If you’d told me a year ago that I’d be sitting looking at my phone at unnecessarily frequent intervals, wondering why a hot man hadn’t text me back, I would have told you that you were as crazy as me. I am a lesbian widow. But right now, Boy Widower is out with his very own Tinder Girl #1 and I’m miffed. I’ve had super short messages back from him over the past week or so. He hasn’t even responded to my message last night. It was teasing and alluding to us meeting up – I was expecting details on a date, time and hotel in return. Silence is a BIG contrast to the hour or two long chats just a few weeks ago where he was pretty graphic in telling me he wanted to have sex on my desk doggy style. I DO NOT UNDERSTAND AND I HAVE NO IDEA WHY I’M REACTING LIKE THIS IN CAPITAL LETTERS.
Maybe I’m overreacting because I’ve had a Netflix marathon of Pretty Little Liars. It’s about a bunch of fit 16-year-olds (I feel a bit pervy thinking Lucy Hale playing a teenager is hot) who obsess about boys, are able to paint their nails blue because they don’t have proper jobs yet, and bounce around in tight little plaid dresses whilst trying to solve a murder. I’ve been off work ill so I’ve literally watched about 20 hours of this teenage drama. I’m pretty much living vicariously through a schoolgirl having an affair with her English teacher. I have never been a girl who has crushes on boys. I’m gay, for God’s sake. In my school days, I was obsessing over Julie the soprano who also led the Scripture Union. I learned how to play the flute and got super religious because of her (yes, I’d LOVE to be part of your Bible group and to be your accountability partner! We can practise double tonguing too – for the flute exam – if you’d like). I went through quite a long coming out process.
Yet here I am in my late twenties. A couple of months ago, I kissed a hot widower when we met up for the first time in a total NON date situation. I cried. He cried (not while kissing – it wasn’t THAT bad). And since then, my head’s been all over the place. I’ve felt truly EXCITED. “Limerance” is the term psychologist Dorothy Tennov coined – “an involuntary interpersonal state that involves intrusive, obsessive, and compulsive thoughts, feelings and behaviours that are contingent on perceived emotional reciprocation from the object of interest.” There’s a good Scrabble word for you.
BW and I met up a few days ago with widow second bestie and his widower bestie. Widow orgy! I hope search engines don’t send pervy men to this blog by accident with those search terms. It was the first time I’d seen BW since holiday and I wanted a wing-woman to take some of the pressure off the whole potential have-sex-in-my-bed-with-a-real-cock (AHH!) thing. We collectively had loads of widow fun. There was chemistry with BW, I punched him, I felt his arm hair against my arm, we were unnecessarily close but then he was teasing me about the fit lesbian waitress who was making eyes at me. I think, like I have an issue with him being a man, he has an issue with me being a lesbian. It’s a lot for us to get our heads around. Still, we want sex. GAH.
BW dropped the bombshell and shared that he’d set up a Tinder profile. Only three nights prior, we’d talked about him being worried about people he knows seeing him on Tinder. Yes now there he was, showing us all a picture of his very own about to be Tinder Girl #1 (BWTG#1) – a blonde who’s excellent at extreme contouring and consequently looks like a porn star. She’s the sort who pouts in every single one of her selfies and pushes her boobs together with her arms for extra cleavage. She probably can’t spell. Jealous much? Yes. I am. Why can’t I just go back to being 200% massive lesbian? Ok, ok, I know lots of you are going to tell me that sexuality is fluid and I can fancy whoever I fancy. I hear you. I just don’t get it yet.
Maybe this is some sort of game. Last week with the others, it came out that I’ve been playing Tinderella with TG#1 and TG#2 so maybe he wants a go at the dating thing too. Maybe he wants to brag. I did make it clear though that neither of my Tinder dates worked out – that is if TG#2 takes the hint from my messages diminuendo-ing into silence over the past couple of days. Maybe I should be taking the same hint from Boy Widower. Maybe my purchase of red lace underwear has gone to waste (lesbians don’t like red lace – only straight men). Well, for sure, I and my new knickers will not be going anywhere near his man bits if BWTG#1PornStar has been there. Classical beauty dead wife, I am more than accepting of, but Tinder skank ho? Hell no.
I’m such a fucking hypocrite… Can someone tell me how this works please?