“There are all kinds of love in this world but never the same love twice.”
 -F. Scott Fitzgerald

-

My friends always tell me that I'm being too picky--and I know I've said this five hundred times, but there's just this spark that has to be there. I'll stop myself here, because I've talked about what I'm exactly looking for, in extensive detail before (WHAT I'M LOOKING FOR, EXACTLY).

And sure, maybe my standards are high, but they don't call it one in a million for nothing. It's not easy to find, and even though some days I just want to give up, and be a millennial spinster that bakes oatmeal cranberry chocolate chip toffee bit cookies all day and watch Netflix, somehow I keep on going. It's probably because past the spicy, sassy, loud, brazen, bold as fuck, no nonsense, boss ass bitch exterior, there is still that girl who believes in soul mates and forever. Deep, deep, deep inside. Like, waaaay deep.

And it's also probably because minus the bad parts, I've met some pretty great guys. In the least embarrassing way I can phrase this, there's three types of exes you can have. There are guys like Haz, where you have just completely forgotten about them and their existence, and only remember them if they're brought up for some reason. There are guys that you think about regularly, individuals that have profoundly touched you (maybe physically if you get all sexually, but mostly emotionally- ha!) and that you share fond memories with. And then there's the assholes like Chuck Cuevas that are pieces of shit, and never deserved your attention or love. Assholes.

And the people that made you so happy, that you drifted away from, and weren't total shits are the best. They're the best because you can remember the fond memories you shared, and the unique experiences that you had with them. Kind of like that old grandma at the end of Edward Scissorhands. Or the old lady in Titanic.

God, I just cringed for a brief moment imagining myself as a grandmother in a floral cardigan telling my grandkids about the time Jake Reagan showed up with a six pack of PBR, and how we laid and talked and got drunk. And then later, Kayresia called me as I was getting smashed from behind!

The weekend that Chuck showed up drunk and projectile vomited everywhere, the infamous weekend where he became my boyfriend... that weekend almost didn't happen. Instead of staying home that weekend, I almost went to Milwaukee to see Jake. Sometimes, I wonder what could've happened, what should've happened, and what almost was. Especially now that I know what happened instead.

I try to convince myself that things would have been the same, and that Chuck and I would have gotten together, even if I had left that weekend. But who knows? And sometimes when I wonder, it scares me. It scares me because of what happened with Derek, and how the fantasy was far better than the reality--and it also scares me, because I could have been madly in love with Jake and been hurt fifteen times worse (although nothing in my entire life hurt as much as Chuck did--that hurt more than anything I could have imagined or wished upon my worst enemy).

This doesn't mean that the time Chuck and I spent together meant nothing, or that I didn't love Chuck. I did--just in a different way than I loved Jake. Sometimes I'm scared that I'll always love both of them a (tiny, tiny, tiny) little bit, more so Chuck. But the thing is, the two types of love I had for both of them were completely different, because they're so completely different.

I fell in love with Jake Reagen spontaneously--it was all at once, and completely unexpected. I fell in love with him, the way he laughed, and the way he looked at me, as we talked all night until the crack of dawn. I fell in love with him fast as hell, and I dove straight into it, fearless and carefree. I didn't worry about my heart, or the walls I had put up, I just let myself fall, and go all in. I loved how spontaneous he was, and how everything with him was always carefree. I loved how he called me Smalls, and how he was just so easy to talk to, and so easy to spend time with. How he was always full of energy, and full of life. He was crazy and ridiculous, but he was always real and genuine.

I fell in love with Chuck in time, more and more each and every day. I discovered new things that I loved about him each and every day, and he made me feel safe and secure. He always could tell if something was bothering me, and he always knew how to make me laugh. And even though he was a sociopath and liar with narcissistic tendencies that emotionally manipulated me, and treated me like shit, in the beginning he was my favorite person in the entire world. He was my world. I usually don't think about it, but I sometimes I wonder how someone that made me feel so safe and secure, someone that I trusted so much, could be the person that let me down the most, and hurt me more than everyone else combined.

The last person that I felt sparks for was Rafael--not the Rafael now, but the Rafael that I first met. The one who wasn't a total shit and a complete asshole.

When Rafael and I first matched, we clicked. We talked nonstop and he made me laugh. He was sweet and funny, sarcastic and stubborn, and somehow we just complemented each other. Of course, he's still funny (sometimes), and always sarcastic and stubborn now, but it's different now. Now that we've gotten to know each other, I'm just not romantically interested in him, and he's also not sweet or that funny anymore. But when I first met him, there was instant chemistry and instant sparks, which is also why he is the last person I slept with, that I actually do not regret.

Of course now, he's just a booty call, but it's crazy to think that at one point I really saw Rafael potentially being my next boyfriend.

So yeah, it's been a while--but I definitely know what I want, and I know how I'll feel as soon as they're apparent.

And do you know what other gut feeling is undeniable to me too?

Whenever I feel like it isn't the end. Sometimes, there's just this crazy gut feeling telling you that it isn't the end of the story between you and that person, even if you really, really, want it to be. Sometimes, the universe has more in plan for you, and you're destined somehow to see each other again. Whether you say hello and move forward, or you end up taking an Uber to 3950 for a spontaneous casual romp--it's up to destiny. And that gut feeling telling you that it's not the end, sometimes it can be the actual worst.

Sure, sometimes it can fuel hope--but I'm not that type of person.

I'll never forget, how months ago, I said that there was this terrifying gut feeling that things weren't done between the two of us.

"My heart felt heavy for a moment, as I analyzed all these situations inside of my head. And as much as I wanted to pretend that this was still an option, I knew in my heart that the ending with Rafael had disappeared long ago, when that book closed. But, truthfully, a gut feeling inside of me told me that this wasn't going to be the end."

-THE END OF RAFAEL

And I was thinking about it recently, because I have that terrifying gut feeling that it isn't the end of Chuck and I. I definitely want to avoid him for the rest of my life, and never want to talk to his whack end, but there's this horrifying gut feeling that says that we're bound to run into each other again. Not necessarily that we're going to fall together--but definitely that me never talking to him isn't the end.

Trust me, it's terrifying.

Almost as terrifying as the thought that I might never feel sparks again.

Blair Makes Rafael's Hotline Bling

"I know when that hotline bling, that can only mean one thing"
-Aubrey Drake Graham

-

When you get over someone, there's signs. You stop thinking about them, you forget things about them, you stop associating things with them, and you are well, happy. You stop getting sad over the fact that you have to order your own fries now. Or that no one is going to text you telling you that you need to take an uber home instead of being a stubborn ass that walks around Chicago at night. You stop getting sad because Vapiano used to be your place, and that semi-crappy Chinese delivery used to be your thing. You're even a little happier, because now you don't have to eat Mongolian beef every damn time you order from there.

You forge traditions of your own, and make memories of your own. You're happy, fulfilled, and free. 

But sometimes, there's certain things that you can't help but miss...

Okay, you don't miss the fighting at 2 am, the fact that they chose their jackass friends over you all the time, you know, normal things. The fact that they were socipaths with narcissistic tendencies that emotionally manipulated you....you just miss, um, the other stuff.

(It's not like I didn't value the other parts of our relationship and like I didn't care about him, I did! But I've moved on and gotten over that part already!)

And there was no way in hell that I would even consider booty calling Chuck.

It had been a little while since Rafael and I spoke, but that didn't matter because booty calls worked in this magical realm where you didn't even have to talk to the person regularly. It bended a bunch of social worlds, and quite honestly- I got to have my strings plucked when I needed to, and I got to ignore Rafael the other 99% of the time. Especially when he was trying to convince me that he was a nice person.

