My Dirtiest Little Secret

I have a secret. And, I can't tell you his name. 

I am living, breathing, engaging in, (admittedly over analyzing) a "thing" that will never be a relationship and I can't even tell social media we hang out. 

We have a secret. 

No. He is not married. No. He does not have kids. No. I am NOT the other woman, nor would I ever be. That's just it, though. Why do we have a secret? He is a single, functioning, charming adult employed at a well paying job, with no one in his life but me... and Tinder.

What has this over-sexualized, over-publicized, commitment-phobic culture dragged me in to? I hardly recognize myself; except in moments of doubt when I find myself curled in a blubbering ball on my bed praying for mercy from this mess and my decision to stay in it. That is the me I know. The realist, the smart girl who knows when to run. But I never do. I quickly snap out of that when he sends me a snapchat. I realize that he probably sent it to 5 other women. But, any attention from him and I am a swooning, cooing, school girl ready to perpetuate our secret; just one more day. 

I have told myself its over almost a dozen times. I have told him its over twice. And where was I last Thursday? Hanging out talking movies and dirty jokes hoping he would somehow realize that I am the most amazing woman ever and suddenly want to be with me and only me. 

"I just want someone who wants to hang out all the time, thinks I'm the best person in the world, and wants to have sex with only me. " -Hannah, Girls

All of this is 100% my fault. I knew what it was going into it. I knew what it was from day 1. I knew the kind of guy he was from the day I met him. And somehow, in my stupid girl brain, I got it all twisted up thinking I could change him. Every woman stupidly thinks that at some point. 

In those moments of clarity when I said it was over, I tried to date and tried to meet other people. The worst part is, no matter who I would go out with or how many other people I met, I found myself calling him at the end of the night anyway. I don't want them. And as long as he is in my life and I keep stringing myself along, I will never be free to see other people because in my head, every snapchat, text, IM or any other form of communication from him that can be directed at me, is a glimmer of hope that he might actually be into me; because I'm that delirious. 

We used to just be friends. Every Thursday I would blow up his phone when I was out with my girlfriends and we would beg him to come out to karaoke and he would. That wasn't weird. Now, if I call him, it better not be more than once and I'd be lucky to see him when I'm out with my friends. If he is out with his friends, I can hug them to greet them, but a low five is pretty much all we do anymore. God forbid we show any intimacy in front of these people who actually know we "hang out." They might get the wrong idea; that we are in love or something. 

So, not only is our friendship a secret from all of social media, our intimate friendship is hushed in front of the people who know that we are a little more than friends. 

Just a little. 

I think my biggest problem is that he gets my sense of humor and he laughs and plays off of anything I say. I am a total sucker for anyone who thinks I'm funny and is funny right back. 

But, I digress. So, where has our generation gotten this secrecy from? 

Facebook, Twitter, Tinder, and countless other forms of communication have become an essential part of our lives. The socialization, the attention, the followers all of it presented as truth, naked and complete. But we have these little secrets until we are sure that they will work out. Then we can publicize as much as we want wherever we want. Until then, we have to pretend we don't know each other. 

We start out IMing and then you can text but God forbid you actually call each other. Only crazy people call someone else if they want to hang out- how desperate they must be. There are so many more stages to dating now! What ever happened to, "I like you. Do you like me enough to get pinned and make out in the backseat of my car overlooking the kissing cliff?" What happened to long talks on the phone and waiting for the other person to hang up first? 

Now it is the never ending battle of who could care less. 

I never care less.

He literally said to me, "Don't fall in love with me," the other day. As if love were the worst thing that could happen to someone. I always fall for the guy. No matter how hard I try not to. The truth is, love is the worst thing to happen to someone... if they're the only one in love.

I wish we could stop all this game playing and secrecy from the world and each other. I wish he could just admit that there are women he cares about more than me so I could move on or I could admit that there aren't any men that I care about more than him and he wouldn't run. But, that's not the way we do things 'round here anymore. 

Being a twentysomething and dating means secrets. It means playing games. It means pretending you don't care because caring, calling, falling, it all pushes people away. It means that I'll curl into a blubbering ball on my bed at least a dozen more times before I break and truly let myself let go of him. 

Hey, can I see you tonight?

-Sarah

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