have people needs.
It’s all about him.
And that’s the next step. You make sure it’s all about him.
And you don’t really consider what that means for you. You’ve become so focused on him, on his need to see you as absolutely nothing other than a place for him to get off, about his complete lack of interest in anything you are and anything you might be, and you forget what it feels like to be desired for anything other than your body. You forget what it feels like to be anything else than a vessel for somebody else’s want.
You forget about yourself for so long it’s not just your need, your wants, your thoughts that you forget. You forget about you.
And so when he’s there, when he shows up, when he’s not just some figment of a fuckboy that hits you up after 11 PM, when you actually have to be a person around him, it hits you like a freight train.
Because you forgot what it means to have to be a person.
You don’t know how to do that, because he’s never seen you as one.
And so it all comes out like a tidal wave. All of your opinions start spilling out uncontrollably and washing over him not stopping for a second to let him get a word in. All of those layers you had hidden so purposefully behind lols and winks in 2 AM texts, behind the perfectly angled selfies and the omgs to 5 PM dick pics are immediately torn apart. You’re no longer perfectly angled, you’re no longer just a container for fantasy, for want, for fuck fuck fuck.
You’re a person again.
Which is the last step. Become a person again.
And well, that wasn’t what he wanted.
So you have half-assed sex and drink too much whiskey and make fun of his inability to spell. The kissing is awkward because you don’t fit together and you sleep with your back turned to him. You hog the pillows in bed and don’t bother putting makeup on in the morning and when you hand him a cup of coffee you can see that he doesn’t even recognize you. You tell him why he’s wrong about things like Harvey Weinstein and rent control and when he asks you if you’d like to day drink and you say no because it’s 9:30 AM so he shrugs and drinks more of your bourbon without asking.
And when he makes some excuse to go and immediately drops off the face of the Earth, you can’t even be really that bothered because you know what happened. The writing on the wall was already there even if you were ignoring it because for a brief minute you liked the attention.
Because it’s all too easy to lose a guy in 10 hours when the guy had no idea who you were to begin with.