To those of you who know what a queef is, as you can tell, this post will be slightly TMI near the end. To those of you who don’t, google it, then decide if you’ll proceed reading. I promise there’s a silver lining in spite of the TMI, though.
Well, guess who took the express lane to the very front seat of my frontal lobe, yet again?
Yes. The Russian.
On Wednesday he texted me: “Did you find a place in (the city that I adore)?”
I ignored him for a few minutes and he texted again. Due to this uncharacteristic insistence, I answered: “Russian, why are you texting me?”
Ensue the age-old trap: “You were on my mind.”
Fuck. It always works. Although it didn’t work immediately.
He went on in detail as to why he was thinking of me. And again, due to this uncharacteristic wordiness on his part, I answered. I told him: “I used to think of those things too”. And then I said: “But you disappeared and acted like I wasn’t worth even a goodbye. Plus, you have a girlfriend now. I have no place in your life right now even if I wanted to. You hurt me. You never apologized. I’m not interested in someone who treats me like that.”
Again to my surprise, he continued the conversation. In summary, I gave him a piece of my mind, what I felt and what happened from my point of view. He was kind of douchey at first, said I was using the word “girlfriend” too sparingly, but that he did indeed “see someone for some time”, and he gave an incredibly half-assed apology that he recognized sounded like a lame excuse (maybe because it was?). In the end, he called me and I didn’t answer. He said “K. Got it.” I got pissed and said: “If you want to talk to me I will call you on MY time.”
Problem is, I’m a person of my word. And since I said I would call him on my time, I did. The next day, that is. Curiosity killed the cat, basically.
And the conversation was pretty pointless, because although I rehashed in my head time and time again all the things that I wanted to say and ask him, after more than 6 months since we first met he still manages to turn me into a stuttering idiot whenever I hear his voice. The only important bit was that near the end I think he finally realized just how much he hurt me and he said goodbye by retreating slowly like a dog with its tail between its legs.
After I hung up I texted him: “I liked you a lot, but I’m sorry to say you screwed up pretty bad. I’ll only give you a second chance if you earn it.”
Unfortunately, the Russian knows my Achilles. The next day he texts me a link to the soundtrack of a movie we both love (and which, has strangely been a recurring theme in our “relationship” since day one). Ensue conversation where we ended up exchanging youtube clips. And it felt weird in a good way, unfortunately, because it was just like old times.
Then today he texts again. Again conversation just like old times. Again, he always knows my goddamn Achilles.
So, what’s up? What’s going through my head?
He hasn’t earned a second chance. The problem is, I want to give him a second chance. I have decided to proceed with caution. First: he hurt me, and he hasn’t given a satisfying apology for that. Second, I’m not 100% sure he’s single and I refuse to be his rebound that he’ll ghost a second time around. And third, I’m about to begin a new life in a new city and there’s no reason whatsoever for me to tie myself to any particular man, especially a particular man who at some point hurt me. I’m well aware I can catch any damn hot guy I want at the city that I adore (hello, newfound confidence).
However, as is customary with matters of the heart, it’s not that simple. I like the Russian. It’s no secret. And although I might not have posted much about that the past few months, I still think about him almost daily in spite of the hurt (confession!). But, since my head isn’t entirely up my ass right now, I’m trying to just let it flow.
If he earns his second chance then great, and if not, then that’s that. But I’m trying to focus more on what’s happening with me right now.
And so, finally, I get to the part about queefs (I know that’s the sole reason you’re reading this post, don’t deny it).
I was talking to my med school BF today. I told her that “it” happened with Platonic dude the last time I was with him. He didn’t know what queefs were, and I had to awkwardly explain it to him. He was awkwardly disgusted. Something about that always bothered me, but I could never really pinpoint exactly what it was. And then it hit me: it bothered me because first, he’s a doctor, so he should know better, and second…I felt somehow restrained in how bubbly or random I could be with him, something I didn’t feel with the Russian (or Pizza guy). Platonic dude was unexpectedly uptight about things that are all too human, and I’m quite obviously not like that.
And then I thought, the Russian didn’t mind when “it” happened once with him. He said “that’s ok baby” and sex continued like nothing ever happened. He also didn’t mind when I accidentally stained his sheets because I was spotting, something Platonic dude was also disgusted by.
I guess the point I’m trying to make is: if I can be my gross, quirky, and random self with the Russian, then it must mean something.
Granted, in spite of this “queef test”, as my friend jokingly decided to call it, the Russian hasn’t earned his second chance. I still don’t know him enough to give him a full-on second chance.
But it doesn’t stop me from getting to know him. And that’s a start.