She got in touch with him via Facebook Messenger for seeking some advice. He was a college mate, but they had barely spoken to each other before. She knew him from an ad hoarding outside her college. The ad featured his picture, name, and score obtained in the GMAT. Oh, who am I kidding? She already knew him by sight. They studied different branches of engineering under the same department at college. Well, it won’t be an exaggeration to call him known worthy and famous inside the college. Why? Because he made it to one of the top tier Business Schools in India, ISB, Hyderabad. She was almost in awe of this guy who she thought was living the life of her dreams. She was curious to know everything about ISB, the mix of subjects taught, the class diversity, the faculties and, whatnot.
She texted him, and I quote, “I know we don’t know each other, and this text is quite random to have appeared out of nowhere. But I want to know about the specialisation and electives you have taken at ISB.” He replied quite concisely in six words. Probably, he was tired of repeating the same details over and over again to everyone who asked him similar questions. She had a strong impulse to ask him about his journey of making it to ISB and the harsh reality of living through it, and his then life at ISB and the trials and tribulations that came with it. But this scantiness in his words didn’t fly well with her, so she retreated from conversing further and abruptly ended it with a polite ‘Thanks, Goodbye’ gesture. That’s quite typical of her; she could never have a conversation with someone she liked without acting cold as an attempt at concealing her true feelings. But he engaged her again; while this time instead, he tried to hit on her! She thought to herself, “Oh, boy! ISB maintains a good sex ratio in the classes, unlike IITs. So, it mustn’t be a question of availability of the opposite sex but choice.” Also, it’s quite unlikely for a guy to want to flirt with a girl who lived 1500 km away, especially when he attended classes with Miss India every other day.
Anyway, she already found him too cute to not flirt in response. She still remembered his smile from the time she shook his hand, congratulating him on his GMAT score. That baby-like smile could melt her any day. There was something about him that attracted her. Well, not to my surprise, he was brainy, and he looked quite mushy. On top of that, he was a bibliophile. And bibliophiles worked as switches for transforming her into the Heart-Eyes emoji.
Also, he wasn’t a stranger, which favoured his chances with her. He was a flatmate of one of her good friends from college. Two years before, she was at her friend’s place with her then-boyfriend. At the time, he didn’t take any notice of her. He neither acknowledged her presence nor made an effort to strike a conversation. She didn’t like that she didn’t have the slightest of his attention. And the whole deal with girls is that they don’t like creeps ogling them as much as they don’t like cute guys unstirred by their presence; it almost makes them feel like an inconspicuous backdrop amidst a beautiful wedding. It was quite painfully clear that she liked him.
But quite interestingly now, he was interested in her. He shared a picture of a pile of books that he had to finish studying that week. And then, he made it clear that he wished to procrastinate. Why? Because of course, he wanted to prioritize her at the moment over something he could finish later. Whoa! This declaration made her heart almost skip a beat. She couldn’t help procrastinating her studies in response and decided to indulge herself in the conversation further. Having her full attention, he couldn’t have been more proactive. He said, and I quote, “Tell me about your dreams.” And she thought to herself, “That was such a personal and profoundly open looped question; it could break ground for this conversation to scale to something big.” But she didn’t have her life sussed out by then. She was only starting to get real with herself about her career; nevertheless, she painted quite an exuberant picture there, yet a fuzzy one. She said, “I wish to get admitted to ISB, and with some networking, I have to incubate my startup there. And I know I will. What are your dreams?” There she might have risked looking a little haughty and defensive, but she only faked the childish confidence to sound like she had all her ducks in a row. She put up this strong front to hide her insecurities about herself because she feared if that perfect GMAT score would ever be hers someday. To her question, he quickly replied how he identified his life goals, interests & thoughts of not getting married before his 30s, and then, he shifted gears and made a vague attempt at discussing his fantasies.
She felt a little uncomfortable by his uncalled-for venture. She politely interrupted him to make sure if she understood it right. He said, and I quote, “I exactly mean what you understood.” Instead of restraining him, she merely asked him to slow down because she didn’t want to appear uncool. As they say, there is more than one way to skin a cat. Instead of slowing down, he rather displayed the nonchalance of asking about her fantasies playfully. He made it seem trivial, but she didn’t wish to take the plunge.
