Where did I leave off? So things with Justin #2 started out really well. He was acting super into me—calling every night and initiating getting together—and things seemed to be progressing quickly. Unfortunately, things went South equally quickly.

I detected some weirdness when I spoke to him on the phone the night after I went to his apartment and didn’t stay over.  It was good that he called me, “just to say hi,” but the conversation was very brief and he sounded oddly detached. And he didn’t mention anything about getting together over the weekend. It was particularly weird since we’d exchanged some flirty emails during the day at work, and he friended me on Facebook.

I spent all the next day analyzing things in my head and trying to figure out what could have caused the sudden change of attitude, and if I was going to hear from Justin again. It was so distracting that I finally decided to bite the bullet and contact him. I shot him a casual email just to say hello. He replied asking if I was free the next night, which made me think maybe he just needed the reassurance that I was still into him?

That definitely seemed to be the case because later that same night, Justin drunk dialed me wanting to get together. I’m a little embarrassed to admit that I was in a sound slumber at that time (2:30am) on a Friday night, but whatever. I can’t party like a rock star every night.  The first time he called I didn’t answer because, well, I was sleeping.  But then he called again a minute later and I picked up out of curiosity (making sure to remove my retainer).  He didn’t sound drunk but he clearly was, or wouldn’t be calling at that hour requesting that I “come out and meet him.”  And he definitely wouldn’t have said he “didn’t care” when I explained I was unshaven, sporting my high-water plaid pants and an over-sized t-shirt, with zit cream dotting my face.  In retrospect, I probably shouldn’t have been so forthcoming with that info, but I was half asleep and not thinking clearly.

Flash forward to Saturday, the night of our actual planned date. I went over to Justin’s around 7:30.  At his suggestion, we had dinner at a local sushi place and then walked around the city for a while.  As we were walking, he put his arm around me a few times and held my hand, which made me a little uncomfortable (I’m not really a touchy-feely, PDA type person with people I hardly know), but I tried to go with the flow.  On the way back, we stopped at a pub to have a drink.  At one point Justin started talking about South Park, describing an episode where Bono turns out to be a piece of shit.  Literally a piece of shit.  I tried to act engaged at the detailed synopsis, although bathroom humor isn’t one of my biggest turn-ons.  Following our beers and captivating conversation about bodily functions, Justin asked if I wanted to watch a movie at his place. The night was still young so I agreed.  

We actually watched the full movie before getting at all physical. Most guys don’t even wait for the previews to end before they pounce! Once the end credits started rolling, Justin invited me to stay over again.  The truth was I actually wanted to stay but I knew that my staying over implied sex, which I’m not in the habit of engaging in on a second date, call me old fashioned.  Justin’s response to my reservations was “I’m not worried about it,” which struck me as an odd thing to say.  What the hell does that mean?  But I didn’t read much into it and decided, what the hell, I’d stay.  

From that point on, things got increasingly weird.  We got into bed and started hooking up (non  sex hooking up) and I instantly noticed that whatever spark or connection I had previously felt was totally gone. Total 180. The hook up did not last long. After the sub par hook up, Justin mumbled something about it being hot, rolled over and turned his back towards me.  That’s how he stayed until this morning when his cell phone went off, blasting an obnoxious ring tone.

Without a word, Justin got up and disappeared into the other room. When he came back, he was wearing workout clothes and a baseball hat and said he was going to the gym.  No “Would you like a cup of coffee, some breakfast, maybe?” He didn’t even ask if I wanted a freaking glass of water.  Apparently his manners had disappeared overnight along with his interest in me.  

Sensing the extreme awkwardness, I quickly gathered my few things and made sure it wasn’t obvious to the world that I’d just spent the night in some random guy’s bed.  We walked out together and Justin gave me a forced peck on the lips, saying he’d talk to me later.  But the vibe had clearly changed, and I pretty much knew I would not be hearing from him later.

When, as expected, I didn’t hear from him later that night, I shot him an email on Monday to gauge his response.  He responded with the shortest possible answer and didn’t follow it up with any questions to prolong the conversation. So I think it’s pretty safe to say that things with Justin are over.  I know they’d hardly started so I really shouldn’t even care, but I have to admit that I do, and that makes me even more mad.  I hate that I give a shit.  I just really felt something with this guy and allowed myself to get my hopes up.  I should have known better.  You know what they say, things that seem too good to be true usually are.  Well I certainly learned my lesson.