siri play friday by rebecca black

Behind the unpacked bags in my closet that sit below the flowing dresses I hope to wear one day, sat a wrinkled green shirt. I have moved a few times in this past year, so everything in my closet has yet to find its home. This shirt must have made its way from one of the many bags to the dirty dark floor all alone. I wonder if it was the universe telling me to write about this shirt, this boy, this time in my life. Or it was just an accident due to my lack of packing skills. Either way, it got me thinking about this shirt, and of course the boy who once owned this shirt, before it became mine. It was back in Boston when this shirt took my life by surprise. I had recently been a fiend for the dating apps. Tinder, Bumble, Hinge. (Not Raya obviously but for the stories, for the fun, if anyone wants to get ya girl on there, let me know, I need to be telling John Mayer he is NOT my type at least once in my life ya know?) The apps were huge in my friend group, we wanted guys and girls to sleep with. To use for a night, to treat them like they were a gem that had yet to be found in the world, then never see their names pop up in our minds again. I of course, as you all may know sucked at the whole dating app game, I could give you all many a stories of my failed tries at fucking and dumping, but first we can start with the green shirt. You know that joke that everyone makes about staying away from guys with names that start with J? Well Green Shirt Boy, his name started with a god damn J. First red flag I should've listened to (for MANY reasons this is just a joke CALM DOWN). So the Green Shirt Boy and I started talking and boy was he cute. He wasn’t just cute though, he was charming. He had this little sly smile he made in pictures that only tempted me to go on a date with him rather than a night under my sheets. I though was not on a path to romance, merely a path to destruction. By that I mean, I already knew I was bad at putting feelings aside, yet continued to pretend as though my heart was made of stone  in order to accomplish some bullshit fantasy of no strings attached winner at the dating app game. I was poorly mistaken. 

The night we first met, I remember clearly, somehow. I had started working at my first law firm, so to accomplish my feeling of “I am an adult”, I bought a bottle of some cheap red wine, and settled down on the porch by myself. As I am sitting there, carelessly throwing back glasses like a frat boy trying to “slap the bag” I of course start to get tipsy. Now Green Shirt Boy had been asking to go on a date, of fucking course, but I had my mind made up. If I were to hang with this boy, it would be in my bedroom, in my bed, clothes hopefully torn off one another and scattered on the floor. I don’t need him to buy me dinner and walk me home, hell no. So my tipsy red lips sneakily smile as I text him to ask him what he was doing. 

“Just playing basketball which I am absolutely horrible at, you?” he said within a second of my text sending. 

A little back and forth before he texts, “I am here”, and I scurry down the steps to go let him in. I open the door and there he is, 6’3, (tall mother fucker), in a light green t-shirt, and black pants, and that sly little smile on his face. We hug, go upstairs and sit down in my room with glasses of wine held tightly between our hands. We are talking for AWHILE, and I almost forgot what my goal was (ya know to get this boy out of his clothes and into my bed). As he speaks he makes funny expressions with each word that bounce off of his tongue. He places his hand on my leg in between sentences. He bites his lip and laughs when I tell a joke (which was probably not funny then nor now). He then places his glass of wine on the baby blue table, slowly takes mine to do the same, then gently pushes me back so my head falls onto the pillow as his body gets on top of mine. 

Success! (well sorta, I’ll explain don’t you worry). 

I wake up the next morning, the topless tall boy still in my bed, that green shirt on the floor on top of his shoes, and a sense of accomplishment running through my veins. I sneak out of bed, in just my little red underwear and throw on a shirt from my drawer, before sneaking out of the room to get some fresh air. I looked over my balcony at the busy people on that Saturday morning, wondering why they were up so early. The fresh air hit my face like the first jump into the ocean after a long clothed winter. I closed my eyes as the wind pushed my hair back when all of a sudden his body wrapped around me, and his lips kissed the top of my head. He held onto me as we talked about how beautiful the day was, and though Boston had its flaws, there was nothing like a nice spring day there. Eventually he left, with his green shirt and all and I sat in bed, thinking about the night before when all of a sudden I remembered parts of the night I must have forgotten. He didn’t cum. I mean yeah drinking sometimes effects this, or nerves, but the sex was pretty good, I thought. Not only did the big O not happen for our dear Green Shirt Boy, but he also had some weird pillow talk. He kept saying “you are so hot, you are so beautiful, way too hot for me.” The first two lines he spouted, like hell yes my king, tell me I’m fucking hot, but then that last line I didn’t like. Why would he say that? It wasn’t just once either, he said it when we weren’t even in bed yet, constantly talking about my looks and how he wondered why I “swiped right on him.” Ohhhh the romance… 

