Despertar

an evil necessity

In addition to relapsing into a pattern of frustrating romantic/physical encounters with Justin, I have also been sexlessly dating my perfect guy, Chris. Chris is handsome, intelligent, hilarious, sweet, attentive and a brilliant writer. He earns six figures, cooks well, behaves spectacularly on dates, has great friends and thinks I'm wonderful. We've been out about ten times, and already we have been stopped by two perfect strangers who wanted to compliment us on what a great couple we seem to be.

We have kissed a couple of times, and it was awkward both times. He hasn't even attempted any of the other bases, which is fine with me, because sex with Justin is available pretty much whenever I feel like putting my emotions through the wringer.

So, to recap, my current romantic life consists of (usually) great sex and (consistently) great dating. Aside from the obvious fact that it would be more convenient if I were getting both things from the same person, why, you ask, isn't this situation doubly great?

A list of problems:

1. Chris presents no challenge. He has cooked for me twice, and because I am a broke law student and he is established in a career, he pays for everything, always. (I offer to split or treat sometimes, of course, but seriously, I had five dollars in my bank account this morning, and he apparently has enough of a surplus that he spent thirteen hundred on his mother yesterday. I think this is one of the rare scenarios when it's totally appropriate for him to pay whenever he wants.) He told me on our first date that he would love to have a girlfriend "like [me]," and all of his actions since have amounted to one long audition. As we all know, I can barely function in a situation like this. I thrive on the tension of not feeling good enough for someone. He is robbing me of that experience.

2. Chris compliments me constantly, sometimes on things that are legitimately good about me. On our second major date, I wore a black dress that, I say this objectively, makes me look chunky. It has an empire waist, which I know he hates (he's written blog entries about it), but he acted like it was the greatest thing ever. I would have loved a litlte flirtatious sparring over that, a little bit of me having to defend my right to wear fat clothes.

3. I love Justin.

4. Sexual chemistry? Psht. I finally had to tell Chris, on the phone, in the most awkward two minutes of dialogue in recorded history, that if he ever wants to hook up with me, he's going to have to initiate it himself. Ten minutes after we hung up, he texted me: "I'm not good at making the first move--any chance you could step out of your comfort zone and take charge?"
4b. Even bad sex with Justin is good. And I never have to make the first move.

5. I would be stupid not to realize that this whole chronicle makes Justin sound like the obvious antagonist, but he isn't. Justin is a sensitive, decent guy lacking in emotional maturity. Yes, his reluctance makes me feel more passionate and urgent about him, but objectively, he deserves it anyway. If I could choose between them, it would be Justin, hands down.

6. They don't know about each other. Justin gets jealous whenever I talk about other boys, even platonically (he hates Hugh); plus, I worry about the whole subtext where it might look like I'm trying to play Chris as a card to push Justin's hand. I wouldn't want to do that. Chris, meanwhile, hasn't asked me anything about my dating history, except in the context of new restaurants I'd like to try. Without a commitment to either one, I don't have to feel bad about things like seeing them both in a single evening or canceling plans with Chris for plans with Justin. However, doing those things clearly makes me an asshole.

7. I'm going to San Francisco in a few weeks anyway. While I'm gone, I'll probably talk to Justin every day, and Chris maybe four times in total.

8. I don't like hurting people. At this point, Chris has invested many hours and dollars in me, and sat through Baby Mama, arguably the chickiest chick flick in the world, because I badly wanted to see it. Unless something clicks over and I start really liking him really soon, I will, at some point, be taking advantage of him, and that will not do.

*

Anyway, all this is to say, while I'm not embarrassed about my car, I am terribly embarrassed about my room. If things continue to progress with Chris, there will inevitably come a point when I have to invite him over. His place is tidy and well-decorated to the point where it raises questions about his sexuality (not to stereotype, but he has flowers in his window boxes and pastel-colored art on his walls). My place, to borrow a phrase from Tina's mom, looks like a dog basket.

If he comes over, he'll probably decide he wants to stop dating me.

Actually, that might solve my problem right there.