Wrong Text, Right Love

by Claudia Burgoa

  “Is there even an explanation of what that means?”

  “Well, according to Dad, in most cultures men like to feel like they can provide and be helpful. So, you have to let men change a lightbulb once in a while, make them feel like they saved you.”

  “You need saving?”

  “Not me, but men—”

  “We don’t need you to fake that we are useful—and manly,” he protests. “Sure, like every human, men like praise and feel that they can help, but don’t fake it.”

  “Would you fall in love with a woman if she gives you praise often?”

  He arches an eyebrow and crosses his arms. “You mean like giving me treats and telling me good boy?”

  He’s funny, but, right now, he’s definitely hiding behind jokes and sarcasm.

  “You are pretty touchy about falling in love, aren’t you?”

  “Listen, a few words of affirmation are always welcome, but I think that’s in general. Why don’t you switch your theme to how to attract the person you like?”

  “Generalize it?”

  He nods. “For men and women. We both can come up with a list of things we like. What is one thing that would make you think more about a guy?”

  “If it’s the first time we meet, I want to have a good conversation that flows naturally,” I answer.

  “In other words, he has to be a good listener and be smart enough to keep up with you,” he says, grabbing my pad and scribbling on it.

  “The same goes for a man. Just because we are attracted to a woman, it doesn’t mean that we don’t care about having a good conversation,” he confirms and taps on my computer. “We’ll make it the number one rule.”

  “What about the praising?”

  “Compliments,” he corrects me. “Make sure to appreciate any gesture and compliment them, but in moderation. You don’t want to sound like you are kissing ass.”

  “So, do you need to be empowered?”

  He chuckles and shakes his head. “I think that’s overrated. Yeah, it’s good to feel like a king, but it’s even better to treat her like a queen.”

  “How do I word it? Let him treat you like a queen?”

  “No, because that won’t apply to everyone. Add it as, make them feel special,” he begins, finally taking a seat. “Appreciate everything they do for you.”

  “Okay, so first, get to know each other, so you can always have something to talk about,” I type a note. “Rules 2 and 3 will be, treat them well and appreciate what they do for you.”

  “All of them are easy and accurate. Do you need more?” he mumble grunts.

  “Well, I want there to be ten or almost ten. The featured is called, Almost Ten, which means I’ll give them at least nine tips. It’s a quirk for my blog and my podcast.” I say and look at the list. “Dad mentioned to be fun, but honestly, I don’t want to add that as a point of attraction.”

  “Why not? I like fun girls,” he complains.

  “Would you marry one of them?”

  “There’s no woman on earth that’ll make me believe in marriage,” he says, with a blank expression. “You should accept that about me.”

  I snap my fingers. “That’s a perfect point, acceptance. Don’t create a superficial figure out of the person you are falling for. Get to know them deeply and accept them.”

  He stares at me. “You got that from what I just said?”

  “Yep.”

  “I’m scared to learn what’s in that head of yours.” He shakes his head, but there’s a hint of a smile on his lips.

  “Back to the fun part,” he says. “Tweak it, because we need to add it. Let me tell you why. When you date someone, you want to date a person who isn’t all drama. You want to find someone who gives you a sense of adventure, a good time, and also, a person who you can be yourself around when you are with them.”

  I stare at him, open-mouthed. For a guy who claims that superficiality is all he cares about, he is very introspective about relationships. I’m tempted to push my luck and ask him who hurt him or why he stopped dating. I mean, it sounds like the guy has plenty of dating experience, but I choose not to jeopardize this moment. Not only because of the show, but getting to know him isn’t easy. He shields himself from the outside world pretty well.

  “Should they be vulnerable from the beginning?” I ask.

  He narrows his gaze, concentrating on the paper, and then shakes his head. “I guess. That’s not something I could do, but maybe your listeners are open to it since they want to find someone to share their time.”

  “Every relationship should be equal,” I read the next point Dad made. “Meaning, both parties should put in effort.”

