Guys, This is Why I Have Trust Issues
I’m in the fetal position, hands tied behind my back — the 3rd time this month.
But I’m actually not in some racy motel. I lay in a ditch just out of town, half-naked — disappointed and disheveled — left for dead by that handsome stranger who was supposed to be my date.
So what the heck Derek?!
I came to the dark alley you identified for our “meet up.” I was shaved and ready for sweet talk and sexy time. I thought the internet gods smiled my way when you looked exactly like your profile pic: Thor in the flesh.
You opened with, “Come alone? Just like I told you?”
I nodded and flashed you that coquettish smile. I was thinking, “Yaaaasss!”
Then you pulled something slender and shiny from your pocket. I thought you were fishing for the key to your vintage ride. I thought we were going for a moonlit drive, it was too late when I realized that the thing you were holding was a bit too long and too straight to be a car key.
Standing from behind, you held the knife to my neck. (To get me aroused, I guess.)
Your lips touched my ears, and you gently whispered, “Give it to me.”
To be honest, I wanted to give it to you right then and there, but I remembered what Oprah said, “Play it cool, Missy.”
Your hands searched my body. I can feel you really wanted it. Daddy wanted it bad. To be desired like that, there’s nothing like it! I remember thinking, “A little too early to be doing this, but…”
I wanted it just as much as you do, so I didn’t stop you from having your way with me. (Although, I noticed you spent more time searching through my purse than my anatomy.)
In an instant, you swept me off my feet. Literally.
It felt like a Jiujitsu move. My head hit the pavement, and from then on, it was all fireflies and butterflies. It was not the kind of head-over-heels I was expecting, but I was helplessly intrigued about where this thing was going.
As it turns out, I was right about that moonlit car ride. At least I think the moon was out. It was kinda hard to see in the trunk of your car. (’Twas was so sweet of you carrying and dumping me into the back of your old Honda.)
As I scrunched up in fetal position, being knocked senseless by one pothole and then another, I couldn’t help but think about our future together: the fun we’ll have shopping for antiques and staying in exotic Airbnbs. And, when the time comes, we’re gonna name our kids Kristin (with a “K”), and Gerry (with a “G”).
The car stopped just out of town. You picked me up from the trunk, and through hazy eyes, I realized you found the perfect spot with total privacy. I thought, “Dang! This Casanova knows what he’s doing!”
I said I love romantic walks on the beach, you did that one better. You firmly pushed my face into the sand. I found that a little too tacky, but hey, I was not gonna look back and ruin the surprise you arranged for the evening.
I kept as still as I could…and as quiet as I could.
But, to my utter dismay, after a minute or two, the hand pushing my face into the sand was gone. All I heard was the sound of car tires screeching.
I turned my bruised neck, and you were gone. Just like that.
My Romeo.
…
So what the hell Derek?!
What was all that build-up for?
Did I scare you away? What did I do wrong, baby?!
You gave me hope, only to snatch it in a heartbeat. You shouldn’t do those things to women, you know. Hellooo, we have feelings too!
In fact, you’ve made this princess feel things she’s never felt before. So don’t think you can drive away from my life just like that!
…
Call me.
