Don’t Go There: Why Not Me?

Apr 9, 2015 by

“Take a lover who looks at you like maybe you are magic.”

– Frida Kahlo


          Can we real-talk for a moment, friends? Over the past month, I’ve wondered if I’ve lapsed. Perhaps you’ve wondered the same, given my increase in writing about a guy I’m supposed to be moving on from. I assure you that I’ve already lectured myself for going from infrequently to frequently talking about him again. But after a month of self-scolding, I’m accepting relapse as part of the moving-on process. I bumped into a memory last month, and memories have emotional repercussions.

          “I think some people will always mean something, no matter how long it’s been,” a happily married friend of mine said as she searched Facebook for a picture of a guy she once knew. “He’s my guy that got away,” she said, turning her phone toward me. “I just couldn’t get him.”

          “I have one of those,” I smirked. “Did you date him?”

          “No,” she shrugged. “We slept together every weekend for three years.”

          “Without feelings?” I asked, doubting that three years of weekly sex could be completely meaningless.

          “Oh, I was in love with him!” she responded with comical honesty.

          “Did you tell him you wanted to date him?”

          She did, and they went out a few times because of it, but apparently he wasn’t the dating type. They stopped sleeping together when she met her next boyfriend. He went on to date the woman he later married.

          “Asshole. What was it that she was willing to give him that I couldn’t give?” my friend wondered aloud.

          Ugh, the worst question you can ask yourself when someone doesn’t want you: Why not me?

          “So getting married doesn’t make that question go away?” I joked.

          “I’m married!” she shrieked, reiterating my point. “Isn’t that terrible?”

          She and I were interrupted before I could respond, but no. I’ve had enough coupled and married friends admit to thinking about other people from time to time to know that it’s normal.

          As for that question . . .

          That question just leads to more questions, none of which yield answers, but all of which lead to self-doubt. I’d like to say that I’ve given up asking myself that question, but that would make me full of shit. I still wonder: What was it about me that was attractive but not worth the effort?

          Don’t ask yourself that. I don’t want to be asking myself that. I want someone who puts forth as much effort as I do. I want someone who charms me. After walking the fine line between going after what I want and chasing, honestly, I want to be chased. Not for the sake of playing some stupid game of hard-to-get. I hate hard-to-get. I’m a flirt, and a shameless one at that. I want to be chased because I want to be clear of a guy’s intentions. I want to know with utmost confidence that I’m viewed as a challenge worth conquering, not a 3-am backup plan. As per Frida Kahlo’s advice, I want someone who looks at me like I’m goddamn magic.

          I think you do too.

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