To refresh your memory:
Rafael: I think I'm more than nice. But if you don't think so then you don't have to talk to me.

I fumbled with the words a little, but I ended up going with my usual--I assumed that this point that he wouldn't be dumb enough to think that I'm trying to actually hang out with him. Plus, I was sure that whenever I texted him, his reaction was "This bitch," as soon as he saw my name on the screen.

Blair: What are you doing later

Cool, breezy, unpunctuated.

Rafael: Getting groceries and making dinner. What's up?

Why was this boy always making food and buying groceries?

Blair: We should hang out!

Translation: We should have intercourse!

Rafael: Maybe like late?

I resisted the urge to say, "fucking duh." But I definitely thought it out loud. I was sitting in class, and it was like noon- did he really think that I was trying to get some this early? Especially when the two of us (well, one of us) had actual responsibilities and a real job?

Blair: That would be best.

I added a little more, so I wouldn't sound so bitchy.

Blair: That would be best. I have to go to Target and run errands after work.

He probably was like, "Why is this girl always going to Target?" But I didn't really give a fuck.

Rafael: Alright just hmu later bc I'm not sure how busy I'll be
Rafael: And I need sleep lol

Four hours later....

As Janet talked on the phone, I sat at my desk, typing away.

"It's on the corner of Irving Park Road, and Lake Shore Drive," she spoke into her phone, as those specific instructions sparked something in my brain.

Irving Park Road and LSD, those coordinates sounded so familiar...who did I know that lived in that area?

"I live at 3950 N. Lake Shore Drive," she said, immediately ringing a bell.

3950.

THIRTY NINE FIFTY. Rafael's apartment building that seemed like an oversized frat house for working professionals that wanted to relive their glory days. A building that seemed impressive on the outside, and far less impressive on the inside. The building with the doorman who scanned me from tip to toe, making mental notes that night about the girl Rafael Mancilla was about to smash.

Horror stories had conjured up in my brain in a matter of seconds,

What if the fire alarm went off the next time that I was there, and I ran out in one of Rafael's blue button-downs, to see Janet staring at me?

What if Janet saw me leaving at 5 am, doing the walk of shame?

OR EVEN WORSE- what if one day we shared a cab to work, as I left there, all walk of shame-y?

WHAT IF THAT OLDER LADY RAFAEL FUCKED IN HIS BUILDING WAS JANET?!

Four hours later....

"I highly doubt that he would fuck Janet," Gwyneth laughed, as I listed all of my potential problems about 3950, with her.

"Shouldn't you see if you guys are meeting up?" She asked, as the thoughts popped out of my brain, like little bubbles of ridiculousless.

I pulled out my new rose gold iPhone, and quickly typed a message.

Blair (8:18 pm): Are we meeting up like later?

Rafael: What time you thinking?

Booty call hour, sex time, dick o' clock.

Blair: Like 10:30ish? Girl's gotta eat her spaghetti squash.

You guys that's not a euphemism, I was genuinely making spaghetti squash.

Rafael: Like be here 10:30?

Blair: I guess. If that works?

I watched Netflix, chilled a little, and expected him to take a little while in responding. I knew it was because he was salty about what happened last time we talked, and how he tried to defend himself by saying he was a nice person. Plus, I knew that he didn't like that I was in charge, and calling the shots here.

Rafael: Nah, I'm probably going to have to pass

Was he serious? Literally, all he had to do was wait fifteen minutes, go down to the lobby, let me in. And then smash me. THAT'S IT. 

A cute, small, young Asian woman was coming to his damn door for an encounter, and then she was going to leave afterwards, to go home and sleep. NO STRINGS ATTACHED.

I wasn't even going to ask for guac or anything this time! 

"What the fuck?" I thought to myself, as I sent screenshots to my friends. "He came in like two seconds last time, and he definitely enjoyed himself."

I shrugged it off, and continued to watch Netflix. And that's when the texts started rolling in.

Rafael : But I'll hit you up tomorrow though?

Hell to the fucking no. I was in charge of this arrangement, and I was the one summoning him. He had it easy--he just needed to open his door. I was the one who needed to trek all the way to 3950, and after the discovery I had made about Janet today, that made things even more not worth  it. Rafael was cocky and a little douche lord, no way was he calling the shots. 

I continued to watch Netflix, and relax. As I sat there, texting Leonard, Matthew, and a few of my other friends, my phone went off with another notification.

Rafael : ??

Rafael had not just double texted since I didn't answer his first text...he triple texted. I laughed a little at his failed power play, and ignored it. My night was going to consist of Netflix, carbless pasta, and relaxation. I guess, maybe, I could text him back the next day. Maybe.

It was a little lesson for him- when Blair makes your hotline ring, you better not turn down that damn thing.

Blair Bui's Boss Ass Bitch 21st Birthday Bar Crawl

It's your 21st Birthday in the 21st century. What more could you ask for? 

-Unknown 

-

My sophomore year of college, in my pre-Chuck days, there was this little red zippered leather skirt that I would wear, and this bad ass version of myself would come out. The Serena Van Der Woodsen, Serena Tran, Marisa Cooper, Rachel Green, confident and effortless version of Elizabeth Bui. Not the normal Blair Waldorf, Blair Bui, Summer Roberts, Monica Geller version that runs around in florals carrying a green pebbled leather Kate Spade satchel.

There's something about me and event planning that brings out my inner fire, my inner passion and spunk (you know, besides the normal amount that is always present). And I hadn't planned anything since Friendsgiving 2015, which as you know, all ended in my heart being smashed into fifty thousand pieces. So, I decided to go and plan something big- my twenty first birthday party.

I knew that I hated clubbing, and loud, crowded places. And I also knew that I loved beer...and so, of course, I came to the conclusion that for my birthday I wouldn't be happy going to some rando club or boujie restaurant. I wanted to start in my favorite bar, in my favorite neighborhood...AND GO ON A BAR CRAWL.

Not just any bar crawl, but Blair Bui's Boss Ass Bitch 21st Birthday Bar Crawl, doesn't that have such a great ring to it? I of course invited my closest friends, some people that I knew from work (kinda), mutual friends of my closest friends that would probably come, my closest friends' significant others, and friends that have fallen through the cracks.

...Oh, and I invited some the mutual friends that Chuck and I have, just so everyone's aware that I've moved on and that I'm happy (OKAY, guys, I'm sorry, I had to- after that accidental message faux-pas, I have to salvage my reputation!)

And that is when I got the best news, in the entire fucking world.

SERENA QUYNH TRANG TRAN WAS FLYING INTO CHICAGO FOR MY TWENTY FIRST BIRTHDAY.

MOTHER

FUCKING

YES

(literally)

I was of course excited and happy that all my other friends could go, but SERENA WAS FLYING IN. She and I were going to get turnt the fuck up, and be bad ass bitches in the city, because that dream had passed long ago.

Serena: I think you should wear something sparkly AF. And have your entire entourage wear black.

Not to mention, if anyone loved helping pick outfits and Yelping bars, plus intense party planning, as much as I did--it would be Serena MF Tran.

And do you know what the best part about all of this is? This time, it was about what I wanted.

August 20th, y'all- just you wait.

The Harm With Drunk Snapchats (Deleting Your Ex on Social Media)

“I delete the picture of him from my phone; I delete his number. I think that if I just delete him enough, it will be like none of it ever happened and my heart won't hurt so badly” 

-Jenny Han

-

I recently had a real-ass realization about things with Chuck...I'm sure you all are aware of this, after reading that ultra serious post that I put up the other day. It's hard, when you romanticize the past, but when you really look at things in hindsight, you realize what you have been missing...and it's not that phenomenal.

