Believe it or not, it’s just me

I have this superpower with men. I make the perfect platonic girl friend.

I can’t tell you how many times it has happened.

I only started figuring people out a few years ago, but once I did, I went to the head of the class. Everyone loves feeling understood and I give that. I can see the child in any man and I can see the potential they hold. There’s an initial phase of trust building. Then a realization that I see them. Then this basking in feeling understood. The trying of new things. Wings spreading. Eaglets flying.

I am a muse.

Sometimes that’s gratifying. Sometimes it’s Jack and it gets annoying because he takes takes takes and everything that comes his way he thinks he deserves and when I stop giving, he takes it the wrong way.

I’ve recognized the stage wherein they catch on and get super enthusiastic about having me in their lives. Profuse gratitude. Giddiness. There was this night with John at his place. He wouldn’t let me sleep because he finally clued in to who I am and he needed to say it all out loud for me to hear. Same with the Israeli. Tyler. Mikey. Travis. Nikola’s there right now (good job Nikola with the gratitude; A+). I can name the guys in Tucson on two hands.

It wears off in friends into stasis. It backfires with guys I have feelings for. Once I show my cards, and they fall in love with the way I see them, I’m not there anymore to be seen or fallen in love with. I don’t give chase. I’m not elusive. And then some very basic, cute, feminine girl comes along to entice this confidence monster I’ve created and they fall head over heels. Every fucking time. Guys say what they want is to be understood when really what they want is to always be a little behind the eight ball.

The concept is called intermittent reinforcement. It’s how people develop gambling addictions.

I could say I don’t want to play or I could learn that part of keeping a relationship fresh and fun is to be full of surprises.

I’ve got zero crushes right now. I have a whole class of boys in this city who hit on me but wouldn’t have the first idea of what to do with me because they can’t even carry a conversation. There’s not even a glimmer of anything resembling a muse.

I’m just over here repeating to myself not to wish bad things upon the Israeli for being an agent of chaos. The next guy I like gets left on read. Let’s see what happens. For your sake as well as mine, pray he shows up soon.

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