It started off as an experiment. No one makes eye contact any more. And if there is eye contact, it’s short, lasting three seconds the most. If you stare into someone’s eyes long enough, that person is bound to feel something. So I stared intensely, curious on what will happen. Did I objectify? Maybe. Yes.
I feigned interest in stories meant to impress. I found them clichéd. I spoke about shit that, according to every dating rule out there, people really should not bring up their first dates. I didn’t care; I was on my high-horse. And I am not much of a rules person.
When we first fucked, it was just as clichéd. Boy pushing and tugging, girl squirming and giving reasons not to do it. Then giving in since it was easier. It wasn’t impressive. I felt lonely after.
I am not sure when I let my guard down. Maybe when I was freaking out in front of my friend, complaining of feeling overwhelmed by all the attention and the friend told me to take it easy. That struck a cord since I never take it easy. Maybe I gazed too long and got lost in what I saw before me.
The fucking got better. I still felt lonely though; I felt lonely standing in the same room with him. Not lonely, that’s not the right word. Objectified.
It was the eye contact that gave it away when things were changing. When we fucked, instead of staring back, he started to turn his eyes to the left. It’s the classic body language when someone is lying or feeling guilty. Once a woman asked me for money, explaining that she need to buy a calling card for an emergency. I shifted my gaze left and said that I didn’t have any change. I lied.
These are all generalities. It’s not about you, don’t be so pompous. None of this is true and there is no meaning. And it’s all so clichéd.
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