Coincidentally, I saw this Thought Catalog article this morning that really shined a big fat fucking light on my life, 20 Diversion Tactics Highly Manipulative Narcissists, Sociopaths And Psychopaths Use To Silence You, and it genuinely broke my heart when I realized that I had been the subject of all of those tactics, at one point or another in my relationship with Chuck. That, coupled with the very real advice that Ramona gave me about how ridiculously unhealthy Chuck is for me, has made me really think about things.

And to think all of you laughed at me, and thought, "There's no way that she's really leaving his whack ass forever...she even accidentally messaged him!" BUT NO, REALLY, this time I'm actually serious.

Of course, there's times when I miss the good times, but quite honestly, we never yearn for the terrible parts, and the terrible outweighs the good. I've been trying to think about what to blog about since this whole Chuck drama subplot is over, and so, I think I've found something to blog about...at least for a little while...

I'm going to blog about discovering myself, loving myself, and my whole journey of eat, slay, love. Anyways, here's the first post after the genuine end.... please bear with me, because I'm not sure how this is going to exactly work. I promise it'll still be funny, ridiculous, and sassy here on Cliches of Chicago, though. I PROMISE.

OKAY, anyways.

When do you know exactly to cut the cord with an ex-boyfriend? The social media cord, of course, that links the two of you together. With so many forms of social media, it's not hard to keep tabs on your ex, whether you're trying to or not. No, but guys, I'm serious.

So, I have a really, really embarrassing confession to make. When Chuck and I weren't talking from March-April, I 100% social media stalked him. Not the normal social media stalk where I'd open up his Facebook profile...but the weird social media stalk where I would type "photos liked by Chuck Cuevas" and "posts liked by Chuck Cuevas" into the search bar. OKAY, you guys, don't judge me...we dated for a really long time, okay?

And I bet you guys didn't even know that Facebook had that feature- but I totally did, and I totally used it to creep on Chuck. On the completely reverse side, Chuck (or his friends) would always be the first people to view a Snapchat story once I posted one. And I'm sure you're thinking, what's the harm of having your ex as a Facebook or Snapchat friend?

Well, because it's so easy for you to creep on them! Once you start falling down that social media rabbit hole, I guarantee that you'll be listening to sad Drake songs and contemplating calling them on the phone...which is a terrible idea. (NOTE- future blog post on this)

Seriously, you don't want to be that weirdo trying to keep tabs on your ex (even if you're in a weird situation where they ask you to wait two years for them and you think you're going to get back together!).

Plus, by having your ex as a Snapchat, Instagram, or whatever follower, you totally end up stunting for the camera. You send up posting cute selfies, and videos of yourself out having fun. Whether or not it's intentional, you totally end up showing them how great you're doing in order to evoke something out of them! Take it from the girl who has posted multiple videos of her out in Boystown, cute hair and bodycon.

Plus if you post pitiful Snapchats of you eating hot cheetos...or on a date, do you really want them to see that? C'mon now.

And now, here comes the question, "When exactly do you delete them?" 

This wise girl I used to be friends with, named Willa told me you have to, as soon as you delete them so that you don't see them over your timeline. I myself am a weird case, as things with Chuck and I were a weird case, but this is what I think- you delete them when you are done. (PS, which should be right when you break up). 

You delete them when you move forward, for real. Even if it requires you playing Fight Song by Rachel Platten in the background when you delete them from Facebook. Only to realize your phone is dead, so you have to wait for it to charge before you dramatically delete them from Snapchat too. (I'm not going to lie, I hesitated for a moment with Snapchat, wondering to myself, "But what's the harm of him seeing my cute selfies?"

THE HARM IS YOU SENDING HIM DRUNK SNAPS, BLAIR.

AND THAT IS ANOTHER THING- you gotta lose them because we all know how people (aka me) get when they're drunk. Alcohol and late nights at the club in a super tight dress with skeezy guys just brings out that sad person that misses being kissed and cuddled by who they think is the bioengineer of their dreams (spoiler alert: your knight in shining armor is a fool in tin foil). Drunk texts are always terrible, and showing up drunk is never cute (I know, this is coming from a girl who still dated Chuck after he showed up at 3 am and threw up everywhere).

And because I am a truly candid person, I will post all of the concerns that I had before finally growing some lady balls to delete Chuck outta here.

(If you are truly strong like Willa, then you block them also...but I'm not that mean or strong, okay.)

BUT HOW WILL THEY EVER CONTACT ME, BLAIR?
The point is that they're not supposed to! That's the point of deleting them out of of social media...deleting them out of your life! Okay, this is how I view things- if they didn't want to be deleted, then they wouldn't have dumped you! They should have known that this was a possibility. Trust me, guys don't dump girls that they want to keep, no matter how long they ask you to wait for them, or how nicely they say it.

Especially if they come back from Mexico and pretend like they never said they had a lot of favorite things about you.

Plus, if the guy on Twitter whose girlfriend messaged him on DirectTV taught us anything, it's that when there's a will, there's a way. If they really wanted to contact you, they'd find a way. And don't try telling me otherwise- they're not living under a rock. If they have Wifi (or even dial-up, tbh), they will find a way to contact you. Or if they have DirectTV!

If not, they'll send a friend or carrier pidgeon.

Plus, c'mon, let's not be dramatic, you didn't block them, they can still try and send you shit. There's a whole industry based on exes sending unwanted messages- there's a book!


BUT BLAIRRRR, HOW ARE THEY SUPPOSED TO KNOW I'M DOING BOMBTASTIC?
OKAY, if you really are doing bombtastic then you shouldn't give a fuck as to whether or not your ex knows it or not. Who cares about that plebeian? They're a peon, they suck, and now they're not part of your life anymore! Live your life for you, because if you care about them seeing how you're doing, you're living your life for them. And trust me, you don't owe them anything else! In the words of Rihanna, and T.I., "just live yo life."

Plus, tbh, social media and gossip spread like wildfire, so if you marry the CEO of Tinder or something, even his mother is going to know.

REMEMBER- guys don't dump girls that they want in their lives...so why do you want them in yours?


BUT I WANNA SHOW OFF MY UPGRADED BOYFRIEND!!!!!!!
Who TF do you think you are, Taylor Swift? Remember that she got her ass handed to her by Kim K, because she's a fake ass snake...

C'mon, this is just petty. And chances are, if you want to show off your new man to your ex, you don't really like him... trust the girl who dated an architect even though he was really really annoying because she liked the free dinners, the flowers, and the snapchat brags!

God he was annoying.


HOW ARE WE SUPPOSED TO GET BACK TOGETHER IF I DELETE HIM?
"REMEMBER- guys don't dump girls that they want in their lives...so why do you want them in yours?"

No, but seriously, if he wanted you, he wouldn't have dumped you. He knew what he was risking, and this is just one of the minor things...

Plus, like DirectTV Twitter man, if he really wants to find you, he will. I promise. (PLUS, I'm just talking about deleting them, your girl said nothing about blocking them!)

(Please don't start thinking about how he hasn't tried to find you, that's just a sad hole you don't want to go into).


But on a serious note, trust me, I know it's hard. It was hard for me, and I lowkey almost cried when I did it. It's closing the book on someone who once was the most important person in the entire world to you, and giving up the hope that the two of you will ever reconcile (at least that's how I viewed things when I did it). But sometimes you need closure, and to not see the stupid videos that your ex keeps sharing with everyone, or the pictures of him tagged by his aunt at their family wedding in Mexico.

