He’s Just Not That Into You

He's Just Not That Into You

We usually have our types of people we are attracted to; Tall, dark and handsome, Blonde Bombshell, Sassy Gingers, etc – and then life laughs at us, and instead gives us those that we actually attract. If you’re really lucky you will attract exactly what it is that you find attractive.

That’s not really been my case over the years, although I would say that of those I attract to me, I do find attractive. I just wouldn’t always seek them out.

If I were in the 1980’s Weird Science and building my perfect man – well let’s just cut all the details out. Robert Downey Jr would be standing next to me. Who am I kidding? He would be lying next to me, and frankly I wouldn’t have time for this blog. But — I digress.RDJ

If RDJ were completely out of the picture, and I was building my type – he would have most of the same physical qualities; dark eyes, sexy killer smile, thick dark hair. Confident without arrogance. Intelligent, and Funny. Laugh my ass off funny.

But that is not exactly what I attract. Most are fair haired, light eyed. Maybe a bit on the shy side. Sweeter smiles  I never — I very rarely conceded on intelligence or humour, and of course the two times I did it completely backfired, but we aren’t going there.

A group of us had a conversation once in what was more enticing; To chase or be chased? I’d say 95% of women want to be chased, but some out there like being the aggressor or pursuer. I think if I had the ego for it, I might be the pursuer. But it’s too difficult getting rejected. I’ve already hit on what I feel a man has to go thru in another blog and thank God I didn’t get that Y chromosome for those reasons alone (although peeing in the snow … always wished for that ability). Interestingly enough, what I seem to attract the most are the shyer ones. Maybe shy is the wrong word. I hate to use the word background guy, but  I don’t generally find myself attracted to a front and center guy, Not the lead singer, give me the quiet bassist. Or the introspective drummer.  It’s as if Cupid and Murphy got together and decided to make my future romantic life even more challenging than before, by giving me men who have a harder time than most to address their feelings, including those of interest.

The upside to this is, if I think I am being sought after I can very well slip into the aggressor role. The downside? Getting that clue thru to me. I almost always get my signals mixed. Which means either – I think you like me and you don’t. (Horrifying) Or you like me and I haven’t a clue.(Dense)

I’d say a good portion of the time I’m completely clueless about a shyer man’s interest in me. For example, I had this friendship many years ago. We had technically known each other a while, but had really only just started communicating one on one. I think both of us were single at the same time for the first time. He made me laugh a lot, which of course is a precursor for almost any relationship with me, friend or otherwise. Initially we just met up for a movie here or there and texted a lot. I saw us as good male/female friends, and sought him out as a sounding board for dating advise with other men  – even as much as wardrobe advise. He was great at calming my nerves. It wasn’t until a short-lived romance went south that he ramped up his flirting, which I had honestly took as bantering before. He finally expressed he was interested in me beyond a friendship, and had been for quite some time. I was floored. I hadn’t seen it coming, even though others around me said they had. They said it was astoundingly obvious. Long story short, we tried, but it didn’t work. It fucked up the friendship, and we moved on to other people. Would it have worked had we gotten together out the gate? I’m not certain, but I do know slipping from the role of friend to other seemed to make things a little weird for us.

My last long-term relationship was with a shyer man, and again it took a bit for me to catch on, but not quite as slowly as this abovementioned friendship. I think he had the confidence to know that I was interested in him as well, so it paved the way for him to let me know. And therein lies the other issue.

When you are trying to let them know you are interested …. The downside of interest in a shyer individual is walking that fine line of letting them know you are into them, without having to throw yourself on them. And while I am a fantastic aggressor with a green light, I’m a fumbling, bumbling putz when there is no figurate light to guide me.

BUT, because of all of this, I have had enough of life’s lessons to become a firm believer of the adage, “He’s just not that into you.” I don’t buy into the cliché where women come together with a thousand excuses of why he hasn’t called, or why he stopped seeing you. Life has taught me: If he is interested he will let you know. I don’t mean he has to spell it out, but the communication will be enough to leave you with a sense of understanding. Period. If I put the line out there, and I get nothing back? I don’t keep fishing there. Oh I have. Don’t get me wrong. I’ve lived those stupid uncomfortable this-had-to-have-only-happened-in-a-move moments before. That’s how I came to this conclusion; life’s lessons.

Once way back when answering machines were the rage, I left a message for a guy after a particularly good date. Not just good, it was a great fucking first date — sans sex. I didn’t phone immediately after, but maybe within a day or two. Nothing back. I did the whole, maybe he didn’t get the message thing and left another, and when that didn’t work – I don’t recall what I did. Maybe I called a third time? I might have. The point is, I wasn’t picking up on the “He’s not that into youvibe. I was being clueless and not picking up on the obvious cue, if you don’t hear from them, it wasn’t there.

That doesn’t mean I haven’t accidentally misunderstood cues before. Oh damn do I hate when that happens. Never more in life do I wish for a rewind, or recall, or plain old delete button in life, when I misunderstand a man’s interest, and find I was so off base. Nothing like offering up your phone number, and being told “Thank you” in a way that so clearly states, “I won’t be calling”. Rewind! DELETE, DELETE, DELETE! Then put your head back into your shell and pray you don’t run into one another for a while.

Sometimes it is necessary for me to go to my men friends and lay out the circumstances and let them be the detectives for me. “Did you do this” they might ask? “Did he do that” they’ll say? Most of the time they can figure it out for me. Because whoever said women were complicated, obviously never dated a shy man.

Instead of stupidly sticking my head out there, or keeping it so far tucked in my shell that I can’t hear life, maybe I’ll just stay off the market and wait for RDJ to become a widow. I bet he’ll still be hot at 80 ….



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