There he stepped over a line, but did she stop him? No! How could she at the cost of losing his attention for good? Instead, she dodged the question and asked him to finish his sensual tale. As he gradually unfolded his fantasy layer-by-layer, she cringed a bit, yet she made sure to participate with monosyllabic replies. She had a weakness; you could arouse interest in her with your way of writing. To his advantage, he excelled at articulation. He wildly wielded his way through calling out to her wild side. He drew her in with immaculate words to ease her into fantasizing, and that made her panties quite slimy. He expressed a perfect mix of the two most all-consuming forces in her life – sex and literature; these defined her shadow self. He knew how to be figurative while talking dirty. He said, and I quote, “My thick stem longs to be ridden like a horse ferociously with my lioness bouncing on top and moaning loudly with oomph.” He knew how to work his way around to advancing amorously with the right metaphors.
Nevertheless, I saw it for what it was: He was sexting her already at the pretence of sharing his fantasy. First, he manipulated her into believing that it was a conversation between two consenting adults that she shouldn’t diss. And then, he started working his magic on making her juices flow. His lustful written pieces were nothing but a means to an end. I warned her, “That’s a big red flag!”
Any self-respecting woman wouldn’t entertain it, but the reverse of it isn’t true. Sometimes, a woman lowers her standards to fit a man she likes too much into her life. And she wasn’t thinking straight. Who could even blame her? He was quite the writing wizard cum player, and he nailed erotic literature like no one she knew before. Damn! For her, he was on point. Either that or she put him on a pedestal and saw everything through rose-coloured glasses. Her insatiable desire for his attention got the better of her. But she wasn’t a novice. I thought she would come through this unscathed with a swift hit of reality. Come on! She knew he was coming on to her a little too outrageously for the first day. A guy sexting a girl the same day she exchanged a few texts with him for the first time is the grossest move from the playbook “How to Get Laid FAST.”
She had idolized him even before her first text landed at his chat window because of his blinding GMAT score of 800/800. It would have taken something huge to shift her paradigm of thought about him. Getting his attention lured her to find happiness in the bliss of her ignorance. She knew she was blind-sighted by his overwhelming attractiveness, but she couldn’t care less for the heat of the moment was overbrimming.
I would tell her, “Don’t go with the flow, no matter how thrilling and fun it seems. More often than not, the most unhealthy things are the most fun.” But she loved living on the edge, she loved adventure, and she loved the element of the cliffhanger. She loved the idea of a new romance, and she loved the excitement of it more than she cared about how long it would last. In my best capacity, I tried to dissuade her.
Any personal relationship is like a work commitment. If you don’t have clarity of your goals and objectives, it’s going to crash.
To many, love is blinding. But to her, the idea of love itself was dangerous enough.
To the readers, I clarify that I don’t exemplify doublethink by accepting that he was playing with her and she knew what he was doing halfway to be able to stop him, but she chose to dumb herself down to keep receiving his attention. They were both moving towards a slippery slope.
Well, that was quite an ugly first impression. I expected more from an ISBian and less from a girl who dealt with low self-esteem issues. In our 21st century lingo, we call guys like that, FUCKBOYS. But was she even listening to me? Nay. He kept amusing her with his detail-driven fantasy throughout the night until she gave in. Of course, he desired to get into her pants by his ostentatious storytelling. He laid the trap. Boom! She dived right into his bait. How? By fantasizing about him and taking guilt-free pleasure in pleasuring herself. Ah! There she committed a blunder by wanting to actualize the idea, “Could this be us?”, masked in and implanted by his fantasy. He put dirty talk to good use and made himself even more desirable. He had impassioned her with an ever-so lingering thought. She now wondered if the coitus with him would be as good as his fantasy. That was that. You wouldn’t believe what happened next.
Acronym/Abbreviations used:
GMAT: Graduate Management Admission Test
ISB: Indian School of Business
IIT: Indian Institute of Technology
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IG: @crazygirlwonders
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