No one deserves that.

So, take a deep breath, blast your power anthem, and just press that button.

And please, tell me if you get a message on DirectTV.

(On the subject of deleting their number, I delete the number but send it to a reliable friend in case I ever need it, for a serious reason. Said reliable friend will decide if it is necessary. As for their photos, I upload them all to a Dropbox that I never open).

Delightfully Chaotic (Redux)

“Single is no longer a lack of options – but a choice. A choice to refuse to let your life be defined by your relationship status but to live every day Happily and let your Ever After work itself out.”

-Mandy Hale

-

Current romantic prospects: none

Current desire to date anyone: actually, also none

-

Maybe I'm supposed to want something because Kayresia, Matthew, and all of my other friends are madly falling in love and whatnot. But right now, I'm okay. I am finding happiness within myself, and I'm quickly learning how to have fun- boyfriend or not! I'm just a girl, taking it one step at a time, breathing, living, and perfectly functioning without someone special in my life. It helps that I've recently learned how much fun Twitter can be!

And I know I'm not roaming the streets of Chicago looking like a scrublet because this old man whistled at me THREE times today. He apparently thought I could not hear him, so he kept whistling louder, even though he is a geriatric and I am basically a pediatric. I decided to focus on me- school, life, and ultimately, being happy.

Somehow, I had become that girl who was COMPLETELY okay being single. And to be honest, except for the small bursts when you want to cuddle at night or have sex, it's actually pretty nice. I get to sleep when I want, look hot as hell for myself, and relish in the fact that I'm not wasting my good years on anyone...but myself!

Also, after my faux-pas with Chuck I'm going to consider myself the winner because I didn't anal freak out like old Blair would have, or attempt to talk to him. I did call him, in attempt to apologize over the phone and be polite, but that's a normal thing to do. ALSO, on Facebook he unknowingly likes every perverted/porny post from 9gag, so I'm enjoying that.

This whole thing started when Audrey was being rude as hell about Chuck. I don't know how she thought she was entitled to comment on my choices, which were normal, in the unabashedly discourteous and unsolicited way she did. Anyways, after some comments about how I'm making unhealthy choices, and that I need to get over Chuck, etc, etc (okay, literally, minus the faux-pas I haven't talked to him in three weeks, and I've been fine!), I had this realization that I didn't need to take any of this...from anyone!

OKAY, I admit that I got REALLY fucking pissed, but then I realized that this wasn't fair to me, and that I didn't need to take it! With the stress of work, school, and life, I didn't need someone to be an asshole and comment on my shit. So, I lowkey deleted her out of here! Matthew and Kayresia agreed that I didn't need to take it, and Kayresia commented that the reason that Audrey got mad was probably because Chuck told me (months ago) to stop hanging out with her ass.

And I've been making new friends and I've been socializing! I even became friends with one of Chuck's friends, a very intelligent and nice lady named Ramona.

Ramona (commenting on the story of our break up): Oh my! That's a tragic story. Wow. Obviously you two still care about each yet but he's not being fair to you. And you're not being fair to him but swooping in to help him when he started falling apart! He has a lot of growing up to do. And you shouldn't have to wait for him. The only real way to get over him is to find someone who's better for you. Obviously he needs you, and obviously you need him, but your relationship can't continue like this, because it's just so unfair to everyone. He needs to spend some time thinking about who he is and what he wants! You need to get over him because he sounds truly terrible for you! Like I said before, it's okay to be friends with terrible people, but you have consistently fallen into being more than friends and that's dangerous!

(low key totally stealing her from Chuck)

And as for the whole accidentally messaging him thing- after the initial Blair Bui style freak-out, and comedic blog post, it was really whatever.

Things might have felt like they were falling apart then, but I'm actually very blessed to have such loving people in my life (job and school are still a mess but let's just ignore that for now, okay?)

And I'm doing so well with the whole break-up thing!

Except now, I'm kind of wondering...what am I going to blog about?

I mean, guys, seriously- I started this blog because I date terrible guys, and I blog about it.

What the hell am I going to blog about now?

Even from end of February- end of April when Chuck and I weren't talking I was still going on terrible dates with people and having terrible encounters! But now, it's weird because I don't even want to date anyone, I just want to be a happy, healthy young lady.

WEIRD, RIGHT?

But I'm actually fine, and actually totally living my life.

And I know this sounds like the end, but I swear to you guys, this isn't. My relationship status just isn't a plot point any more in my story, but I promise you things are still going to be ridiculous, hilarious, and delightfully chaotic.

Phenomenally Well, Super Super Great, Bomb Dot Com

“Otherwise I'll fall apart. I'm going to fall apart. I am falling apart.”
-Tabitha Suzuma, Forbidden

-

I started to eat pasta again, the idea of Thanksgiving food wasn't going to make me vomit, and someone could mention Chuck Cuevas without it making me want to slap them across the face. I mean yeah, it still irritated me and annoyed me a little, but not enough to the point where I would need to text Kayresia or Matthew all, "DISSS BITCH."

I could probably even see Chuck, cordially say hello, and then move forward with my life! And not scream in his face or have backslide sex with him!

OKAY, Blair, let's not get ahead of ourselves here...

I was getting to feeling good about Chuck- less "he's a fucking piece of shit" or "fuck, I miss him," but to the awesome place when you're like, "DAMN, I can't believe I dated him lol." And referring to him as "This one guy I dated" and not "THE CHUCK CUEVAS THE NOT LOVE OF MY LIFE WHO SMASHED MY HEART TO PIECES."

You know, the good place! Where he's not romanticized and built up, but where he is literally just that guy.

I could listen to Hello by Adele without bursting into tears, and I could encounter everyday objects and view them as everyday objects, not as "the cart that Chuck and I pushed around that day that I gave him a blow job in my office," or "the Fitbit that tracked the hand job that I gave him," or "that dress I wore when Chuck tried to dump me, once."

It took me a full 9-10 months to be completely over Haz, to walk into him, have him confess his undying love, and for me to laugh it off and turn it down. And I only had a thing with him for six months! It wasn't even a real relationship! So, for teetering to the end of this whole ordeal eight months after my break up with the man boy I thought I was going to marry, the person I thought was the love of my life, the guy I thought I would be with forever, who was in my life for like a year and a half, it was pretty damn good progress.

PLUS, with Chuck I backslid like twenty million times. Like, a lot.

Like, we constantly almost got back together and made love, and all that terrible bullshit.

And then the worst possible thing that could have happened, happened.

You know how you want your ex boyfriend to think that you're doing great, and that you're doing phenomenally well, and super fab?

You know, even if your life is falling apart and in total shambles?

Well...the best way to completely derail that is to,

1. Be absolutely miserable at your job
2. Potentially fail the PCATs
3. Stress out about summer classes
4. Stress out about everything else
5. Have no romantic prospects because you're a spinster lady
6. Be miserable, secretly

AND THEN TO HOLD IT IN AND LET IT EXPLODE AND THEN ACCIDENTALLY MESSAGE YOUR EX BOYFRIEND.

A transcript for you all, because my pain is here for you all to enjoy:

Blair:

Kayresia I give up I fucking failed the PCATS 
I'm going to fail my physics exam tomorrow and be like a six peat in physics 
I fucking hate work holy shit I sat at my desk and I cried yesterday and Janet and Cora looked at me like what the fuck is wrong with her actually 
And I'm going to drop out and go live in the woods and sell soap or something holy fuck 
Why is this green 
WHAT THE FUCK

And my super pitiful attempt at pretending like this isn't happening and that everything is great?

