Make Him Worship You

“You’re so beautiful,” John would text me out of nowhere in the middle of the day.

A smile would bloom on my face.

I’d blush. I’d feel this heat in my chest and this wonderful, terrible hope growing in me. I’d feel myself start to fall…

“I could fall in love with you,” he whispered after the first time we “made love,” “had sex,” “hooked up.”

Whatever you want to call it, it was amazing.

I wanted him from the very first moment we met, but I made him wait. I wanted him to feel like he “earned” me.

But it was our fourth date and we were kissing on the couch…

And I inhaled the good masculine smell of him and felt the strength in his arms…

And I felt so safe and protected and desired…

And afterwards we lay there tangled in each other.

He ran his fingers through my hair…

As I lay my head against his chest and listened to his heartbeat, I let myself believe in some way that maybe, just maybe, it was beating for me…Sally, whose idea of a “successful relationship” was a guy remembering her name after a one-night stand, or paying for the Uber ride home.

She showed up with ice cream and bad advice 33 minutes after I texted her.

“The guy you want, Kate? He doesn’t EXIST. You would have found him by now.”

“You’re better off just being alone.”

I lay there that night, hugging my pillow.

Alone. Just like she said.

Feeling a raw wound where all my hope used to be.

Thinking about Bill who I met at a drunken party back in college.

Or Mark from work who chased me and chased me until I finally agreed to go out with him. We had three dates and then he wouldn’t talk to me and never looked me in the eye again.

Or Chris who I was even engaged to. Who I spent 5 years with, only 2 of which were any good… because I didn’t want to be alone.

So I lay in bed staring at the ceiling and feeling the tub of ice cream rumble in my belly, and the nausea in my heart…

I thought about starting over again and wanted to sob…

Going on “Tinder” or “OK Cupid” or whatever weird dating “app” people were using these days since no guys actually just walked up and asked you out anymore.

And I thought about John. And how sincere he had seemed.

And how you couldn’t fake looking at at a woman like that.

And wondering… what happened?

Wondering why he pulled away.

Wondering what I could do to make him want me again…

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