I am going to be honest; I am totally not above taking screen shots. If you send some fuck shit to my phone, you better accept the fact that I will be screen-shotting what you said,  and I will be sending that photo,  with the necessary commentary,  and appropriate emojis to my best friend(s) and/or sister. There are some things that can only be believed when seen. And, if you are a man who has a problem with the fact that I tell my friends and sister everything, then don’t talk to me. If I ask three friends about a pair of shoes before I buy them,  why wouldn’t I get their input on a man before I screw him?  …or before he screws me.

Proofreading and editing are fundamental. Because after you send some interesting words to my phone, you have forfeited your right to be included in whatever I do with those words after the fact.

Act right. That’s what I tell them.

That is some background information about me,  somewhat necessary for the appropriate amount of appreciation for the self-control   I exhibited during this unfortunate story.

Picture a second date, using the term “date” loosely: we’re young, it’s the day after a fabulous first date. We’re excited. We are well on the way to blissfully drunk. The wine is excellent. There is music and neither of us can stop smiling. And then my hand touches his hand, testing him. He passes. I like the feel of his hand. It is hot in mine when I move from his hand to his thigh and he leans toward me, intent glowing in his eyes. The excitement is there, yes,  it is. But also, nervousness. What if I could really like this guy? Is he as great as he seems? I thought the last guy was great and he was un-great, the very opposite of amazing. But his teeth graze my neck and that, that feels amazing and then my shirt has disappeared and my ponytail is gone and my braids are set free. And he feels very good. Good, and also scary and real and a lot like someone who could be good for me…until he turns out to be very bad.

And I balk with excuses about working early and not really being ready for sex (who is this stranger that I’ve become?) And get out of there, backing out of the door but unable to stop kissing him because, damn, it’s been so long since I’d actually kissed someone and liked it.

And maybe a day passes and I get a text from him. Naturally, I become very excited despite the fact that I ran out on him the other day. But then disaster struck as it always does, and unlike lightning, it will strike in the same place  on several occasions. What he said was: “I reconnected with my ex… and I doubt you want this drama.”  That’s a paraphrase. But how could he possibly know what I wanted? Drama can only exist where there is conflict and I didn’t much care whether he wanted to see his ex or not. But apparently, that was not the correct response, for he required a response from me at all and had already made up his mind that he was not going to see me again. The disappointment was surreal.

Like it? Share with your friends!



Talk With Me

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Maple Summers

Believes in freedom. Helping to bring openness to a sexually repressed country. Eradicating slut-shaming. Defending women of all walks. Encouraging explorative and healthy dating and relationships.

Send this to a friend

Hi, this may be interesting you: I know I met you on an online dating app, but I think we should just be regular friends, lol! This is the link: https://www.kissesnsnails.com/know-met-online-dating-app-think-just-regular-friends-lol/
Get freaky with me
Sign up for my newsletter to get all of my awesome posts about sex, sex toys, relationships, feminism, and domestic abuse. Be the first to know about all of my lovely music updates as I compose sonatas and stuff. Just because I'm nasty, doesn't mean I can't be classy. ;)
Your Email
Ask Maple
Get a Free Song!
My first tank drum, yoga and meditation, take your stress away music album will be here soon! Until then...
Sign up for my newsletter to get all of my awesome posts about sex, sex toys, relationships, feminism, and domestic abuse. Be the first to know about all of my lovely music updates as I compose sonatas and stuff and as I finish books, drop behind the scenes tidbits, and share my process.
Your Email
This content is locked
Use one of these wonderful buttons to unlock the content and support me. :)
This post is locked.
One email address will unlock this post. :) Thanks for supporting.
Being a blogger is hard. Sharing helps make sure I can keep pumping out awesome posts. Thank you!
Share before you go!
Hey there! Sign up for my newsletter to support Kisses & Snails, unlock the rest of this banging post, and get my book updates. <3
This Content Is Locked
Sharing is Caring
How am I ever to become a bestselling author without your help? Use one of the buttons to share a link to my book on Amazon and help support me. <3
Subscribe Now
You're going to love my writing. Let me prove it by giving you a free download of my first short story!
Your Email
Becoming Air is now available to stream.
I've been banging the drum and recording and sweating and crying and banging the drum some more to bring you my first ever album.
Listen to Becoming Air now:
Have a listen.  Is this what it feels like to melt-- to evaporate, to become nothing...to become... air?  I am...becoming air in...3...2...1...