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Cute Boy Person: When All You Have is a Hammer

everything looks like a fail. Don't panic; I'm busy panicking for you and everything's fine. Tonight Cute Boy Person said "I need a hammer. And I don't mean my penis!" He was definitely in the dildo drawer while I was in the other room and couldn't warn him. He moved that dresser and the drawer was ajar. The aforementioned naughty thing that I discovered was on top of the porn with other toys sticking out underneath.

We had drinks over dinner. A topic came up that...

I was comfortable. I said some things tonight that made me vulnerable. I don't know if he realized that I told him a secret. When we got home, I told him some more. I hadn't had alcohol in a while. It seemed like the thing to do at the time was to open some of the bad boxes in my brain and hand him a flashlight. Maybe he realized because he reciprocated.


I kept telling myself, "tonight I'll tell him that I want to kiss him. This is stupid. We need to get past this. And I'm tipsy! What could go wrong?" Well, what could go wrong is that I changed the situation from "being scared that he wouldn't say no fast enough" to "being scared that he would say no." And scared that he would say yes. And scared.

When it got late, I stood at the door waiting for him to grab his bag to leave, waiting for him to pass by me and give me a hug. I intended to say something. We made plans for tomorrow. It was my last chance for the night.

I didn't take it. And then I kicked myself. And then I called myself a fool over and over, stupid Voice in My Head. But he was driving to his apartment and it would take 15 or 20 minutes to get there, so I put an end to it.


I sent him a text: "I feel stupid doing this but I don't know how to read you and I really want to kiss you but I don't know if you're amenable to that, so think about it and I'll see you tomorrow." I feel like such a chicken.


You know how it is when you're afraid that you might pressure someone: you want to offer them something easier than what you really want. I offered him time to think about how to react but what I wanted was for him to text me back a "duh" or an "I'll bring my hammer," or even better, to turn the car around. That was three hours ago.

I don't like vulnerable. I don't like hitting on guys via text. I don't like waiting. I feel like a failure. I panicked. I took a pill.


I wish I could write something funny. Funny things happened. He dropped Nad's and I asked if he was 12. (Nose wax? Really? Trimmers aren't enough? Nose hair is good for you! This product is wrong. (This was not the Nad's product that he dropped.))We found a mouse that apparently committed suicide and discussed at length his reasons and his last words.


Instead, I refused to check for new messages for 2 hours, checked because my phone was blinking, discovered that my phone was blinking for a reason other than a new message, stopped panicking long enough to start crying and now, with the pill on full effect, I'm going to bed.

Goodnight moon. Goodnight Beyonce the Giant Metal Chicken. Goodnight internet. Sleep tight. I'll most likely kill you in the morning.

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