Blair: Oh that was accident, Blair is doing phenomenally well, super super great. Bomb dot com. Sorry, my bad!

Can someone time machine teleport me back to October 26, 2014? Or maybe he'll see of it as a decent excuse for my erratic behavior.

Rafael's More Than Nice

“From what you didn’t say, lies that you did say.” 

-Dejan Stojanovic, The Creator

-

I'll skip over the marginally boring part- the part where I struggled to find the most eloquent way to booty call Rafael. We had ended up texting earlier that day, and to be completely honest there was nothing salacious or spicy about our conversation.

A small segment of the most uninteresting booty call text exchange that lasted two hours:

I have taken the liberty to translate what we were saying, in case you are incapable of reading between the lines.

Blair: What are you up to tonight?
Translation: I am about to booty call you.

Rafael: Shit, probably gonna go to the gym and meal prep for the next few days lol 
Translation: I know you're trying to booty call, so I'm gonna sound too busy and too cool, so you really gotta ask for it. Even though all I have planned is smoking weed with my roommate with the crockpot fetish.

Blair: Well how about we hang out lol 
Translation: This is me booty calling you.

Rafael: Idk if I'll have time 🤔 
Translation: I'm probably going to booty call YOU later to exert control, so I'm in control.

Blair: Okay have fun by yourself then 😏 
Translation: Yeah, I don't play games, have fun playing with your hand.

Rafael: Lol stop trying to tempt me with sex before I cave 😭 
Translation: Wait, no, I still want to have sex with you.

Blair:I'm pretty sure you've already caved..and you're just trying to convince yourself otherwise 😂 
Translation: Bitch, I know you want to fuck me, stop pretending otherwise.

Rafael: Haha nah I'm just bummed out bc I know I have to go to the gym and make food 🙁 
Translation: Just because I want to have sex with you, don't forget that I'm a busy guy or whatever.

Blair: You have a roommate that cooks with a crockpot at 3 am lol 
Translation: Hey remember your weird ass roommate with the crock pot fetish that woke me up at 3 am with his crock pot?

Rafael: I might make something in my crockpot today actually 🤔
Translation: I fucking love my crock pot.

The conversation continued, and it was boring. So boring that I'm not even going to blog about it in detail.


-

The booty call hour...

After work, I took a nap, and then when I woke up at around 10:30 to study, I got a little distracted at 11 pm and decided to booty call Rafael. As in Chuck was all over my timeline because he liked a bunch of people's posts. That's the annoying thing about him, he never posts anything, but he always ends up on my timeline, without failing, at every point of every day. But that's irrelevant. Point is, nearly messaged my ex, decided to booty call Rafael again.

Blair: Are you going to fuck me or what?
Translation: Are you going to fuck me or what?

Rafael: Lol it's bedtime
Translation: I'm really going to make you ask for it.

Blair: Okay have fun by yourself then 😏 
Translation: LMAO, bye, I'm going to study for the PCATs now.


-

The morning after...

Turns out guys, you don't have to be in a relationship to fight like a couple.

I was feeling a little bit curious, quite honestly. And brazen and bold (but when do I ever not feel brazen and bold?). So, I finally asked Rafael what I had been wondering this whole time.

I asked him if he had feelings for me.

HAHAHAHAHAHA, no. I'm just fucking with you guys.

I had always wondered who broke Rafael, or what exactly made him such an asshole when it comes to relationships. I had never met someone in my entire life who hated relationships more than he did, and who was more jaded than he was. Maybe it was a combination of him being super obviously conventionally attractive, stupid charming, and suave enough to get 85% of women to sleep with him. But I was smarter than that. He reeked of the desperation of a man trying to "play it cool," aka the same desperation that a thirteen year old who just discovered Axe reeked of.

Some girl had broken him, and she was obviously a bad ass bitch.

So obviously, being a nosy young lady, I wanted to know. After all, there wasn't really anything exciting in my life besides the typical school and work stress. I had deleted Tinder, ignored Chuck permanently, and even removed Audrey from my life. I was trying to be a better person, and I was trying to be kinder.

And you know, be a better person and whatnot.

BUT ANYWAYS, so I asked him....

Blair: Okay so I'm a pretty perceptive person, and dude you are the most anti-relationship and jaded person I've ever met lol. And it's not necessarily a bad thing- I'm jaded in my own ways and un-relationshipy in my own ways. But dude what happened to you lol, did some girl break you or something 😂😂😂
Rafael: Lol nah I'm just not gonna pretend like I'm interested when I'm not 

I thought for a moment that maybe he was trying to tell me that he didn't want to date me, but I concluded that probably not. I mean, after all, I had no intention of dating Rafael and had made it crystal fucking clear.

Blair: There's a difference between being normal about it and being flat out like "I only fuck bitches" 😂 

Literally, Rafael always (paraphrased): "Relationships are fucking stupid and I only want to fuck bitches."

Rafael: So being normal would be leading girls on? 
Rafael: No, that's selfish

From a mile away, I could forsee this turning into an unwanted argument, Johnson Baker style.

I'm going to try another way to transcribe texts, one that is most relevant to this conversation.

So, remember how I said I was trying to be a better person?

Blair: That's not being normal
What Blair wanted to say: No one told your ass that you needed to lead them on, you just need to not be such a fucking asshole

Rafael: I'd rather be honest 

Blair: Being normal is being honest but polite
What Blair wanted to say: You are definitely not honest, and you definitely need to be less of an asshole

OKAY, and I know someone's going to say, "But Blair,"

1. Ted Chang
2. Target Child Molester
3. Johnson Baker
4. Derek
5. Nash
6. EVERY GUY BLAIR HAS HAD TO AWKWARD TURN DOWN ON CLICHES OF CHICAGO

And I'm going to say back, "Guys, I was polite and honest with all of them!" Y'ALL, the only one I was polite but dishonest with was The Target Child Molester because, duh, child molester. AND NASH, but he was about to kiss me and stuff, and he was begging for a second date! And he could have drowned me on the beach!

PLUS THEY WERE WHITE LIES, not Rafael rude-ass faking kidney disease BS.

Rafael: How am I ever not polite?

UM,

1. When you faked kidney disease
2. When you hit it and quit it
3. When you sent me that rude ass text
4. When you didn't give me guacamole
5. When you wouldn't give me toilet paper
6. When you woke me up randomly in the middle of the night
7. When you accused me of leaving random shit
8. Every time you open your damn mouth

Blair: But I shouldn't even be giving advice because I'm incapable of letting people down
What Blair wanted to say: You are literally one of the biggest assholes I have ever met in my entire life. And I know assholes- I've dated med students

Rafael: I don't say anything mean

What Blair wanted to say: *eyeroll emoji*

Rafael: I don't ignore you like I planned on

What Blair wanted to say: Please take your broccoli and chicken eating ass away, and try to ignore me, please.

Rafael: I think I'm more than nice

Can we all take a moment and laugh at this one?

Rafael: But if you don't think so then you don't have to talk to me.

I didn't say anything back to any of his last texts, I just let him relish in his fuck boy fuckbaggery and continued with my day,

Closing The Chapter (The Truth About Chuck Cuevas)

“No, this is not the beginning of a new chapter in my life; this is the beginning of a new book! That first book is already closed, ended, and tossed into the seas; this new book is newly opened, has just begun! Look, it is the first page! And it is a beautiful one!”
-C. JoyBell C.