I stopped thinking about it because of course I love red flags, but also because I didn’t really plan to see him again. He though had other plans in mind. He texted me the rest of the weekend and into the week wanting to take me out to dinner, or to go to a park and have a picnic. ALL the stuff that made my heart weak. I of course say yes, only thinking about the good parts of our first encounter. This date turns into 7 more, and eventually we are what they like to call “dating.” This kid wasn’t my boyfriend, don’t worry, but we were dating, or going on dates, whatever you’d like to call it. Dinner, the movies, parks, the beach, the whole throttle. There were really fun and good times, and of course more red flags I chose to ignore. One of which was when we went to go see a movie, the boy didn’t order anything, no popcorn, no lemonade, no chocolate! What kind of psychopath doesn’t order popcorn at a movie? I know, I know, a BIG red flag over here, should've dropped his ass the second I heard this one. 

Eventually we were seeing each other a lot, in and out of the bedroom and in that whole time, (ended up being I think like 6 fucking months) only twice did he ever cum. This lack of umm… finishing, didn’t sit right with me. We had sex a lot.. And twice?  That just didn’t make sense to me. I started to think it was ME. So my drunk ass one night asks him all sheepishly… “is it meeeee?” Obviously he said no. I mean even if it was me, he probably still would've said no. He ended up explaining he was just nervous and had masturbated earlier blah blah blah. I ended up kinda pretending it didn’t matter, though it made me think my sex game was not as wonderful as I thought it was.  I mean if this was a him issue, that is fine, not shaming him, but like tell me? I don’t know… 

So instead of hyperfocusing on his lack of ejaculation, I moved on to the next red flag. He wouldn’t meet anyone in my life. Everytime I invited him to meet friends or to parties he would say no, people I am sure started thinking the guy didn’t even exist. I mean my god damn roommate who barely left our house hadn’t even met him. I didn’t say anything, which I definitely should have and he continued to bail on me if anyone else was in the picture. Then weirdly, out of left field, he asks me to come over to his place to meet the people in his life. Now, this didn’t mean meeting his dirty ass 20 something year old roommates in some nasty mission hill apartment, he lived with his parents…. So this meant meeting his parents? I was shocked. I mean the kid shivered at the thought of meeting my roommates, but wanted me to meet his parents? What the fuck? I though, loving every second of this invitation said uhhhh yes absolutely, show me your mother, let's see your childhood traumas and baby pictures on display. He picks me up in his MOMS car, weird, and starts talking about his family, and how crazy and fun they are. He holds my hand and smiles at me, almost as excited at this next step as I was.  I don’t know if he could tell but holy shit I was shaking in my high waisted jeans. We pull up to this cute white house, across the street from a cemetery.. He, the comedian he claimed to be, of course made some jokes about death and playing in the cemetery as a kid that were not funny I might add but I of course laughed like a damn hyena. We walk in and… no one was there. Silence echoes off the car keys he drops on the wooden table by the door. He texts his mom, and supposedly they left for the weekend randomly? There I am standing in a room full of pictures of Green Shirt Boy throughout his elementary years, as he tries to explain to me what happened. So my first thought was, oh he’s gonna kill me. Second thought, more realistic, (i guess) was mmm he lied just to get me to come over? But nothing really made sense. I mean he clearly didn’t kill me, but it was weird, it still is weird. Why lie? You could've told me your family was gone for the weekend and we could have the place to ourselves instead of trying to silence our voices and the creek of my bed frame so my roommates didn’t kill me. I felt uneasy and honestly annoyed. Instead of leaving, instead of finally realizing the red flags outweighed any bit of awe I had for this boy. I stayed. 

