I'm getting ahead of myself.
This entry, like most of them usually are, is about a girl. The difference is that, for a change, I wasn't the only person who had caught feelings. At least that's what I thought.
We'll call this girl "M." I met her online, on Twitter, because she randomly appeared on my page in the middle of some random conversation about strippers back in January (lol). We developed a rapport of sorts because Austin's annual music festival, SXSW, was coming up in March. Little did I know, that we would connect so well over the months that followed.
M and I were on the same page so very often. We joked, we played off each other's conversations, when references were made to pop culture or some public figure or television show or song, she got mine and I got hers. M was also extremely gorgeous. When I met her, I expected her to look a tad bit different - the flash on her camera sometimes made her skin appear lighter than it really was - but she was still extremely gorgeous. I would find out that, like always, there was indeed a catch. M had a boyfriend. And not just a boyfriend, but a guy she'd been with for a while, nearly a year at the time.
Ordinarily, that would have been a red flag. But I enjoyed the conversations that I had with M. We talked damn near daily, but out of respect to their relationship - and perhaps partly because I wanted to tell myself that I was being a "good guy" - I tried not to talk to her very often. But I couldn't resist it. What made it most difficult was when our conversations broached something sexual.
M was very much more open and honest than any young lady I'd met before her. I could tell she was the type to, when she really wanted something, she always got it or found a way to get it. We began to flirt in conversations. And then it got deeper. She called me pet names, like "babe." I shut it down or sidestepped them. Then it got sexual. She admitted on multiple occasions that she wanted to have sex with me. She asked me if I wanted the same. And of course I did. Of course I did. I slipped once and let her know that I did, and that I would want to... if she were single. But she wasn't. So we couldn't.
I remember feeling like I was the dumbest guy in the world. Like, come on. A beautiful girl essentially says that she wants to have sex with you, and that you could get it if you really wanted it. And you shut it
down. Any smarter man would have taken her up on her offer... taken it further than one day of reckless abandon whereby they both admitted what they'd like to do to each other sexually without consequences. But I was dumb.
M and I are maintaining our friendship. But now I'm feeling like a bystander instead of a participant.
On Twitter, I watch as she has conversations and jokes around with other guys. Friends of mine, or rather, "friends" of mine. And I get jealous. Because the deep conversations we used to have - the ones that hinted towards sexual language, the ones where she flirted with me and where she knew what to say to make me feel like the man, like her man... though I wasn't - they're gone. My expectation is that she's worked things out with her man and therefore has no "use" for me to fulfill those needs or wants of being desired. But I'm paranoid behind the fact that any of my "Twitter friends" may have their own kinds of access to M.
It's a frustrating feeling to have, and a worse position to be in. Because some of them might not know her if it weren't for you sharing her tweets. Part of you liked it when she was your little secret, and when everyone else couldn't see how gorgeous and how funny and how witty she was and hence wouldn't be able to be attracted to her. You feel threatened, but there shouldn't be any feeling threatened or feeling jealous because she's not your girl.
But there is.
And now I'm mad at myself for having someone who made me feel wanted and who seemed to share the feelings and moments with me for a change, and letting her go or pushing her away even because I wanted to do "the right thing" and not help her cheat on her man. I find myself so tempted to tell her - as she claimed her boyfriend once told her - to "go talk to those twitter boys" since they're now giving her the attention I gave her, and she seems to giving them hers, as well. And even more, I find myself tempted to channel Sam Smith and send her one of his songs.
"... And they don't have no award for that... Trophies, trophies, trophies... and they ain't got no award for that/ shit don't come with trophies/ ain't no envelopes to open, I just do it 'cause I'm 'sposed to..."
I planned to write this weeks ago, back when I first started thinking that I'd lost her. Every time I thought of this piece, Drake's song "Trophies" played in my head. "Trophies" is an equal parts braggadocios and unselfish song; it's really about Drake saying that he's at point where he deserves everything that comes to him, but everything he's done up to this point, he's done with other people in mind as well. He says that there's no reward (or "award") for doing the unselfish thing.
Applying that to this, when it comes to M, I'm reminded that there isn't a reward for being a nice guy. When you are, you may feel good about yourself, but you're left lonely. Doing the right thing doesn't come with trophies.
This is one of those times when I really, really wish it did. M and I may be just friends from this point, perhaps forever, even when - if I were honest - she broke up with her boyfriend like I lowkey wish she would. And me being in the friend zone, for a change, is all my fault... or at least, I put myself there, not the girl. It sucks.