  “Sounds like a valid one. Understanding that there are two people in the relationship and not just one should be doing all the work,” he concludes. “And make sure to keep your independence.”

  “What does that mean?” I ask, curiously.

  “Some women lose their self-identity because their lives rotate around their men. They marry and become someone’s wife. Someone’s mom. And they stop being themselves,” he says. “Years later, once they notice they lost themselves, they pack their shit and leave everything behind, without any explanation other than they already gave the best years of their lives to this person and now they have to reclaim their freedom.”

  What he says and the way he says it feels like something so personal that I want to know more. Did he marry young, and she left him?

  “Sounds randomly specific,” I bait him. “Would you like to expand?”

  “Nope.”

  “Okay, then, next point … believe in each other.”

  “Self-explanatory, but…” He’s back into grumpy mode, but then he taps the table twice. “Can you believe in someone who you just met?”

  I sigh.

  “Don’t fool yourself,” he says. “It takes time to accomplish that. Is the other person going to stick around long enough to accomplish that?”

  “How about, create a safe environment where you trust each other?”

  He scratches his chin and nods. “Yes, I like that.”

  “Be respectful.”

  “Respect each other,” he agrees.

  “Nurturing.”

  “Like nurturing each other or the relationship?”

  I look at the paper and deduce, “Both.”

  He bobs his head and says, “Okay, I have to agree that your dad’s advice isn’t outdated. You should add spontaneous. Not sure about you, but it’s nice to receive a call, an email, a text, or just an unplanned visit.”

  I give him a knowing grin. Of course my Dad is right. “The guy has lived on this earth a lot longer than the two of us,” I remind him.

  “Plus, he knows about other civilizations,” he adds sarcastically.

  “I doubt your dad has a cooler job than mine,” I argue.

  “My father doesn’t have a job. It wouldn’t be fair to compare them,” he states.

  “Mind if I ask what he does for a living?”

  He shrugs. “Lives off his investments … it’s a long story.”

  Chad looks around and then taps my paper. “What’s next?”

  “Inspire him. We can always switch it to inspire each other.”

  He gives me a noncommittal grumble. I smile and the corner of his lip twitches. I so want to reach out to him and squeeze his hand. Focus on the show, Persy.

  “Are you ready for the last one?” I ask, imitating a drum roll sound. “Be confident.”

  I look at Chad and ask, “Do you like a confident woman?”

  “Never thought about that. Maybe?” He looks a little lost in his own head. When he shakes it, he says, “I think we have found a good compromise on how to keep your significant other interested.”

  I take a deep breath and pause my recording, “I’m not sure if I should be thankful or angry at you for interrupting the show. On the one hand, this is a great list, but on the other … you interrupted me.”

  He shrugs. “Just
don’t say I’m not nice to you.”

  Looking at the time and knowing the calls of the week are about to roll in, I tell him, “I’m going to start taking calls, and the show must go on, you might want to disappear through the forbidden door.”

  He stands up, leans closer to me, but before he is too close, he steps back, turns around, and leaves. I’m not sure what just happened. Was he going to kiss me?

  You wish.

  To be honest, I’m grateful that he interrupted because my listeners are going to love him. He has a hot baritone voice and who doesn’t love to hear relationship advice from a guy’s perspective. I hope he doesn’t mind that I spin my mystery friend into this show—or at least today’s podcast. This inspires me to send an impromptu text to Lang.

  Joy: I was thinking about going skydiving, but instead, I’m working. What are you doing?

  Lang: Working too. Want to have dinner tonight?

  I stare at the phone, my hands shaking. I want to say no, but my fingers want to type yes. Before I can answer either way, the first call arrives, and I have to continue working. There’s a lot I have to record and edit before I can upload today’s podcast.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Joy: I wanted to get back to you on that dinner invitation.

  Lang: For a moment there, I thought you were ghosting me.

  Joy: As I mentioned, I was working, and something urgent came up before I could answer.

