Broken Hearts Damaged Goods

by Gunthridge, Jack

  And I know that I shouldn’t feel this way, but I feel like I disappointed my mother by breaking up with Brittany, like it is somehow my fault that Brittany cheated on me. It’s not like I haven’t thought about the breakup and wondered if I did something wrong that would have caused her to cheat on me.

  Being a guy, I will never tell my mother that I feel like a disappointment. I also won’t tell Liselle the full extent of the rehab that I need. Women can say what they want about guys not listening because we are too busy trying to fix the problem. Women are always too busy trying to fix men to ever hear our problems.

  Oct. 15, 2010

  Jack took me out for a hayride tonight. I don’t know if this was a date or not. We had been going on dates, and then he decided that it would be better if we didn’t date because it would only end up hurting me. Then he went down on me, invited me to a wedding, and stood up for me in front of his parents. So I’m not exactly sure what is going on in his head.

  He is picking things to do with me that are romantic in tone. And he has been very affectionate in bed as well as elsewhere. It’s been a long time since I have felt this way about a guy. Usually a guy will have his hands all over you because he gets off touching you. With Jack, you can tell that he’s not touching me because the boobs just happen to be attached to me. He’s touching me.

  Maybe he was right to not date me anymore because he was afraid of hurting me. We were only sleeping together and being romantic because it was a way for us to keep from hurting somebody else. We were both hurting when we made this agreement. To think of our pain at a moment like that wasn’t exactly possible.

  The rehab part of the plan has worked wonderfully. When I first met him, I had been sleeping with guys on the first or second date. I would even sleep with guys that I brought home from the bar without them even taking me out first. I had forgotten what it felt like to have somebody actually care for me and want to be with me.

  We still haven’t had sex. I think he is afraid to. It’s not because it will be his first time. I think he is afraid that if we have sex that it will be finally closing the door on the Brittany era of his life. She might have slept with somebody else, but he still carries a glimmer of hope that they will get back together.

  I bought a box of condoms the other day and put them in a place where he would see them. He made a comment to me about them. I told him that I just wanted to be prepared in case things started to go in that direction some night. Then I laughingly added that if I didn’t use them with him that I would use them with the next guy that came along.

  He seemed kind of hurt by this, and I regretted it as soon as I said it. I tried to apologize. “I’m sorry. There’s just times when I wonder how long we’re going to last. I mean, we are just using each other. Neither one of us had said that we care about the other.”

  Jack kissed me on the forehead and held me closer to him. “I’m not a stray dog. You don’t have to worry about my owner coming here someday and asking for me back.”

  And he was right. Our former lovers aren’t going to want us back, but that doesn’t mean that we aren’t stray dogs with no owner and no place to go.

  I love him. It would be easier for me to just have sex with him, at least then I wouldn’t care about him and the possibility of losing him. But as it is, I am falling for him more and more each day. I know that he has had his heart broken, but I could love him more than she did.

  Sometimes I think he knows this. There are times that I know that he cares for me. Then there are times that I know that he is thinking about her.

  I’ve thought about telling him how I feel about him, but I think that usually ends up scaring a guy away more than helping a girl out. Guys see it as being too strong and sometimes creepy. I don’t want him to think that I’m some crazy, psycho girl.

  So I can go on loving him and hope that someday he will truly love me in return. I will have to put off these feelings that he won’t be healed in time to love me. I will just be healing him for the next girl that is fortunate enough to date him.

  Halloween is coming up in a few weeks. I will see what he decides to do for a costume. We’re supposed to go to some parties. I’ll see if he wants to do a couple’s costume. That is usually a pretty good sign that a guy likes you.

  After that we will have the holidays coming up. I would like to invite him to my parents’ place for Thanksgiving, but I think this would be some of the psycho, creepy girl behavior.

  And then will come Christmas, which will have to be celebrated a little bit before since the semester leaves before the actual holiday. I want his gift to be special. I’ve already been thinking of things to get him that would be appropriate for a friend to give him while still showing him that I care for him as something more than a friend.

  I wish I were a guy. Then I could just tell him that I love him and give us some sort of official status. Women have to wait for the man to make up his mind. You never know whether to encourage the man and make him feel safe to tell you what you think he is feeling, or whether you should act like you don’t care, so that he wants you even more. Either way, it hurts waiting.

  Prince Eric in a Can

  By

  Jack Webber

  The other night in bed, I was morbidly curious as to what first attracted her to Steve. Having known Steve for the majority of my life, I wanted to see how I compared to what she found attractive. The actual intelligence of this is questionable. The woman has said that she thinks I am good looking and have a sexy body. She seems to want me to love her.

  The problem is that although women think they are being obvious, their clear signals oftentimes get confused. Was she touching her hair just then because she was trying to signal her interest in me, or was it in her face? Was that slight touch accidental or on purpose? And when they say that you are handsome, do they mean it, or are they saying it because they would want somebody to tell them that? If guys are supposed to tell a woman that the dress looks good on them, then what is the point of asking us if it makes them look fat? Are they wanting a lie? If we love them enough to spare their feelings with a lie, is that better than a truth?