We make dinner, we talk, laugh, have a great time. He starts saying shit how he bets I have a ton of guy friends who all want to fuck me. It was out of the blue, and odd. I mean we were just previously talking about my job, and then you say this shit? I mean what? I didn’t know what to say besides awkwardly laugh and take another sip of the lukewarm beer he gave me. I look back and wish I had spoken up for myself a bit more and not let his insecurities make me feel bad about myself. He then brought up the fact that one of my roommates was a boy, and asked if we had ever fucked. Did I say something? Did I shut him down? Nope… just laughed along and said “ew no…” Fuck man.  Just thinking about this makes me angry. So then of course, though my gut was telling me to run, we walked upstairs together and into his room which felt like I was in a movie about a shy high school boy. 

Things start getting hot and heavy, and he turns on this playlist he called “sexy time”. I actually just gagged writing this. Anyways, we’re making out, clothes thrown onto his bed, on the floor, the lights are out, when all of a sudden, he is literally inside of me, and the song Friday by Rebecca Black comes on. I laugh and expect him to go change it. Instead he picks up his pace and sings along as hes fucking me… I quickly make him stop and sit up with the blanket covering my body. I look back at him and he looks confused as to why I wanted to stop. I mean nothing against the queen Miss. Rebecca Black, but that song? Really? During this moment? No. Not really turned on by a nasally 13 year old girl screaming “Friday” in my ear. 

He of course gets all weird and angry. Literally angry. Then looks me dead in the eye and says “we get it, you are too good for me, too fucking hot, go fuck some of your hotter guy friends.” Now I didn’t realize me not wanting to fuck to this song was so awful of me, but he rolls over, closes his eyes and doesn’t speak to me the rest of the night. I felt bad. I wasn’t judging him, I just wasn’t that comfortable or into it. I laughed at the song, not him. I stopped because it got weird, but I wasn’t making fun of him. All these thoughts circled my head as I slept next to him with my back to his. I fucked up, I thought. I probably acted like the whole time I was judging him and felt better than him. Which was not the case. I liked this guy, despite some of the weird comments he made. I did like him. 

I bet you’re wondering why I didn’t leave. At this point in time I was a little tipsy, three towns over from where I lived, and the uber was $40. Yes I was working at a law firm, but I was making $11 an hour… minimum wage??? Nope. But that’s a whole other story. 

So the next day, we wake up and he acts like nothing happened. He kisses me and we roll around in bed for a bit. I though, was still clinging to our uncomfortable moment the night before and couldn’t let it go. So I asked him if he was okay and apologized. He laughs it off and says he was just a little drunk and apologizes to me. He had maybe two beers tops… but okay? So then he says we should make breakfast, but my shirt is nowhere to be found. I am searching everywhere and the damn cute ass shirt I was wearing seemingly was a mystery I would never figure out. Much like this whole entire “relationship.” So instead he grabs a shirt from his drawer, the green shirt he wore the first day I met him and throws it at me. I put it on and smiled at him. It smelled like him and it brought me back to that first night which I chose to remember as a good time in this whole thing. We go downstairs, and he asks me what I want for breakfast, before his phone starts to ring. It’s his mom, telling him she’s coming back. He hangs up and says that we have to go. No breakfast I guess? 

He rushes me out of the house, almost in a panic, we hop in the car and drive off to my house. I was staring at the window before we pulled up to my street, while his hand was on my leg, thinking about the fact that he clearly had no intention of me meeting his parents. It was all so odd and weird and I had no clue what was going on. Instead of asking him, I just ignored it. Which is not the way to go. If something is bothering you, if something just isn’t adding up, say something. There is no point in staying silent, especially in situations like this. Relationships, whether they are small or short, need communication, which this one, whatever it was, clearly lacked. He pulls up in front of my house and tells me he had a really good time, and how he wants to take me out this week to his favorite restaurant. I smile at him, though in the back of my head I didn’t feel right. He kissed me on my lips, a small and gentle kiss before I got out of his car and he drove away. 

