I am kind of dating eight different boys right now. This wasn’t intentional. It’s not as if I go out on hunts, it just happens when you’re subconsciously open to it. My rule proved to be true.
Caitlin Rule: Tread softly with your words because once something is said out loud, it becomes real.
I received a really retarded text from a boy who kicked my ass recently, and it was kind of the last straw. My friend Rachel was with me and in a burst of frustration I shouted, “I’m just going to go back to being a man-eater!”
Sure enough, that very night, suddenly two new boys whom I have zero possibility of a future with were in my life. Two weeks later, and now my number is up to eight. Yes, it is taking some bravery to write this entry because it will absolutely piss some people off, but I figure it’s a way to wean out the faint of heart. Maybe one day I’ll find someone who understands the humor behind my exploits. I tell all of these guys that I see other people, but most boys seem to have selective hearing, so if this comes as a shock… their bad.
Caitlin Rule: Never date a writer because they will write about you.
Right up until my outburst with Rachel, boys had kicked my ass over the past year or so. I suppose I had it coming because for a good chunk of my twenties, I was mostly just using boys as a form of entertainment. Of course there were some who I truly cared about, but looking back on the flings between the ages of 24-27, they mostly just provided immediate gratification and held little integrity.
There were times back then when I would be dating a handful of people at once. To maintain some level of self-respect, I’m never sleeping with more than one person at a time. Mostly these guys I was “dating” I would maybe see once a week and we’d go somewhere like a gallery opening or a comedy show, then have a couple of drinks. Generally this would lead to a profound conversation and then making-out on their couch. Then I’d smile sweetly and say, “I have to go,” and they wouldn’t hear from me again until next week… after I had done the same thing with the other four guys.
Obviously, that got tiring and meaningless. It wasn’t a conscious decision, but somewhere along the way I did just start naturally looking for something with a little more stability. Something to be respected. Well, I found a few, and they just ended up kicking my ass! I tend to not write about the ones that hurt the most, so all I’m going to say about the one who beat me up the worst (metaphorically speaking), is that I did truly try. For the first time in a long time, and possibly only the second time in my life, I truly tried in that relationship. He still left me though, so look where that got me.
After that, there was another guy I started seeing (again). It wasn’t serious, but I began to believe that we could be great together if we gave it a real shot. Now he’s a baby daddy. Well, the chick is still pregnant, so he is a soon-to-be baby daddy, and that obviously brought on far too many complications for our mild “relationship” to stay afloat, let alone blossom. What I’m getting at is, after all of those years of acting like an asshole and not getting emotionally invested, the second I give people some real respect, and the second I try to build relationships with solid ground, they fucking pummeled me. So, inconsequential flings with some people who make me laugh and definitely don’t make me cry, sounds like a beautiful counteraction. You may be thinking that “rebound” would be a more appropriate description to which I can see your point, but I don’t fully agree because rebounds insinuate that sex is taking place (which it is mostly not in my case) and rebounds also seem to be associated with a kind of darkness; an inner turmoil that one is trying to drown out with false love. I am not in a dark place right now, I’m just having a lot of fun and not taking myself or anyone else too seriously. I have completely eradicated hope from my life. That may sound depressing, but I find it sincerely liberating and I’ll explain more about that some other time.
Since I have been attempting to juggle eight different boys, my personal life has been like an episode of Gossip Girl on steroids. A few days ago, I decided to get organized. I sat down at my desk to get to work. I had just received my schedule for the week, so it was time to begin adjusting these boys’ lives to mine. I began texting them, all at the same time which was a terrible idea, and quite literally had to pencil them into my calendar. Okay, I used a pen, but still, I actually had to bust out my calendar at my desk to write in for Saturday: “Lunch with boring boy, dinner with thug boy and late drinks with baseball boy.” Wednesday looked something like, “Coffee with boxing boy, show with skater boy? or possibly baby daddy?” The fact that the baby daddy is still in my life is ridiculous, I know, but he’s only like 3% (a minority that doesn’t even count) in my life and I’m sure I’ll explain that story soon enough.
With this type of schedule, of course I have to prepare for the unexpected. I mean, what if dinner with thug boyfriend (I call him this because he looks like a straight up drug dealer) goes way better than anticipated and I want to continue having him as company? Well, that means I would have to cancel on baseball boy. Here is why it is slightly okay… I don’t lie. In the off-chance that thug boyfriend holds my attention for more than a couple of hours, then I will text baseball boy and tell him, “I’m so sorry, I can’t make it tonight for drinks! I got held up at dinner.”
If baseball boy straight up asked me, “is that because you are with someone else?” I would absolutely say, yes. But they never straight up ask. And neither do I. That’s not my business nor my style. As long as things are light, I honestly could not fucking care less if I was also penciled into a guy’s calendar. One very important thing that I learned from the boy with the white hair is that it’s crucial to understand what your role is in someone’s life. I understand that my role in most of these guys lives are just like what their role is in mine. They’re using me as much as I am using them and I find nothing wrong with that. We enjoy the time and then continue.
I just got off of the phone with Cody (who is a great old friend of mine that I talk about in This Is Now), and he suspected for a moment that I was meeting these guys online. He knows better, so I don’t think that he actually thought that, he just has a terrible case of not being able to stop his mouth from moving. Quite literally, I don’t think he can refrain from words coming from his mouth at all times. So he says shit that he doesn’t even mean or believe. It’s almost like having Tourettes but with whole sentences. I love him for it though. Anyway, the point being that I would like to make it perfectly fucking clear that I am in no way online dating.
The point of all of this is to kind of bring you, the reader, up to speed because I think I will start chronicling this absolutely absurd dating life. This is the first part, and I’m sure that it won’t last long because these kinds of romances never do. For example, I thought that I’ve already crossed one guy off of the list because I accidentally sent him the wrong text, which was absolutely bound to happen.
Like I said, I have at least a little bit of self-respect, so I am only sleeping with one of these boys. I meant to send him the text that said, “Did you throw me up against a wall or something last night? The center of my back has a bruise on it.” Well, I sent that text to boring boy instead. I realized it immediately and just started laughing out loud. I mean, what else can you do in that situation? Then I texted it to the right guy, to which he responded, “Unfortunately we weren’t in a place to be doing that.” Which was true… we were very much around other people for the whole night, but there was a couple of times that we stole a passionate kiss, so I thought that maybe one of those times he banged me up against a wall and I just didn’t notice because whiskey and hormones were involved.
I was busy daydreaming about him throwing me against a wall when I got the text from boring boy that said, “wrong text.” Yeah, thanks, champ. “Sorry about that” is all I could say back. The truly amazing part is that I still heard from the boring boy two days later. It’s stunning how much people are willing to put up with during the chase.