-

NOTE- This is not a breezy, funny Blair blog post, this is the dead ass serious truth, the secrets that I've been keeping about Chuck and about our relationship. Skip if you hate sad shit.

-

Due to recent events, I have become unsettled. 

Mostly because of the fact that so many view me as this evil girl who ruined her picture perfect relationship, a girl who was too much to handle for poor, sweet, innocent Chuck. Of course, he had to make the valiant decision to break up with her, because she was taking advantage of poor Chuck, because she's an evil, annoying bitch.

Not only is this tremendously unfair to me, but it's also completely one sided. Maybe, if Chuck gets the balls someday he'll tell you his side, but today, I'll tell you mine.

Three months into my relationship with Chuck, we had a serious conversation where he admitted that it's difficult for him to feel things, he essentially told me that he was a sociopath, although he did not use those words. He had no remorse for his actions, he felt nothing, and had no empathy. He told me that he lied all the time to people, that he felt no remorse for doing so, and that it was something that he couldn't control. He told me that sometimes he lied to get what he wanted, sometimes he lied to make people happy- regardless it was a regular thing, and he lied all the time. At the time, I was so madly in love with him that I didn't run for the hills, to be completely honest with all of you, part of me thought that I would be able to help him, and that I could live with the fact that my boyfriend could have been lying to me 50% of the time. He admitted that day that although he really liked me, he might not ever be able to feel true love. Reluctantly, I said it was fine, and I thought that I could ignore this darker side to my boyfriend. When he told me that he loved me, I was over the moon, and thought for a second, that maybe our relationship was helping him, and that he would stop lying and manipulating people.

My job as his girlfriend was not as picture perfect as people thought, I often had to cover up his tracks and the lies that he told people. Sometimes his friends would ask me where he was, and I would tell them, only to have them say, "he told me (insert thing here)," and I would have to pretend that I was sadly mistaken and somewhat stupid. They probably thought our relationship was shaky or that he was keeping secrets from me, but really I was covering his tracks- even though he was a complete liar, I loved him so much that I would have rather taken the hit than to have them know the truth about him.

As this happened, I was finding out that things he had told me when we first started dating were complete lies as well. The girl he claimed to have dated for three months turned into this girl he dated for one, to this girl he never dated that had a crush on him. Their "almost sex" experience turned into him only fondling her breasts into only him kissing her into him not even giving her a hug! It was hard for me, living and trusting him, when in the back of my head I told myself that he could be lying to me. I watched as he lied to everyone else around us, but honestly I convinced myself that I didn't care as long as he didn't lie to me.

Shortly after that, I remember one night when he completely broke down and kept talking about how he was crazy, he just kept repeating it in this grim, evil, and sinister voice. He would not stop repeating it over and over again, "I'm crazy, Blair!" He listed reasons why he was crazy and evil, manipulative and conniving, in that terrifying voice. He didn't look like my boyfriend- and he wasn't that night. I was horrified, and completely scared for my life, but I tried to do what had been doing- talking to him, being there for him, and being his emotional support. He was having a mental breakdown, and I tried my best to help him.

The next day, he had no recollection of the events of the night before. He laughed at the events when I recounted them to him, scared and practically trembling as I remembered everything that had happened. I have never been scared of him, except for that one night. He told me that I was obviously joking, and shrugged it off. I mentioned it again casually a month later, and he laughed again.

He left to go to Mexico for the summer, and when he came back I was overjoyed. We had done long distance for the summer- at the time he told me that he had no cell phone signal, no wifi or internet unless he went to the nearest Internet cafe, no data, etc. (Now, I wonder if that was a lie...) We talked a few times a week, for very short bursts of time, and I practically lived for those times. So, of course, when he came back I was ready to tell him all about my summer and catch up with him.

He tried to dump me, literally minutes after seeing me again. He told me that he didn't know if he wanted to be in a relationship and we had the longest heart to heart conversation. We ended up staying together, although now in hindsight I think I could have spared myself so much pain and heartbreak if I had just kicked him out and said goodbye. He told me that he was going to try, which completely took me aback because I thought that he was already trying! Our relationship seemed fine!

During this time, our relationship started to decay. He was only focusing and caring about himself, and the things he was working on. He wasn't spending time with me like he used to and he didn't take me on dates like he used to. I was just there, and no longer the phenomenal and amazing girl that he used to think I was. As he met new people, I resumed covering his tracks, although this time it felt more wrong. The distance between us was growing, and although I wanted to ignore that it was happening, it was a very real thing. And I couldn't stop it.

One night, he completely lied about what he was doing that day, he claimed that he was out with his parents the whole day and grabbing dinner with them. I ran into his friend Lauren, and I told her that I was heading over to see him that night, and that how he was with his parents all day. Later that night, he told me that Lauren, him, and a few friends hung out all day and that he lied to me about his parents. He had lied to me, and I wouldn't have cared what he was really doing! I felt so humiliated and ashamed, and when he told me he had internet in Mexico for a week straight I was furious. It had been so hard to do long distance, and he could have talked to me for a week! I remember getting out of bed, trying to put on my clothes, ready to walk out of the door. Chuck begged me to stop and to stay, and because I loved him, I did.

Another time, he had told me he was at home, and when I ran into his friends at Target they told me that they were throwing a party and that Chuck was coming that night. They were shocked that he didn't tell me, and I had to pretend like I was a fool, in order to cover his tracks. I remember the exact look on their faces, their pity for me, and their assumption that our relationship was truly failing.

That whole experience with Lauren, the whole lie about the party, and so many others fueled strong rumors that I had become so difficult, and so hard to escape that Chuck had to resort to lying to get away from me. Everyone thought that I was such a bitch, and so intolerable that Chuck had to lie and keep secrets from me. It was embarrassing, and it broke my heart.

When we broke up, the entire night was a blur. I remember begging him to try, and asking why it was happening- I just didn't understand. He told me that I was manipulative, childish, bitchy, and scheming. I'll never forget those words he said to me, because they broke my heart in an instant. He had no idea what I had sacrificed, and what I had done for him. I had taken so many hits to cover his tracks, I had covered for his lies countless times, and it was something that I never revealed to him.

The rumors of our break up circulated quickly, of course, all of them stating that I was so goddamn difficult and manipulative, evil and bitchy that sweet, innocent Chuck simply had to dump me. He had remained the golden boy, and as I tragically tried to mend my broken heart, everyone continued to talk about how great he was and how phenomenal he was. "None if you would be thinking so, if you knew the truth, if you knew what I had done."

We tried to stay friends, and went through a tumultuous post-break up. It was a back and forth of me falling back into old habits, trying to be there for him and covering up for him- and this time we weren't even dating. As I kept falling back in love with him, he just kept pulling out excuses about why we couldn't get back together...even though we basically acted similarly to if we were dating. All the reasons revolved around him, and it seemed like he had no remorse for dumping me. He didn't even feel bad. AND he had dumped me before finals, and completely shattered me.

Even during our relationship, I had always listened to people praise him and talk about what a nice guy he was, and how phenomenal of a person he was. What made it even worse is that everyone kept talking about how terrible I was and how bitchy I was (because he was sooooo great). They constantly asked me about him, and it was the only thing people would talk to me about!

There was one point when I was moving forward, and he had contacted me, and sucked me back in again. After this, we began sneaking around, and I found myself once again sticking up for him and covering his tracks. This time, he had manipulated me and convinced me, and I did so much for him! I brought him food, I helped him do laundry...I even wrote two essays for him. I wrote his personal statement that got him his internship.