  Lang: You are texting just at the right time. I was thinking about grilling a steak. We could have a nice chat over dinner.

  Joy: I prefer to order in. I’m too exhausted to cook.

  Lang: You cook?

  Joy: You only grill?

  Lang: I can do A LOT more in the kitchen.

  Joy: Sounds interesting. Tell me more about your talents. Do you mind getting dirty in the kitchen?

  Lang: I like to get things dirty and clean them. Let me know when you want a taste.

  Joy: Don’t tempt me. I’m a very hungry girl, and a taste is never enough.

  Lang: I’ll share as long as you share with me.

  Joy: Umm…

  Lang: Am I going too fast?

  Joy: I think so. We shouldn’t be sexting.

  Lang: Just when I was about to suggest role playing. You’ll be a hot, dirty librarian, and I’ll be the kinky cop.

  Joy: Would you be cuffing me?

  Lang: I’ll tie you up and torture you, until you confess all your dirty secrets—or your deepest fantasies.

  Joy: Your offer is tempting, but let’s keep this PG before we jump into a full blown Pornhub show.

  Lang: Sorry. Can’t help but wanting you … plus, I had a long day. You’re still single, right?

  Joy: Yes, though I got introduced to an astrologist who can match me with the perfect man, according to my astral chart. I don’t believe him, though.

  Lang: You know how I feel about this whole relationship bullshit.

  Joy: Makes me want to find you someone, but then, we wouldn’t be able to sext.

  Lang: I’m getting mixed signals here.

  Joy: I want to think it’d be fun, but we just met. Are you grilling?

  Lang: No, I decided to nuke some leftovers.

  Joy: I’m heading to my home office, if you don’t mind. There are a few things I couldn’t finish, and they have to be ready for tomorrow morning.

  Lang: Then I’ll do some work, too. You ordered Chinese?

  Joy: I ordered Mediterranean food.

  Lang: What happened to your skydiving adventure?

  Joy: That’s one thing I doubt I’ll ever do. I can make time for almost everything but jumping out of an airplane…

  Joy: Who does that?

  Lang: Adrenaline junkies?

  Joy: I’m not one of those.

  Lang: Or so you say. Dating is just as bad. You secrete almost the same chemicals when you’re jumping out of a plane as when you are having sex.

  Joy: Interesting.

  Joy: You’re telling me you’d rather go skydiving?

  Lang: Why do I have to do either one of them?

  Joy: It’s a simple question, but you can pass.

  Lang: How often do you sext?

  Joy: :grin emoji:

  Lang: That’s not an answer.

  Joy: Then, I’ll pass. How many passes do we each have?

  Lang: Are we making rules?

  Joy: I had a long day, but I’ve been thinking about relationships in general. How, from the beginning, you have to establish what you want from the other person. I’m talking about friendships, working relationships, romantic ones … all of them need to have a foundation. You want to create a trusting atmosphere.

  Lang: Sounds about right, which means, before we can tell each other our darkest secrets, we should know more about the other. Yet, you already know that I’ve never fallen in love.

  Joy: Hmm, did we ruin what could have been a great sexting experience based on a technicality?

  Lang: No, I think we can save it if we forget about my transgression or you tell me your darkest secret.

  Joy: Hmm…

  Lang: Hmm isn’t an answer. Don’t stall.

  Joy: It might be easier to forget what you said. I don’t even remember it.

  Lang: I trust you, but if you ever bring it back, you owe me a confession.

  Joy: I like this deal. How do we create a trusting atmosphere via text—and don’t say sexting?

  Lang: Fuck, I had the perfect sext for you.

  Joy: Really? Does it have to do anything with your kitchen or is it the shower?

  Lang: You don’t like beds?

  Joy: They are great, too. I can work with any surface—as long as you know how to work everything else.

  Lang: Baby, I know all the right moves. Just try me.

  Joy: You are too many steps ahead of the game.

  Lang: I think you can’t dish it and that’s why you’re changing the narrative to a tame atmosphere.

