Dear guy I’ll be dating,
You don’t have a name or a face yet, you may have several soon. You don’t know me, and still won’t when we have
sex, or hold hands, or have dinner with your parents. You will think you do. Or you won’t care. You will fall in love, which is okay. Or you will fuck me and then take a leave, which is okay too.
If I feel like having sex with you on the first date, I will. But only if I know that you’re as open-minded as I am, otherwise words
like easy and whore come to mind, no logic needed. But then again, if you assume I’m a slut just because I like you and want your business
in my business, then you’re not worth having my attention for more than a night. Even less.
If I feel like texting/calling you, I will. Even if it’s “your turn” to do so. I don’t play games, I don’t follow rules. I do things as I feel them right.
If you’re sick/not feeling well, I’ll bring you soup and take care of you. No matter if we’ve been seeing each other for a week or a
month. I’ll cover you with a blanket and lay next to you, keep you company. I’ll check your temperature and probably feed you, if you’re
that unwell. I may be acting like your mother, but I’m sure you’d appreciate all the non-motherly things I’ll do to make you feel better.
When I’m dating you, I’m dating only you. Will appreciate it if you do the same, but will not make it a matter of life and death.
I’ll be awkward. I’ll do and say things I probably shouldn’t, but I won’t regret them afterwards. I’ll try to be funny and may not
always succeed. You don’t have to laugh at my jokes, though it will be nice if you do.
I will be good to you. Please, be good to me too.
The girl sitting in the corner
M. Stefanova, 2013.