Weeks later, I hear nothing from him. No texts, no snapchats, nothing. He always texted me so much these past 6 months and now nothing? I mean sure, with all the weird moments and red flags I could’ve just let it lie, could’ve just let him go, but we all know I wouldn’t do that. I end up texting him and ask him how he is/if everything is okay. Two days later and still no texts back. I got drunk that weekend and send him the classic “okay?” and finally he texts me back . Saying all sorts of bullshit about me making fun of him for not finishing, about making fun of him in bed, about how I was never wet enough during sex which meant I wasn’t attracted to him. And alllll more nasty stuff that I won’t repeat. 

I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t think I did any of these things. In fact, I know I didn’t. The only time I ever brought up the “cumming situation” was because I was insecure! I wasn’t even rude about it unlike he just was to me. I started spiraling in my thoughts about what I had done wrong and how I hurt his feelings. When in reality this was not entirely my fault. Sure, there were times I didn’t speak up for myself at his annoying comments, or questioning some of his actions, but I never tried to hurt his feelings. He never talked to me about any comments I made or didn’t make or ever say anything about feeling insecure or upset about situations. He tried to make me feel bad when in reality I had no reason to know he was hurting because he never told me. 

I responded saying that we should meet up and talk and he just never responded. A full month goes by and he never texts back. Then finally... I am pissed. I had been ghosted and he freaked out on me when I didn’t deserve that. I deserved a real explanation, not some attack on everything I did wrong in his eyes. I wish I realized that this was absolutely for the better, this kid was not right for me, and I had my doubts since day one, but my ego was not ready to be hit with a ghost. So I text him this long ass paragraph explaining basically that if he didn’t like me he could've just told me instead of ghosting and being ~mean~. So he hits me back with this, he apologizes and says “ I did like you, I do like you, but I am not ready for a relationship and I realized that with you. Clearly I am too immature and insecure and was getting too jealous. I hated how pretty you were and the fact that you had all these guy friends in your life (which I might add were mostly all gay men but sure…) and I just cannot be in a relationship right now without working on myself blah blah more bullshit. 

I didn’t text him back after this, I got the closure I needed. Though I did actually like him and see past some of the weird shit that he did, there were a bunch of red flags that I ignored. 

This wasn’t about some guy who wouldn’t cum, or some guy who clearly was turned on by Rebecca Black, or the fact that you shouldn’t ghost, or even some green shirt that for some reason I still have. This is about the fact that maybe in a way  he was right. If you or someone is insecure and not ready for a relationship, then don’t be in a relationship. That is a valid excuse, that is a real and true excuse. He wasn’t ready to be in a relationship and his insecurities got in the way of something that could have maybe been good (probably not). He made me feel like I was the problem, when really it was his own stuff he had to deal with. I mean he shouldn’t have ghosted me this is true, but from the beginning he should have been upfront and communicated these things to me and I would’ve understood. That’s hard though. It’s hard to be upfront about your feelings and emotions, but if you want a relationship to work, that's what you need to do. Instead of getting mad at me about having a guy roommate or the many other reasons he liked to shit on me, he should’ve explained these things to me.

There were many things that both of us could've done better, and I actively now am working on those things in my current relationship. Communicating and being honest and confronting situations is key to making things work. Green Shirt Boy and I did not do those things, and it did not work. That being said, there were many other reasons it didn’t work, but that was a huge part of it. Speak up for yourself, tell someone the truth and how you really feel. The worst thing that could happen, and I mean the worst, is that they don’t like what you have to say. If they leave you for admitting something you are feeling, you are better off without them. As for Green Shirt Boy, we ended up becoming sorta friends throughout the rest of the year, seeing him now and again for a drink. Then within 3 months of us “ending things” he had a new girlfriend. At first I was upset because I mean, oh you are not ready for a relationship or just not one with me? But then I realized it was just not worth being upset over and I dodged a damn bullet. He is with a girl whom I hope he actually communicates with and I am here about to go to good will to get rid of this green shirt and the boy who once owned it, while listening to Friday by Rebecca Black and knowing at least I’ll have a funny story I can tell people about the most awkward sex I have ever had.