  And that is what confuses me about women. Sometimes something means one thing. Another time it means something entirely different. So when I asked her what attracted her to Steve, I didn’t know how to take her answer.

  At first, she avoided the question. Do I take that as she is completely over Steve? Or do I take that as she is not over Steve, and she doesn’t want me to compare myself to him because I would lose in the comparison?

  I let her not answer it the first few times, and I would let it drop for a few minutes before bringing it up again. After about an hour of slipping it into other conversations after having promised her that I would let it go, she finally answered it.

  She said part of what attracted her to Steve was the fact that he had jet black hair and blue eyes. She said that she has always found this combination sexy. And then she started talking about The Little Mermaid and how that was her favorite of the princess movies. She wanted to save a prince, give up something of herself in order to get a chance to be with the guy, and then get the guy to realize that she was the one that saved him.

  And all I got from that was that she liked Steve because of his black hair and blue eyes, which is what I told her. And then she got mad that that was all that I heard from her story. She then said that although Steve fit the bill of her prince in terms of looks that he wasn’t really the prince that she had been looking for.

  I then asked her if she thought I would look good with my hair darker. I already had blue eyes. My hair was a lighter shade of brown.

  This question then made her mad. She said that she liked me the way that I was and that I shouldn’t compare myself to Steve. She then said that women sometimes find one thing attractive with one guy and then something completely different to be attractive with another guy. There is a guy variance of sexy qualities.

  I’m just trying to figu
re out what she likes so I can try to see if I meet her requirements. Instead she gives me a shifting scare of what she finds attractive. Does she really think I’m attractive, or is she just telling me that? Does she want me to change without telling me that she wants me to change? Or could she possibly really think that I am perfect the way that I am?

  Oct. 17, 2010

  With the hayride on Friday night and no mention of anything else for the weekend, I had put all hope for a Sweetest Day with Jack away as just some stupid girl fantasy.

  He had gotten Megan to take me out shopping and do “girl” stuff as he called it. I hadn’t really thought anything about it. Jack is good at giving me space and letting me hang out with my female friends.

  And it felt good to discuss my problems with and feelings for Jack with Megan. I thought that maybe she could tell that I was having problems. It just turned into a nice girl’s day out.

  When we came back home, Jack was sitting in the living room. As soon as we entered, he stood up like he was presenting himself to somebody important. He was wearing a shirt and tie and had a bouquet of roses in his hand.

  He looked really handsome and really nervous and unsure of himself. I wasn’t much better. I was speechless. Thankfully Megan took my bags and pushed me towards him before going into her bedroom and shutting the door behind her.

  In one of the more awkward moments of our relationship, we just looked at each other and didn’t know what to say. I was just so happy that I didn’t want to ruin it. And maybe I was waiting for him to finally tell me that he loves me. It’s always best to just kind of let a man dangle out there by himself at such moments. It lets them stammer a little bit more so that they can spit out the right words that they have been trying to say.

  Jack’s words were, “Here I got these for you”, as he handed me the bouquet of roses.

  I thanked him and wished him a Happy Sweetest Day. He half-heartedly wished me a Happy Sweetest Day in return.

  “Are you okay? You seem to be acting strange”, I said as I was putting the flowers in water.

  “No, I’m fine. I just...”

  “Oh, God, Jack. I’m sorry. I didn’t know we were celebrating Sweetest Day. I didn’t get you anything. Although I don’t know what you usually get a guy for these holidays. I usually just have sex...”

  And that’s when I stopped talking and didn’t look at Jack.

  He came up behind me and put his arms around me and said, “If it makes you feel any better, I forgot about Sweetest Day, too.”

  “But the flowers...”

  “It’s the one month anniversary of the first time we kissed.”

  For some reason, not remembering the first time we kissed when it was special enough for him to remember didn’t make me feel any better. And maybe I should have remembered it. It was the first time in our relationship where we started to act like we were more than friends sharing a bed.

  And I wished my mind would have spent more time on thinking about how I didn’t remember the anniversary of the first time I kissed him. But there was this part of me that realized that if he was celebrating the first time we kissed as some sort of anniversary that he must really care about me.

  And that’s when I blurted out, “I love you!” He kind of jumped when I said it, which I can’t blame him. It didn’t sound very affectionate. With all of the excitement of the moment and thinking that he actually loved me, I just kind of yelled it... in a very scary way.

  It was bad enough to say it, but to say it like that was just stupid. It came out like I was some crazy stalker girl, which I am probably a little bit obsessed with him. I’m just obsessed with him in a moderately normal and healthy way considering we’ve been sleeping together in a consensual way.

  And I just waited for him to say something and to get me out of this situation. Of all of the things he could have said, he said, “We have reservations at 6. You should probably get dressed.”