Things had seemed good, things had seemed great...and then he disappeared. I won't waste your time, and go into detail, because cycle happened a few times, until one fateful day. He had returned back to Chicago...and I had heard nothing. He disappeared, once again. But this time was different. This time I made the choice to move forward and to take care of my own damn self.

I didn't say anything to him, I didn't try to help him, I didn't do any of it. I wanted to help myself. He was a (semi) adult, and it was time that he took responsibility for his actions, that he took care of himself, and that he handle things on her own. I couldn't be constantly hurt, constantly manipulated, and constantly dragged into someone else's own problems. So, as hard as it was for me to do, I decided to close that chapter of my life.

I've thought about telling him the truth a few times, he would ultimately have to live with the fact that he lost someone who genuinely cared for him and sacrificed so much. But I don't, because it's passed, and I'm moving forward.

I remember when I slept with Zayn, and Matthew told me that ignoring things (and people) isn't a way to close a chapter in your life. You have to accept what happened, and move forward.

The (Kinda) Highlight Reel

"If you want to live a memorable life, you have to be the kind of person who remembers to remember."
-Joshua Foer

-

"You really don't have anyone?"

"NO, I have no romantic interests in my life, at all. I watch Netflix, and online shop, and blog about the terrible men I date."

"You know, Blair," Vance responded, in his slightly condescending tone, "Maybe it's the guys you're picking." He said it in an annoying kind of way, which irritated me because the last conversation I had with him was about how the biggest burn I received in my life was from a so-called nice guy. He was insinuating that crazy hot guys like Rafael were my problem. They were not. Guys that were "nice guys" (so they claimed) were my problem- because they acted like total fools!

-

The most ridiculous things that has happened to Blair Bui, post-break up

IRREVOCABLY CRAZY- The weird architect annoys Blair even more, and she learns that you can't fake chemistry.

FASTING OR FAKING- Rafael, the super hot Anti-Chuck claims he has kidney problems and cancels their first date. Blair learns a lesson in sex and relationships.

THE DAY AFTER VALENTINE'S DAY- Blair agrees to go on a date with the guy from Target, finds out he's a child molester, and Chuck ends up being her savior.

SLICE OF APPLE PIE, PART ONE- Blair goes on her first date with Carter, and he asks her to slap him across his face. Blair pays for herself on a date, for the very first time.

WHEN ZAYN FINALLY F'S OFF- Zayn confronts Blair about her avoiding him. Blair's words nearly kill Zayn, until Kayresia steps in and tells her to be kinder.

THROAT PUNCH- Johnson doesn't handle rejection very well, and follows Blair twenty blocks asking her why she won't date him. Blair nearly throat punches Johnson.

THE GREMLIN MAN-CHILD (THROAT PUNCH, PART TWO)- Johnson continues to harass Blair because she won't date him, on her subway ride home. Blair's chances of dating any guys in the College of Medicine are gone.

A DRY BRUNCH- Blair attempts to be friends with Johnson, despite his psychopathy. The lack of alcohol at brunch and Johnson's stupidity makes Blair nearly kill herself.

THAT WAS A PITY- Blair goes on a date with Derek, after not seeing him for three years. Typical Blair Bui chaos ensues. Her Uber driver gives her a lesson on politely letting guys down.

YOU CAN'T HAVE HER- Matthew takes Blair to the infamous strip club, where a stripper sets his sights on Blair. Another stripper grabs Blair's ass without her consent and feels her wrath. A drunk, short, bald man stops any guys at the bar from flirting with Blair.

THE BLUE HELLO KITTY- Blair gets her things back from Chuck, and finds out that he immaturely mutilated, and then returned a gift she gave him.

WHY CHUCK?- Blair goes to a work event with Kayresia, and runs not only into Zayn, but Chuck Cuevas for the first time since the real break up. Chaos ensues at the shitshow. We learn how Blair first fell in love with Chuck, nearly two years ago.

BLAIR BUI IS TERRIBLE- Blair attempts to reject a guy in-person for the very first time, typical chaos ensues. Nash begs for a second chance with Blair at the beach.

MRS. BLAIR HARVARD- The new-and-improved Chuckless Blair takes Matthew's advice and goes on Tinder. After matching with JFK, Blair dreams of Tory Burch and Ralph Lauren.

RAFAEL MANCILLA WANTED TO CUDDLE- Rafael is back in Blair's life, and sends mixed messages. Thinking that Rafael is a fuck boy, Blair attempts to have a casual hook up.

ALL SHE NEEDS IS YOU....TO STOP WAKING HER UP- Blair learns why you never spend the night. Rafael thinks that Blair wants more from him, Blair just wants him to stop waking her up. Rafael's roommate has a crockpot fetish.

I Don't Even Want To Have Sex With You Anymore, Rafael Mancilla

“The difference between sex and love is that sex relieves tension and love causes it.”
-Woody Allen

-

As Rafael ignored my texts, I decided that it was a lost cause. Okay, first I analyzed everything that happened between us since we met in early February in excruciating detail, reread texts, and let him annoy the living daylights out of me. But then, I decided it was a lost cause.

Okay, he isn't even that hot...I don't even want to have sex with him anymore!

Except he is stupid hot, and I may possibly would sleep with him again.

You see, in moments like this, people often distract themselves with someone something to keep themselves preoccupied. With the PCATs approaching, I wanted to make flashcards to intensely study for my exam (and review). So, that is how I ended up wandering through the aisles of Target at 7 pm at night. I put my phone on silent, and simply just walked around, wandering the aisles and picking up miscellaneous school supplies. I stood out in the crowd of nearly suburban mothers meticulously picking out supplies for their children, but I didn't care. I just kept distracting myself, as I picked out pens and pencil pouches.

And then suddenly, without any warning, it hit me. It hit me like when Kayresia asked Louis what his intentions were at Carnivale. It hit me like how Chuck spontaneously dumped me after the Friendsgiving from Hell (I don't think I will ever be able to blog about that) even though I straddling him in a black scalloped lace bra. It hit me like that booze hit Chuck the night he showed up drunk at two am and threw up everywhere. Spontaneously, ridiculously, randomly out of fucking no where, it hit me like a monster truck with flames painted on the sides.

And I stood there in the school supplies aisle, having quite possibly the most melodramatic moment of my life.

You know that moment in the movie when the main character walks and has an inner monologue to themselves as sad music plays, like some super depressing epiphany? That was me!

Well, you know, except I didn't start my monologue yet.

As I put the green pens back on the hook, I thought to myself, "Wow, I miss Chuck so fucking much." The feeling overwhelmed me, and it just hit me out of completely nowhere.

"I miss talking to him, and seeing his stupid broken nose. Having him text me when I'm freaking out, or having him tell me that shit's going to be okay. I miss cuddling with him at night, and having him sana sana my stomach when it hurts. I miss going out on dates, and binge watching Hulu. I miss the late night conversations, and staying up so late to the point where he says, 'Blair it is too fucking late.' I miss all of it, whether I want to admit it or not, I miss Chuck. And there's no kidding that I'm definitely attracted to Rafael, and totally secretly into him...and he definitely doesn't want me either. And I'm not the girl that wastes time or needs a guy to want her, but-"

"Hey, do you go to UNI?" A random guy asked, completely interrupting my internal monologue.

I stopped in my tracks, and resisted the urge to wheel my cart away, and to ignore him completely. Out of all the moments that he could have stopped me, he chose now? During my main character internal monologue moment? I mean, c'mon! This was the moment in Clueless when "All By Myself" plays and Cher walks around in the shops, contemplating her life.

