NOT TEXTING BACK
Whew! Is it hot in here or is that just my phone over-heating from holding it in a sweaty vice-like grip while I wait in desperation for that text back…excuse me while I distract myself by cyber-stalking this elusive (almost) bae while using every ounce of my self control to resist @ mentioning him on that instagram model’s post with: “funny how u can comment *triple peach emojis* on this post but you’re unable to text back…#whackpriorities”. But until I see that read receipt on iMessage I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt because in the game of fuckboy love, it’s not over until the last text is seen…(and if it’s seen and he still doesn’t text back give him like 24 hours to reply in case he’s just super busy!!)
Butterflies. Chills. Be still my heart. I know chivalry is certainly alive and well when I receive a polite text request for nudes featuring high school level grammar worded in a Shakespearian tongue: “Nudes? Don’t be shy w the angles cutie,,,wanna see all of u. *eggplant emoji/jerking off fist emoji/water droplets emoji/smiling purple demon emoji*” Sigh…please crank that A/C up because I’m LITERALLY melting.
INTERMITTENT “GHOSTING” JUST TO KEEP ME ON MY TOES
Nothing like extreme no-text-backs for extended amounts of time to really get my heart racing. No sign of a reply for days at a time is enough to drive me wild with obsessive desire. Similar to a distressed wildebeast in heat, I visibly unleash my thirst for a mate in the form of dramatic groans of anguish as I thrash about my futon in frustration…with glazed eyes glued to my phone screen…just as the the wildebeast scans the horizon for a mate, I scan my texts in search of a reply. Expert level fuckboys know exactly when to send a simple “wyd” - instantly reigniting our text thread and my heart mere moments before I hit send on my signature: “hmu when you’re free i guess…*shy/uncertain emoji*” in that final attempt to lure the fuckboy from his familiar hiding spots deep beneath the bowels of the nearest Footlocker or Vape Emporium. It’s evident that absence makes the heart grow fonder, not just IRL, but in the cyber world as well…after a good solid ghosting I legitimately have to bite my tongue in order to resist asking him to move in so we can start our family.
HAVING COMMITMENT ISSUES / FEARING LABELS WITH EVERY FIBER OF HIS BEING
There’s something about his unwavering refusal to consider me his girlfriend that really sparks a completely rational hope in my heart that he might eventually consider me his girlfriend if I just improve all my flawed attributes until he has no choice but to fall in love with me or at least introduce me to one other human being in his life. In this magical fairytale scenario I’m similar to a classic Disney Princess in that I must sacrifice and permanently change defining aspects of myself in order to transform this fuckboy into my Prince Charming. Excuse me while I comb through every text/interaction/memory we’ve ever shared in an obsessive attempt to discover which parts of me he could do without so I can get rid of them and be worthy of his love. It’ll be like a fun scavenger hunt fueled by self-loathing! You’d think by now I would’ve learned how to avoid this repetitive scenario…But how can I resist that classic bare minimum Tinder bio paired with the smoldering head shots that could only belong to an unrepped seasoned background extra? As soon as I see that solo gif in my inbox featuring Joey from Friends wiggling his eyebrows; “How you doin’?” I’m a goner…this hunk knows ALL the right moves.