  A simple “I love you, too” would have been nice. Even if he would have sounded scared and unsure of himself, it would have been better to at least hear that he loves me. I mean, who doesn’t tell you that they love you right after you tell them that you love them?

  Unless he thought that it was like the whole blowjob comment and that I didn’t really mean it. I could see him doing that. I’ve given him plenty of opportunities to not take what I say seriously when it just comes out of nowhere.

  Of course, he could have also thought that I was just saying it to cover up for the fact that I had forgotten it was the anniversary of the first time we kissed.

  I discussed all of this with Megan as I was busy getting dressed. And it may have taken me a little bit longer to get dressed. We had to try to decide what dress would be best in a situation where a) I had forgotten that it was the one month anniversary of the first time I kissed a guy I’m in love with. b) I had just scared the guy that I’m in love with by shouting my feelings for him. And c) I had to make him know that I was romantically interested in him in a perfectly normal and acceptable way.

  With everything that the dress had to convey, it took me a while. And it wouldn’t have been so bad, but I also told Megan that I wanted the dress to say that I wanted to sleep with him tonight while not looking cheap or desperate.

  That’s when Megan snapped at me. “Jesus! You seriously can’t keep a man without fucking him, can you?”

  And then I started crying. But she was right. Over the years, I would cover up all of the stupid things I would say by just having sex with the guy. It’s just that I learned that having sex distracted the man from all of the crazy stuff that I would say or do. It somehow made it be socially acceptable to be a nut job.

  Like if Jack had been like any other guy I’ve dated, I would have just started kissing him while undressing him after I had yelled my affections for him. By the time the sex would have been over, he would have totally forgotten about what I had said. And everything would be normal between us, like it never happened at all.

  So between the sobs and the inaudible crazy talk coming out of my mouth, Megan somehow figured out what I was saying. She hugged me and told me that I had a guy out there that loved me, even if he couldn’t say the words. She also said that I need to take it slowly with him. He’s learning to love again and is trying to make sure that he doesn’t get hurt by love this time around.

  Once I got dressed, Jack took me out to dinner. It was a really nice restaurant. Everything was perfect, but it was all wrong. There was just this tension between us where we weren’t even acting like ourselves.

  “I’m sorry that I screamed ‘I love you’ at you earlier. I just... And I’m sorry that I forgot it was the anniversary of the first time we kissed. You put a lot of thought into tonight.”

  “It wasn’t that hard. All I had to do was think of you.”

  And that’s when I said it. “I love you!” It wasn’t as loud as last time. Still it was pretty scary sounding.

  He just looked at me and said, “Are you okay tonight?”

  I didn’t want to tell him that I was madly in love with him. It’s better to secretly love somebody and not to have that love returned than to declare your love and not have it returned. It might not seem like much of a difference, but at least a secret love allows you to continue to be around the object of the affection. A rejected lover tends to throw you out with your proposal.

  So I told him that I was perfectly fine. He should just ignore me today since it was my time of the month.

  I know I shouldn’t blame something like this on my time of the month, but guys are all too willing to believe anything you say and do just by putting the blame for it on your period. They won’t even question it, if you start acting normal again in a couple of days, which gave me a very small window of opportunity to get everything worked out emotionally with Jack. I mean, I’m sure that I could stop screaming that I love him in a horrifying way in the next couple of days.

  Anyway, dinner went on in a mostly uneventful and awkw
ard way. I think Jack wanted to talk, but the whole female problem kind of scared him away from talking about anything, especially if it had to do with feelings.

  After dinner, Jack took me to the aquarium. He was kind of distant, which I thought was odd. Actually I thought the aquarium was odd for an anniversary type of thing to do.

  “Thank you for taking me to the aquarium. I really like it.” I tried to say it with the most sincerity that I could. I just really didn’t know why he would take me here when he was so good at picking out date things to do.

  “I’m glad you like it. I didn’t know where else to take you for an anniversary celebration.” He seemed as though he had put a lot of thought into it.

  I didn’t know why a bunch of fish would make him think of me, so I asked him in the most un-embarrassing way that I could.

  And as he told me about how he chose it because I liked The Little Mermaid when I was little and always thought that it was romantic, I realized just how much effort he did put into making this date perfect.

  And it wasn’t just that he had thought of me. It was that he had been listening to me all of those times when I had just been rambling. He paid attention and actually remembered the stupid stuff that every other guy had ignored.

  As this hit me, I stopped in the middle of the aquarium and was completely numb, while feeling a lot of different things at the same time. Jack just looked at me. He kind of was bracing himself for whatever horror was going to come screaming from my lips.

  Not really knowing what I was doing, I walked slowly over to him and never lost eye contact with him. He started to look around to see how many people were going to be witnesses of what he was sure was going to be some psycho-crazed woman on her period.

  That’s when I kissed him. And more than just kissing the man that I loved, I was kissing the man that tried to fulfill my stupid little girl obsession with trying to find the perfect man in the form of a handsome prince.