The Most Inexcusable Slights

Disclaimer: This entire post was written and posted while still quite intoxicated. Please be mindful.

I feel utterly disrespected, like a nobody. Trying to pull the wool over my eyes … Imagine!

The Flirt was part of my group tonight. I met Rachel* for dinner. We met up with other friends later. The Flirt was among them. He is newly returned from a trip to Louisville, KY. I knew he met up with his Kentucky booty call this week. It was inevitable. I can’t help but have low expectations of him. His carnal weakness is transparent. I am mildly offended by it. Only mildly because I know I have no right to be. We experienced a few brief moments of indulgence. They were nothing more. The only offense is that he has no more respect than to immediately jump into another woman’s bed. Disrespectful to her. Disrespectful to me.

We are out tonight playing pool. Rachel quizzes him about his relationship with this person. He refers to her as his ‘girlfriend.’ She tells me this, but I feign ignorance. We go about with usual flirting and horseplay. Rachel thinks we should play up tempting him as a gag. I’m not as enthusiastic. If he has serious feelings for this person and is attempting a relationship, we should be respectful, regardless of our misgivings. After much time has passed, and Rachel has begun her shenanigans, we are locked in a three-way hug. He plays up to it, wanting the attention. Rachel asks something out of my earshot. I hear his response of, “She wouldn’t like this at all.” It was then Rachel’s turn to shoot pool, so she steps away. I ask him what he meant by that. Who was the ‘she,’ and why wouldn’t she like it? He confides that she referred to the girl in Kentucky. I ask if they are involved. He responds that she is, but he isn’t as much. I ask, “You saw her this week, didn’t you?” He responds that he saw her and f***ed her brains out. He never indicates a serious connection to this person, even after I chastise him for sleeping with someone who has obviously taken things more seriously.

We still flirt, because by all indications to me, he isn’t involved with anyone. He makes several references to wanting me to bl** him. He’ll stay out later if I’ll bl** him. I ask if he’s coming home with me, as a test really, in response to which he asks if I’ll bl** him. In other words, I don’t offer enough perks to be worth his time. When the last game of pool is finished, he leaves.

Rachel is chatty with me once he is gone. I reveal to her what a different story he gave me, but no. He had indicated to her that he needed to leave to avoid temptation. It was the right thing for him to do. The story he gave her was entirely different than the one given me. My only conclusion is that he felt a need to keep his options open. The girl in Kentucky is hundreds of miles away. Chances are slim that it will work. Knowing The Flirt, I can’t see it working. He tells me a different story in order to keep me in his back pocket. Never mind our friendship. Never mind how I trust him. He won’t be forthcoming with me out of fear … fear of losing a booty call, no matter that it isn’t quite real. No matter that I won’t do him, or bl** him, he wants to keep me on the sidelines, just in case. I deserve better. I believe I’ve been gracious, never having expected more than simple friendship … never reading more into our encounters. One thing I do believe I should expect from a friend with whom I’ve been so intimate is straightforward honesty. I don’t like hearing a different story from another friend than the one he tells me. Knowing where I stand should be a right, not a privilege. Being treated as a friend and not just a booty call is also the least of respect I should be shown. I’m tired of being trod upon. I’m just tired.

* = Names have been changed to protect those whom I like.