Despite my low riding jeans, long blonde hair and easy smile, I really did want to go to Harvard rather than sit on the beach, smoke pot and watch him surf.
I didn’t need to be ‘less emotional’. I was only so emotional because he made me secondary to the rest of his life, and I hated feeling that way.
He never believed that I valued a handwritten love letter so much more than a $200 bottle of perfume.
He thought me telling him that he could do better and try harder was me telling him that he wasn’t good enough. All I was trying to do was tell him I loved him so much that I knew how much potential he had.
Always putting me on a pedestal. You can’t get close to someone on a pedestal.
Trying to convince me that make-up sex is the best. It’s not. I’m still mad, and you’re still a dick.
Never understanding why I was with him at all. He consistently insisted that he wasn’t rich, smart, or attractive enough for me, and he was always convinced that I’d replace him with someone better. None of this was true, and I stayed with him–perfectly happy and completely in love–until he left me.
Viewing sex as some horrible chore that I hated. Newsflash: women. like. sex.
He thought my reluctance for monogamy somehow diminished my feelings for him. I have never loved someone more. But growing up with two miserably out-of-love parents has made me wary of serious commitment.
Not being needy doesn’t mean not having needs.
“Misinterpreting my low-maintenance approach to relationships as an excuse to not try. I don’t need a big fancy proclamation or gesture; anything small that shows he cares goes a long way.
My guy friends really were just friends. He didn’t need to feel threatened.
Me asking to spend time with him was not me needing undivided attention. Quality time for me just meant doing things together. Homework, working out, or watching TV—things that we could do by ourselves, but were more fun together.
‘You’re such a bro’ is not a compliment. I am not a bro. I am a woman.
He treated me like I was dumb, probably because I have blonde hair and I’m younger than him. Admittedly, when I met him, I turned into a batch of giggles. But as we got closer he continued to constantly remind me of our disproportional intellect. It wasn’t disproportional—I’m really very smart.
Thinking that I like anal. I don’t.
He thought I was afraid of being alone, but I’m not. I just don’t have as hard a time opening my heart to people as he does.
He didn’t understand that my sarcasm and hard-core nature were coping mechanisms for dealing with alcoholic parents. It takes commitment to explore that and see why it affects your every response and outlook on life.
Assuming I was too smart to be treated romantically. He thought that I’d want him to apologize as a rational adult, not with flowers and platitudes. And I do! But sometimes, I wouldn’t mind flowers.
He thought I was the kind of girl who would want to hear that our relationship was based on my boobs. Does that kind of girl exist?
I was really enthusiastic, free-spirited, and rambunctious at a time when women weren’t supposed to be, and it scared the shit out of him. Guess what babe, I’m 86 and I still got it.