Access Denied

We always hear about the classic tale of a girl rejecting a guy. "I just want to be friends." "I'm not that kind of girl." "Let's just cuddle." These are some of the classic excuses, and hey, I'm guilty of them just as much as the next girl. There have been countless times where I'm not in the mood, and instead of being honest with the guy and saying, hey, I'm just not that into you, I make up some lame excuse. Guilty. I admit it. However. How often do we hear of the guy rejecting the girl? Maybe this is me being a brat, but I've rarely been rejected before, and when I have, it's been for a pretty valid reason, like he has a girlfriend or something. So when the following events occurred, I was almost as heartbroken as when Aidan died during the season three finale of Revenge. Almost. Sorry, spoiler, don't hate me.

So there's this guy. And we're friends, and we vibe really well, and he came over the other night, and we drank some wine and talked for like four hours and I asked him if he wanted to spend the night. He had early meetings so he politely declined but said we should do it again the following night. Note: If someone plans a sleepover, clearly it's because they want to get it in. Right? I'm like yes! Great! See you tomorrow! I spent all day (by all day I mean the two hours between me getting home from the gym and the time he was supposed to come over) getting ready. I semi cleaned the kitchen (ran a Clorox wipe over the counter), organized the living room (re-stacked our multiple throw pillows), beautified myself (shaved my legs in the sink), got dressed (threw on an old Giants t shirt and leggings), and changed my sheets. Okay, that's kind of a big deal, changing my sheets is like an eight step process. He showed up with Chinese food and a movie (props to him for remembering what I like from that Chinese place). We're snuggled up on the sofa, and it's maybe 11:30, and I suggest that we finish the movie in bed.

Now, perhaps it's only been my experience, but when a girl makes a move to head towards the bedroom, the guy tends to take the reins from here. Call me old fashioned (in an odd sense), but I'm not going to be the one to go in for the first kiss. I want him to do that. But he didn't. He actually wanted to finish watching the movie in bed. We both brushed our teeth, washed our faces, and climbed into bed. He turns the movie back on and I'm sitting here like. Erm. What? I was confused, but maybe slow and steady was his MO? His phone suddenly starts ringing. He apologizes and steps into the hallway to take it, and while he's gone I get naked. I sleep naked anyways, so this wasn't a strange thing for me to do, but it was also a little (okay fine, a lot) suggestive as to where I wanted the evening to go. He comes back to bed, we finish the movie, and he finally puts his arm around me. Yes! Naked cuddling! This is it! Something will be happening any minute now! Any minute now... Okay... I am a patient person, but really? Not even a kiss? Nothing? We lay there in absolute silence. Suddenly, he moves his other hand. Yes! It's happening! He very slowly grazes his fingertips over one of my nipples, cups my breast in his hand... I've never been so excited! The anticipation is going to make this so much better! And he leans over and I know he's about to kiss me, and then he opens his mouth and says "Yeah, your boobs are way to big to ever use them." He lets go, rolls over, and falls asleep. He's a sculptor, and he had asked me earlier if I would be willing to let him do a mold of my torso. And apparently, I'm not good enough to even be used as an art piece.

I know he's not gay. I know he's not a virgin. And for all intents and purposes, I thought he was into me. I guess it just goes to show that you can never truly read a person until you're naked in bed with them. Ego=majorly bruised.

xx,

Gemma.