“I like you.”
The last time a boy told me that, we were on our third date. We were sitting on stools at the bar facing each other, he leaned in to kiss me, and then made the most adorable, bashful face I’d ever seen. “Peter is so my boyfriend,” I thought, and commended myself on being so awesome.
It was clear, wasn’t it? He’d already started using terms of endearment (“kiddo,” “my girl,” “cutie”), made intense eye contact during sex (and insisted on cuddling afterward), and referenced events way down the road that he said, “we should go to.” We.
Then, it was if a light switch went off in his brain. By week four, he was done. And not because anything went wrong. He just lost interest. Keep reading »