What’s The Point of Playing Hard to Get?

I’m walking out as he’s walking in, and I consider lingering for just a moment. But I stick with the original plan and head somewhere else instead so I can sit and sip on a cocktail with my girlfriend while I silently wonder if he misses me. He doesn’t. If he missed me, he would call or text. If he missed me, I wouldn’t have gotten away so easily. Maybe those few passing moments of, “Hey, wussup, hello,” were enough to vaunt me into his current thoughts, although I wonder how fleeting his memory is. How many drinks will it take before he forgets to text me again. I realize that I can’t be bothered with someone who can’t be bothered with texting me with any less frequency than the slew of male platonic friends I have out there who bother to check in with me at least twice a week. I appreciate casual sex because it’s casual, but when it becomes completely disinterested sex, I wonder what the point is.

Which is why I left the bar, even though I saw him walking in. Even though half of the reason I was at that bar was to see him, but that’s fine. I was with all my friends, and while part of me is concerned that showing up at that bar made me look thirsty, well, there’s something to be said for the strength of human emotion. And its manifestation as desire for another human being beyond all logic. Luckily, I have managed to dial it down from that extreme into the mere, “hope I run into him at a bar so I can remember exactly how much I enjoyed fucking him,” that went through my head tonight.

I do not head back to the bar where I know he is right now because that would be too easy. Not for me, but for him. It would be too easy for him to turn me down. And I would be standing there, feeling so tired but eager in a hopeless way, drinking too much and feigning pretty in the back of the bar. I don’t go to him, because he does not call me to him. And what is a woman who chases dick? Why, that is not a woman at all, but a girl. A monstrosity of femininity in an adult woman’s body. I leave because that is what women do when men do not beg to fuck. Beg to fuck me. If you don’t beg to fuck me, then we will never fuck. You have to fucking beg.

And then maybe we will sleep together.