6:40 PM |
Why are text relationships so mystifying?
I was attempting to ferret out some information/advice about the attachment one can feel even if actual face time is limited (how on earth do you Google that?) when I stumbled on a site that gave tips for men about creating interest through text. And you know what? One of the pieces of advice was...well, I don't even remember. I just saw a list of suggested messages. One of them is "Cupcake, my dog did the funniest thing."
Bells, alarms, whistles, amusement. My almost-real imaginary boyfriend sent me a text early on in our flirtation to the effect of "Cupcake, my dog is a ninja." Ah-ha. I am understanding more and more that he is no more knowledgable about what to do in our situation than I am. It's almost comical, but I am losing patience with the indefinite elapsed time until we actually talk, actually touch, actually... well, you know.
I have developed a knee-jerk reaction to hearing from him (even, or especially, by text). Even thinking of him. I am dumbfounded by the physical manifestation of my desire.
I send him a text that I think I've found a car. He texts back right away. I can't get him to reply to any other subject. He texts back that he'll put a list together for me when he gets home.
Me: You're too sweet
Him: You should have a taste
Me: Don't go there
I have been having a difficult time all day
I'm like a frickin Pavlov's dog
He's engaging with me for the first time and I tell him not to go there. Or maybe not the first time. After the birthday incident, we inched around the subject. On Thanksgiving, we had the naughty chef. I told him it would be a quicky. When he inserted his thoughts, I broke it off, saying that's for dessert.
Usually I provide the details and he reads. I'm getting really good at sexual imagery. I can be a real whore by text. Funny, they are my fantasies, and I find that he is pleased with the story regardless.
I once read that women shouldn't worry about how they look because men are happy just to see them naked. Maybe he's just happy to think I'm naked. I think about him naked. I wonder what he'll be like naked. Will it be anything like the guy in my mind? Not like, size or anything. That doesn't matter. It's the intimacy that I get visually.
I need to be so gentle with him, so considered. I need the physical, the real life physical. I want him to read what I write here, but I don't. It's so raw, so tenuous that I would be afraid that he would disappear.
I was attempting to ferret out some information/advice about the attachment one can feel even if actual face time is limited (how on earth do you Google that?) when I stumbled on a site that gave tips for men about creating interest through text. And you know what? One of the pieces of advice was...well, I don't even remember. I just saw a list of suggested messages. One of them is "Cupcake, my dog did the funniest thing."
Bells, alarms, whistles, amusement. My almost-real imaginary boyfriend sent me a text early on in our flirtation to the effect of "Cupcake, my dog is a ninja." Ah-ha. I am understanding more and more that he is no more knowledgable about what to do in our situation than I am. It's almost comical, but I am losing patience with the indefinite elapsed time until we actually talk, actually touch, actually... well, you know.
I have developed a knee-jerk reaction to hearing from him (even, or especially, by text). Even thinking of him. I am dumbfounded by the physical manifestation of my desire.
I send him a text that I think I've found a car. He texts back right away. I can't get him to reply to any other subject. He texts back that he'll put a list together for me when he gets home.
Me: You're too sweet
Him: You should have a taste
Me: Don't go there
I have been having a difficult time all day
I'm like a frickin Pavlov's dog
He's engaging with me for the first time and I tell him not to go there. Or maybe not the first time. After the birthday incident, we inched around the subject. On Thanksgiving, we had the naughty chef. I told him it would be a quicky. When he inserted his thoughts, I broke it off, saying that's for dessert.
Usually I provide the details and he reads. I'm getting really good at sexual imagery. I can be a real whore by text. Funny, they are my fantasies, and I find that he is pleased with the story regardless.
I once read that women shouldn't worry about how they look because men are happy just to see them naked. Maybe he's just happy to think I'm naked. I think about him naked. I wonder what he'll be like naked. Will it be anything like the guy in my mind? Not like, size or anything. That doesn't matter. It's the intimacy that I get visually.
I need to be so gentle with him, so considered. I need the physical, the real life physical. I want him to read what I write here, but I don't. It's so raw, so tenuous that I would be afraid that he would disappear.