The Pursued and the Pursuer

I’ve dated six guys in the past decade. Out of these, one made the first move, two were mutual enough to be unclear who made the first move, and the other three, I made the first move.

On the other hand, since I was a girl who played video games and had a male-dominated major, a lot of guys “tried,” if you can call pretending to want to hang out and then ignoring me when one of us found someone else while never saying anything about liking me. Which I don’t. I also have had one guy just outright offer sex repeatedly, despite his girlfriend, and I don’t count that either.

I went to a party at my friends’ place. One of them (the husband) got a new job, so he invited friends over to celebrate. The husband had a friend I didn’t know who was there. I heard from both him and the wife that their friend was asking about me and called me cute. Meanwhile, I can’t remember anyone I’ve only met once. The couple threw a Halloween party too, and the husband told me to bring my Magic cards, since this guy also played. Then he and I made plans to hang out. It went well. But…

It makes me nervous. I’ve realized that I’m just not comfortable being pursued.

First, the minor reasons: it reminds me of the people from college who never SAID anything and made me feel like I wasn’t worth being friends with, it reminds me of people who talk about the friendzone, it reminds me of the creepy shit a lot of men send women, it reminds me of Pickup Artists and Nice Guys and rapists. I don’t want to lose my control. All of my relationships have been good enough; I’ve been in control. I haven’t been raped or creeped on. I don’t do the “normal” dating with strangers and going out. I date friends; people I know and trust already.

I’m so scared of not being in control. I’m scared of not knowing a person and how they’ll react if I’m not interested.

This guy is a good friend of a good friend, and to a point, I trust his judgement. (The guy is better friends with the husband than the wife.) Still, it fills me with anxiety; the husband doesn’t know the romantic personality of his friend. When someone is denied what they think they deserve, they can lose their fucking mind. On one hand, I think I’m paranoid, but on the other, how can you see this coming?

In conclusion, there is no conclusion. I don’t have an answer or a moral; just a rambling about why I’m feeling really unsure about where I’ve found myself.