I’m not that into you. I love that sentence. It encapsules perfectly my feelings for one gentleman in particular. (Actually, it’s several gentlemen. Those are other tales to be told.)
I had an on-again, off-again connection with a gentleman called Ung. Ung, if you recall, earned his moniker from the god-awful, ugly-ass necklace he was wearing in a photo he sent to me. Ugly necklace guy so we are clear, shorthanded is ung.
Ung, for those of you unfamiliar or who do not recall, stands tall, approximately 6′2″. He has close-cropped dark brown hair, beautiful blue eyes and completing the trifecta, a beautiful smile. When I look at him, I see a very young Kevin Spacey, which for me is probably 75% of his allure.
From what I know of him, however, he’s no-longer Kevin Spacey-cute. He’s just not cute. He’s self-centered. Sexually, from what I’ve seen, he only thinks of himself. He is not out for his partner’s pleasure; he only seeks his own.
Eight months ago, or thereabouts, we disconnected. The decision was mutual. I expected a lover to care as much about my pleasure as I cared about my partners. I believed that I shouldn’t need to ask for my pleasure when I am with a lover. He disagreed. As much as I love giving my partners pleasure, it cannot always be about them, at least not for me.
Let’s fastforward to Saturday night. I had an IM pop up from someone I don’t know. My given name was used, suggesting they new me, somehow. Turns out, when I looked him up, it was Ung. Luckily, when I received his message, I was away. I replied when he was away, good manners, you see.
I haven’t heard from him since and I don’t want to hear from him again. I’m done with him and frankly, I’m just not that into him.
Listening to…Sugababes: Hole in the Head: Hole in the Head - EP [3:37]
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