I would be remiss to let yet another Tuesday slip by me without contributing a true story to the blogosphere. Today's tale centers around a subject that I don't address too often on this little page of mine: Boys. Not only am I in a happily committed relationship (meaning a. that BF is the only boy I discuss and b. there really isn't ever any drama in our partnership, or at least nothing blogworthy), but I haven't really dated too much. The male species who have featured most prominently in my years on this earth include:- The Guy's Guy ~ Positively perfect in every way. Truly. He took me on my first date when I was 16 and was the first boy I ever held hands with. He's now gay. I promise I didn't contribute to or influence his sexuality. Much.
- The Teddy Bear ~ Coming off my mortally wounded heart, Teddy was the perfect solace. I have documented our adventures together in a previous post. - The Cowboy ~ His screen name was jdeere16, and he stole my heart. He also played games with it like no one I have ever met. He gave me first real kiss (a little tongue involved... ooooh yeah), then immediately told me he had crushes on my three best friends (he really liked the way Georgia Peach bit her bottom lip and touched her hair) but had zero interest in me because I "wasn't very cuddly." Ummm, hello, Major Self-Esteem Issues?! Besides the fact that I am VERY cuddly... just ask Lobster or Boyfriend.
- The Soldier ~ This was my first serious relationship. We were together for 2.5 years, which spanned my senior year of high school through the end of my sophomore year in college, and it was probably 2 years too many. He's now stationed in Iraq. I could probably fill this entire blog with true stories of this character, his family and our relationship that would keep you up at night. I could write a book detailing how you know when a relationship is kaput (and how to escape with any shreds of self confidence intact):
"If the boy you are dating, who also happens to have a morbidly obese mother, tells you that watching you eat disgusts him... the relationship is probably over."
"If the boy you are dating, who is really only marginally attractive anyway, informs you that on the attractiveness scale, your best friend is 'hot and pretty' while you rate as 'cute'... the relationship is probably over."
- And of course, there's sweet Boyfriend, who I'm realizing needs a much more creative name. Hmmm, that's not the point of this post, but it is something to mull over. He is wonderful and fantastic and amazing and everything I could ask for. Blah blah blah... mush mush mush...
These are really the main men in my life, but I had a brief cameo by one dubbed The Baby Daddy.
Almost a year-and-a-half into our "relationship," The Soldier decided it would be best to lose the exclusivity tag and be able to date other people. As it turned out, I was the only one out of the two of us who ever actually took advantage of the arrangement (Soldier asked out three of my friends, who, naturally, all turned him down... another sign that your relationship is dunzo). Soldier never would agree to end the silly "open relationship," and it led to confusion, hurt, jealousy and all around badness. I really don't recommend this course of action.
About the time that things had reached their breaking point (but still a year before I came to my senses and ended things?), Soldier and his three roommates hosted a foam party at their apartment. As it would seem, the foam party became legendary before it even happened (raging foam machine pouring suds into an apartment? Of course it was a hit). Friends, neighbors and strangers alike flocked from all over to be part of the foam party. As I was trying to escape the foaming masses, my eyes met those of someone I had never met. He was very forward about letting me know he was interested in me (having everything to do with my charming, sparkling personality and nothing whatsoever with my strangely magnetic badonkadonk, I'm sure). Now, I'll pause here to say that this stranger was someone I would never, ever be interested in or attracted to, and was someone who would enrage Soldier were he to observe our communication, so, of course, I latched on.
I learned that my new friend was a member of the NC State football team, was Soldier's neighbor and felt very inappropriate things toward me. At the end of the evening with only those three shreds of information, Friend and I exchanged numbers and said goodnight (he actually suggested other activities, but again, uninterested). We exchanged texts, IMs and the occasional face-to-face conversation for several weeks, which pretty much involved me deflecting tawdry advances. One evening as I was exiting Soldier's abode, I discovered Mr. Feisty escorting his own company out of his apartment, and I happened to notice that she was... erm... with child. I thought it was a strange arrangement, and he was clearly embarrassed to be seen with her, so I just waited and texted him later asking who his companion was.
I received the very suspect answer, "A friend." I pointed out that she was a heavily pregnant friend, and he agreed that she was indeed about to have a child and was someone he'd known from high school. Right. Several days after that, Feisty McFeisterson appeared outside my dorm, kissed me (huh?!) and disappeared. I didn't hear from him for almost a week, which was really no problem in my book, but strange behavior, nonetheless. When he finally re-emerged on the scene I inquired about his absence.
"I'm a dad now."
"Um, you're a dad all of a sudden?"
"Yeah."
"Did your pregnant friend have her baby?"
"Uh huh."
"And, coincidentally, did it happen to be your baby too?"
"Yeah."
"You kissed me randomly."
"If I asked you wouldn't let me, and I was on my way to the hospital."
"Mmmkay. Happy Father's Day! Bye."
~ END SCENE ~
Okay, several lessons can be gleaned from this story and Baby Daddy's behavior:
1. Do not participate in open relationships.
2. Do not try to make your open relationship cohort jealous with someone that you know is so totally not okay for you.
3. Most single guys (particularly college age) don't just happen to be friends with pregnant girls.
4. If expectant fathers are only "friends" with their other parental half, they may or may not kiss-rape* you when they find out the baby is on its way.
5. Expectant fathers are really, really... frisky.
*please do not overanalyze the definition of "kiss-rape." I do not take rape lightly. I am merely using this as a lack-of-other-terminology-definition to describe the actions of a soon-to-be-father, who may or may not become overly amorous without permission or mutual participation upon hearing the news of his bundle of joy's imminent arrival.
