A week later I sent him a relatively contentless e-mail, explaining why I was hesitant to e-mail him back, rather than addressing his 5 points…
There are a few reasons I haven’t e-mailed you. Something about this seems so fatalistic. My assumption that this will be our last communication makes it difficult to choose what I want to express, as the contextualization of my words is presumably permanent. I’m slightly uncomfortable with the idea of writing you not having any comprehension of why you would be receptive to hearing from me. Your last e-mail, however rash and hastily written it may have been, conveyed that you don’t respect me and have no interest in continuing to see me. After I told you I would not e-mail you if you were going to be snarky and dismissive, you continued to insult me. In your text message to me, you were petty enough to belittle my mode of communication, continuing the theme of not taking me seriously, being a pedant who values form over content, and shutting me down before giving me the opportunity to make a point. It seems odd that I am the one who is made to be apologetic. You upset me, even if you didn’t mean to, and instead of apologizing and telling me that I misunderstood you, you mocked me for how I received your insensitive and poorly articulated critique. Then, when you revised your statements to constitute a list of your preferences, and my initial impression was that I didn’t know if it was going to work because your preferences are in diametric opposition to mine, you wrote me off as being too immature to take the implication that I wasn’t “so good” at the one thing that defines me, according to you. If you want me to e-mail you so you have more fodder with which to belittle me or so you can self-justify your decision to dismiss me, there is nothing in this for me and I have no interest whatsoever in putting myself out there for your derisive pleasure. When you say you’ll “consider what [I] say,” what exactly will you consider? Do you still have any interest in me are you simply curious why things imploded? What changed so drastically between the time you sent your e-mail that articulated your gripes in such a manner so they were “amenable to fixing” and the time you sent your e-mail that dismissed me? What you stated in the later was bizarre to me, in part, because the former assuaged any insecurities our in-person conversation evoked, in favor of my thinking: ick, not for me!
After three weeks of not seeing you, doing this in writing seems like a silly (is that word too pedestrian for you?), semantic game. Without seeing each other in person to put this into perspective, I’m not sure either of us can properly evaluate this situation. For me, there were numerous factors to consider, I felt extremely conflicted, and, even now, I waver between thinking that I never want to talk to you again and you can enjoy demeaning other girls, and thinking that we liked each other consistently for two month and I did intend to date you so a few paragraphs probably shouldn’t cancel that out. But there still is the sneaking suspicion that you will never take me seriously if you’ve stated that fairly explicitly and treated me accordingly. My continuing to engage with someone who communicates with me in a disrespectful, patronizing, and contemptuous manner will only confirm that I am one not to be taken seriously.
Then there is the topic I broached in my one-sentence e-mail: the sex: can it work knowing what I now know about your preferences? I look to the past and think about how we were both mostly satisfied with the sex before our fateful conversation. But I was satisfied with the sex as it was after let’s say 5-7 times. I would not be satisfied with the sex if it continued on that level indefinitely. What you stated seemed like it could only devolve. For me, at least. I know this is ridiculous, but what I am most concerned about is the cum. Like, out of all the issues discussed in our interactions over the past few weeks, your looking down on me perhaps included, I think I am most concerned about cum incompatibility. You have no idea how important cum is to me: Not to make myself sound like a cum rag and you like a cum-manufacturing machine, but I don’t think I could ever be satisfied in an extended situation with a cum-o-phobe. I appreciate that you are more than happy to “give it to me,” as like a charitable donation or a clean up device or whatever, but that isn’t enough. Cum is more than a mere preference for me. On the other hand, I will never find someone else who is as good at fingering as you are and, by extension, as good at oral sex. I mean, other guys have been good but the fingers make a huge difference. Also, I especially like your body and was getting increasingly attracted to you as I grew accustomed to your smell.
Maybe you think this is laughable and I place a disproportionate importance on the sex because, as an adolescent, I am allegedly obsessed with defining myself by sex or just defining myself in general. I’m not going to deny the importance sex has to me. If you were someone I planned on hooking up with a few times and disposing of, the sex as you wanted it would be fine, the sex as it is now is and would continue to be fine. I wouldn’t expect much and wouldn’t stress a high level of compatibility. All I would need is for the sex to do its job and string me along. But in a prospective relationship I expect a lot more from the sex. I’m not saying that sex is the most important thing in a relationship and that I’d prefer to be with someone who was a good fuck and who was mediocre on some other valued quality than someone who had that quality but was lacking sexually. Ultimately, though, sex is the most important thing: it is the commonality that facilitates everything else—the common goal that holds partners together when other things get tough. Sex is what distinguishes sexual relationships from other modes of interpersonal interaction and if the sex fails, the relationship is doomed.
Sex, as you’ve stated you desire it, would serve only to be a point of contention. I’m not sure how much I’m willing to compromise about the sex. Less, certainly, than I am willing to compromise about other matters. I would like to explain why in detail and cover all of the topics that have arisen over the past few weeks. I don’t think written word is the appropriate format to discuss subjects that are physical in nature, and after three weeks of not seeing you, I’ve become so detached from how I felt spending time with you, that anything I could say would be almost irrelevant. I’m not open to continuing this conversation in any medium, though, if you persist in placing blame on and deferring issues to me without acknowledging that our dynamic, including aspects that you bring to it, contributes to my dissatisfaction across all of the areas that I complained about, regardless of whether I have inadvertently misinterpreted your intentions.
If you simply have no interest in me, I can self-justify by telling myself that even without the recent e-mail communication, I think this only had a shelf life of another few weeks. I’m confused as to why you wanted to keep seeing me if after two months you had no interest in dating me exclusively. I understand the sentiment that you didn’t think we were at that point yet (actually, I don’t understand this sentiment given the circumstances and I don’t think any self-respecting girl would tolerate letting things run much past two months), and that people have different levels of comfort when it comes to how quickly things progress. What I don’t understand, at all, even a little bit, is that you told me you felt the same way about me three weeks ago when we had this conversation as when you met me—you liked me then. If you continue to feel the exact same way about me, why would you expect it to change in the impending future? If, after two months, you aren’t interested in me, I doubt I have whatever it is you are looking for. Maybe I like you more than you like me. If this is the case, fine. I get it, and I can get over it. But don’t waste my time and don’t lead me on. Now I am merely disappointed; I don’t want things to develop if this isn’t going anywhere for you.
I wish you didn’t end communications with such antagonism. It certainly doesn’t make me think highly of you. I was sad and wistful about what I assumed was an imminent end, until being the recipient of your petty nastiness at which point I felt like, thanks for weeding yourself out. After pondering this for a week, though, and going back and forth, I’m not sure what to think anymore. Mostly I think this is a semantic game and we might as well see what it is like in person. It was working up until this point. There’s something bizarre about how a few e-mails and extended time with no face-to-face contact can distort the prominence of isolated issues, due to the relative permanence of words and the lack of anything else to counterbalance them. I wish you had called me back when I had texted you last weekend (which I did to see if it was too late to call you), so we could have already worked this out. I was mostly happy with you until I processed that fateful conversation. From my experience, two months is usually the time at which things implode. Sometimes they are salvageable and working things out is a bonding process. Other times you can self-justify the end and turn people into legendary figures on a blog.
Over the past week it has proved nearly impossible for me to disentangle whether I was upset by the incendiary accusations you made about me because I don’t like being misjudged or whether I was upset about being dumped because I actually liked you and thought that it was working before we started discussing how things were going. I’m no longer upset, partially because it is difficult for me to sustain emotion over periods of time without additional input and partially because the three-week mark has met me with a sense of resignation. Now all I think is: what a shame.