  Joy: Taunting me. Nice move, but it won’t work. You can say I’m some kind of expert in the field…

  Joy: :winks:

  Joy: Be patient and you might see.

  Lang: You can’t blame this guy for trying.

  Joy: Okay, my food is here. Be right back.

  Lang: Hey, are you ghosting me again, or is this some kind of delayed gratification?

  Joy: Sorry to keep you waiting. I had to fix myself a drink.

  Lang: What kind of drink?

  Joy: A smoothie.

  Lang: I’m having a beer.

  Joy: Dad makes the best beer in the world. He promised to make me strawberry beer.

  Lang: That’s random. Why would you want to spoil beer with strawberries?

  Joy: I like fruity drinks. Piña coladas are my favorite.

  Lang: So, therefore you have to ruin beer?

  Joy: :eyeroll:

  Lang: Our first fight. Does this mean we get make up sex?

  Joy: :laughing:

  Lang: You can’t blame this guy for trying.

  Joy: When was the last time you had sex?

  Lang: Wow, that’s a forward question.

  Joy: It’s been six months for me. Not forward, honest. When was the last time you sexted?

  Lang: This is my first time, so be gentle.

  Joy: We are not doing anything today.

  Lang: I’m sorry to break it to you, but if you scroll up, you’ll notice that we already fooled around. And you can’t take that away from me.

  Joy: That’s all you get from me.

  Lang: Go out with me on Saturday.

  Joy: Where would we be going?

  Lang: You go to your favorite place, and I go to my favorite place.

  Joy: And we text while we are there?

  Lang: Yes.

  Joy: I love the idea. You got yourself a date. Should we make it a picnic?

  Lang: That’s too forward. We’re still in the early stages.

  Joy: We are having dinner.

  Lang: It was an impromptu one.
When you plan things, they become … more.

  Joy: More? Interesting.

  Joy: What is this more you speak of?

  Lang: It goes from a casual meal with a potential friend to a romantic scene out of some cheesy movie.

  Joy: Why are guys afraid of commitment?

  Lang: Are you generalizing?

  Joy: No, at least the ones I know prefer to avoid any entanglements.

  Lang: They can get messy.

  Joy: Talking from experience?

  Lang: My parents’ marriage taught me a few things, including not to trust other people with your heart.

  Joy: Relationships can be hard to navigate.

  Lang: I bet your parents have a happy marriage. That’s why you want to have someone.

  Joy: Hah! As if. They had their ups and downs. We heard plenty of fights while growing up, and sometimes, we thought, ‘Why don’t they just end this?’ Their love is stronger than all the problems they’ve had throughout the years.

  Lang: What’s their secret?

  Joy: I’ll go with mutual respect and admiration. I’m sure there’s one more thing, but I refuse to acknowledge it.

  Lang: I bet sex is the only secret. See, if you and I start our relationship with a solid sexting foundation, we might be texting forever.

  Lang: Are you still there?

  Lang: Sorry, it was a joke.

  Lang: You’ve ghosted me on our first non-date—twice.

  Joy: Sorry, I have a work emergency. Let’s chat tomorrow.

  Lang: Anything I can do?

  Lang: I take that long silence as a no. Sweet dreams, Joy.

  Eighteen

  Her

  Friday June 19th

  I’m on my way to my first blind date, set up by none other than my sister, Nyx. I wish she was around because, if things don’t go well, I don’t have my wing girl to save me from this. Since she has been traveling all week, we haven’t had the time to chat about this guy who she swears I’m going to love.

  Fortunately, I am able to catch her on the phone right before I meet Elijah Doherty.

  “Who is he again?” I ask Nyx, as I walk toward 16Th Street Mall.

  “One of my clients,” she answers. “He is handsome, fun, and has a job.”

  “Does he know who I am?” Ugh, that sounds like such a shallow question, but on my dating apps, every guy who knows who I am is asking me if we should meet at his apartment or get a hotel room.