Wednesday, March 09, 2011

From a comment on "You Should Date an Illiterate Girl"

By LUCKYLEWY
In response to Charles Warnke. I told you to expect it.

Never date a guy who is broke. Meet him at the wrong time. Meet him in beautiful weather, preferably outside. Meet him when you are both interested in someone else. Add him on Facebook when you see his name pop up on the side of your page. Let him amaze you with his witty messages. Flirt. Don’t think about it too much.

Let him accept your request, months later. Talk until the sun comes out and the birds begin their song. Laugh at his jokes. Let him laugh at yours. Go into deep discussion about things like Penguins and Boxes.

Go to New York for the festive month. Let him want you. Go for a different guy. Come back to your warm state and continue the long giggly chats. Fall. Fall fast. Initiate a book club. Read Orwell.
Don’t finish the last chapter where she gets eaten alive by rats.

Go to New York in the bitter winter. Find out that he is at a lounge which serves tea. Go. Make long and intense eye contact. Look away.
It’s raining. Walk outside to fetch the car. Let him walk with you. Talk about the book.

Lead him into a room. Serve him fancy shaped ice cubes. Tell him he smells good. Fall. Embrace the silence. The dammed beautiful silence.
Let him help you prepare for an interview. Let him teach you Chapter 23. Thank him. Laugh with him when the interviewer was a complete nut.

Let him take you out for a coffee. Talk. Smile. Let him gaze into the depths of your soul. Let him fall. Let him wince in pain from “food poisoning.” Let him put his arm around you. Let him hold your hand.
Let him make historical dates and facts about the churches and buildings you pass. Laugh at him. Admire him.
When you get home and he doesn’t call or text, be hurt. Be hurt for the very first time. Want him. When you see a virtual note, describing all he feels in riddles and puns, know it’s about you. Smile. Continue talking, continue falling.

Go over seas with your family. Realize you miss talking to him. He misses you.

Make plans to be in his state for the summer. Let him take you “somewhere special” the first night you get there. Let him hold your hand. Walk around lost for an hour. Ask random strangers for useless
directions. Stumble to that special place. Breathe. Sit. Talk. Fall.
Let it rain. Let your hair frizz. Let your fucking makeup drip. You look beautiful. Beautifully in love. Let him lead you to shelter. Let him nervously kiss you for the first time at the top of the court’s steps. Laugh. Continue conversation. Then kiss him back. Fall.

Visit the museum at night. Fall asleep on each other on the eastern
staircase. Let him tell you he loves you in a tired and confused
state. Perk up. Ask him to repeat it. He won’t. Pretend you never
heard it. Lead him back to your closet of a room. Peek into a
forbidden hole. Laugh. Let him cover your mouth from laughing so you
won’t wake them up. Lay your head on his chest. Listen to his
heartbeat. Let him wrap his arms around you. Fall asleep. Wake up the
next morning. Quickly get dressed. Kiss him goodbye . Run down the
stairs. Be late for work.

Get into stupid fights because he wants to eat his cake and have it
too. Ask for closure.

Invite him over for soup. Watch him eat. Plan to watch a movie. Get
into bed. Start watching. Watch him answer his phone. Watch him leave.
Let him go.

While he’s walking you home, spontaneously take his hand and walk down
the subway’s steps. Even if it’s 3am. Take the train. Go anywhere. Let
him lean against a car on Friday night and tell you why you are being
crazy. He will tell you that he does not want to be in a relationship.
Walk away, upset. Let him follow you. Make up. Let him kiss you.

Get into more arguments about closure. Stop fighting, cause you’ll never win.

Let him sail off into the blue horizon. Miss him. Realize. Speculate.

Come back into New York for a few days before embarking on a 4 month
journey. Meet him at the park. Sit on a bench. Talk. Laugh. Smile.
Cry. Lean against the President Street bridge. Let the S train pass
from under you. Receive your first “get a room!” comment. Fall.

Meet him at a sketchy party in the outskirts of the city. Let him snub
off the frenchie that is trying to take you home. Smile. Dance. Meet
him outside. Let him kiss you under the church’s awning. Let him take
your breath away. Let him tell you that you are his world. Believe
him.

Let him give you moldy flowers. Let your heart melt. Let him put a
necklace around your neck. Tell him you love him. Let him kiss you one
last time. Bid adieu.

Go to Israel. Miss him. Arrange skype dates. Talk on the phone for
hours, like there is not 439898 miles between you. Let him tell you he
loves you for the first time.

Come home because you miss him too much. Date him. Accept his 9-12
months proposal. One year. January.

Send your Arab driver to pick him up from Miami. Knock at the door and
let your clothes come off before he even says hello. Breathe him in.
Lay in bed. Let him admire. Go for walks on the boardwalk. Make sure
you stop at the Hilton to use the bathroom. Promise that next time we
will bring bathing suits for we are going swimming in the hotel pool.

Drive to Deleon springs. Buy lotto tickets on the way. Tell him you
know you will break up in a year. Watch him wiggle in discomfort in
his seat. Lay on a white sheet under the canopy trees. Eat
strawberries. Love. Walk into an antique shop. Laugh. Suggest Cohens.
Sit at the table closest to the door. Order a hamburger. Stop eating
one bite through because he will not stop staring. Smile. Say “What?”
Let him tell you that he could get used to this. Believe him. Fall.

Take the shuttle with him to the airport. Write letters to each other
before you part. Hold onto him and cry. Cry until there are no tears
left.

Be inseparable. Write. Talk. Laugh. Smile. Skype. Message. Be best friends.

Go to New York. Link arms while walking into OT. Let everyone gawk at
you. You beautiful couple. Let him take you upstairs. Look at the
picture of him as a boy. Kiss him. Go to South street sea port. Hook
up in the Express dressing room. Try on tacky lingerie for him. Let
him take you to an organic cupcake joint. Lick frosting off his mouth.
Laugh. Love. Nervously meet his brother and sister in law. Breathe.
Eat terra chips. Smile. Let them like you.

Introduce him to your parents. Smile when you see them all together.
Let him play with your nieces and talk to your sister and her husband.
Be happy. Think you could so get used to it.

Run your hands through his hair. Let him convince you. Do it. Use candy if it’s bad. See him enjoy. Sin.

Let him see your weaknesses. Cry when things get heavy with mum. Cry
to him. Leave your mark on his white shirt. The shirt you bought him.

Stumble into photo booths every time you see one. Keep them all over
your room as little reminders.

Bring up marriage. Hear him tell you that he is still not ready and
needs time. Tell him you need to be with him. Cry when he doesn’t
understand. Tell him you need to wake up to him. Cry again. Feel your
heart break when he doesn’t budge.

Go to Australia. Hope things will get better. Watch as they get worse.
Try to be happy. Try not to miss him. Be nice. Understand he still
won’t be ready. Feel like shit. Slip away. Let him slip away

Date a guy who will keep you waiting. Date a guy who you love more
than you love anything. Date a guy who can’t drive. But never date a
guy who is broke. Because he knows that less money means more
struggling. And God forbid should one struggle. He will blame
everything on the fact that he is not financially able. He will loose
faith. He will loose you. He lost you.

Cry to him one last time. See how he watches you, unmoved. Unaffected.
Watch him as his smug shoulders shrug, watch him as doesn’t care. Let
him go. Don’t think too much about it.

Don’t think too much about him.

Let him go.

3 comments:

leggy said...

lol.
i actually read this.
me likey.

Harry Itie said...

I guess only a girl will completely relate to this...

Nice one though

Femme Lounge said...

awww, its so lovely. i likey.