"Everything I think and everything I do is wrong. I was wrong about Rafael, I was wrong about Chuck, and now Chuck hated me. It all boiled down to one inevitable conclusion, I was just totally clueless... Oh and this whole Blair and Chuck thing was wiggin' me more than anything. I mean, what was my problem? Chuck is my pal, I don't begrudge him as a boyfriend. I really... (looks into a store window) Oooh! I wonder if they have that in my size! (comes out of the store with bags in tow) What do I want with Chuck anyway? He dresses funny, he listens to weird Mexican music, he's not even cute in a conventional way... I mean, he's just like this slug that hangs around the labs all the time! Ugh! And he's a hideous dancer, couldn't take him anywhere. Wait a second, what am I stressing about, this is like, Chuck. Okay, okay......so he's kind of a Baldwin. What would I want with Radael, I couldn't make him happy, Rafael needs someone with an open imagination, someone to take care of him, someone to laugh at his terrible jokes in case he ever makes any...the suddenly....(pause) Oh my god! I like Chuck! I'm majorly, totally, butt crazy in like with Chuck! But now I don't know how to act around him. I mean normally I'd strut around in my cutest little outfits, and send myself flowers and candy but I couldn't do that stuff with Chuck."
**I modified the original monologue from Clueless (1995)
***I also do not love Chuck Cuevas at all.

But seriously, where the actual fuck did this guy come from? Could he not tell that I was deep in my fucking thoughts and having a Clueless internal monologue?

I had a brief flashback to the last time a guy tried to pick me up in Target.

Was this a new thing now? I feel like a girl really shouldn't have men try to ask her out on dates more than once in a Target. Maybe Men's Health dubbed it a new thing- picking up uninterested girls during inappropriate times at Target, especially when they are having an internal monologue.

I could tell you all what the conversation was like in detail, but honestly all I remember is me being completely disinterested, and him grilling me with questions as I looked at the display of squeeze tube applesauce behind him.

"I know it's okay to miss Chuck, sometimes, and to want a little more effort from Rafael as-"

"What's you name?" Random Target man asked me, once again interrupting my thoughts. I had completely forgot that he was trying to talk to me, as I had completely zoned out in my thoughts.

After a lukewarm conversation, he finally left me alone, and I wheeled off.

Yeah, the way I felt about Rafael and Chuck were different, one was a matter of sex, and the other was a matter of love (gag), but the common denominator of both was that they were annoying the living fuck out of me.

-

"I was supposed to go on a date with this guy, but I lied to him and told him that I was going to get back with my ex boyfriend." That had been my go-to excuse, for a multitude of reasons. Trust me, after having Johnson Baker follow me twenty blocks asking me why I wouldn't date him, and having the guy from Fannie May standing on the beach begging me to go on another date, I've learned that it's best that you don't flat out say that you're not interested in them. It crushes their fragile ego, and not only will they never leave you alone, but they'll ruin your chances at dating their hot friends (*COUGH* COLLEGE OF MEDICINE ST. BALDRICK'S EVENT 2016).

"You have to stop doing that," Kayresia said, as she told me about this new guy she was seeing. I was really happy for her, if anyone deserved to be with someone great, it was her!

"It's just... I just don't want to waste my time unless they're really great."

"How are you supposed to know that they're great if you keep lying to them and blowing them off?" She laughed for a bit, and then continued telling me about what she had been up to.

"There's just not any guys around here," I admitted, as I zipped up my green Kate Spade bag. "And maybe it's because I'm jaded because of everything that happened with Chuck. I mean, of course I'm fine but having that kind of stuff happen to you changes your perspective on things."

-

"What about all the guys barking up your tree?" Vance asked, as he wrote something on the office whiteboard. "They all sound pretty nice."

"Like the one who tried asking me out in Target?"

"Why are guys always asking you out in grocery stores?" Cora asked, raising an eyebrow.

I'm sure all of you remember, but there was that one other guy who asked me out while Audrey was buying Yeezys in Target. You know, the guy that told me he fucked a fifteen year old when we was twenty two. That date was so bad that I had to call Chuck and ask him to pretend to be my friend who was bawling tears uncontrollably because she got dumped.

"What was his name?" Vance said, with a smile.

"Don't remember," I admitted, "He interrupted my inner Clueless monologue and was so boring and irrelevant that I didn't even really pay attention to the conversation we had."

"You know, here's something crazy- why don't you be more open to giving guys a chance?"

"Because I've done the date a nice guy thing, I've dated the guy that's funny but awkward, my best friend and boyfriend, where we binge watch Netflix and fall in love and whatever, I've done it, and it failed. The relationship failed, and of course I'm not going to let one relationship define me, but I've done it already and I've done it before. And right now, I don't want to go through that again."

"Then go get you some!"

"I also don't want to go around fucking every guy in Chicago either. I just want to be happy, focus on myself, and go on dates. If I fall in love, cool, if I don't, it's okay."

Tremendously Unbreezy

"So, I'm just checkin'. So let me know, or don't, whatever. I'm breezy."
-Monica Geller, Friends

-

In one episode of Friends, Monica (me AF) says that she is "breezy" when she leaves her ex boyfriend a voicemail, even though she was conspicuous as fuck. Urban Dictionary defines breezy as "acting cool and aloof so the person you're talking to doesn't think you're trying too hard." I am not breezy. I am not aloof. I am extremely obvious, ridiculous conspicuous, and tremendously unbreezy. I drink La Croix for god's sake, even my water is trying too damn hard.

But we aren't talking about ex-boyfriends (he shall not be named after he pissed me off... The time in July, not the time every other month he's made me want to claw his eyes out), we are talking about my awkward attempt at casual sex. You see, every time I've been in a casual sex relationship not relationship situation, the guy has always hit me up (Johnny) or he showed up when I told him to (Jake). So when Rafael completely ignored my question about the dirty picture I had sent him, and then proceeded to NOT make future sex plans with me, I was honestly floored.

I mean, it's not like I was naming our future children or planning to leave tampons and thongs all over his apartment-- the only thing I needed from him was for him to have fucking toilet paper and to stop waking me up at two in the morning for absolute nonsense! AND for him to tell me what his roommate was cooking in that stupid crockpot at three in the morning. And I thought Chuck's friends were weird!

Was I approaching things the wrong way? Maybe in my attempt to NOT date him, it had completely deterred him from wanting to ever see me again. I mean, I wore sexy as hell underwear (although that's never stopped a boy from dumping me... *cough* friendsgiving 2016), I was funny and chill (or at least what I thought was funny and chill), I was casual and indifferent about him, and I left in the morning and didn't demand him to pay for my uber, walk me out, or order me breakfast. And I didn't even text him or say anything until the next time I wanted to smash... Wasn't this how booty calls worked?

Why on earth would I be extra nice, extra sweet and flirtatious, try to trick him into relationship things, and text him regularly? I did that already--and it led me into being fooled for the ten millionth time by Chuck! All that wasted energy could have gone into something useful, like learning to play the piccolo or perfecting risotto.

You know, I went to the Taste of Chicago with Yael, and he told me that Chuck wrote in his staff yearbook thing (I don't even know, Campus Housing is weird), "Even though Blair got custody of you, we still have to hang out." YEAH FUCKING RIGHT. Yael risk his life and hang out with my ex boyfriend/archenemy? I don't know what possessed Chuck to write that, he should have just written the truth, "Yael, I want to pretend to be a good person to spite Blair, because we both know she's annoyed as hell that after our breakup everyone thinks she's the Asian spawn of Satan and that I am a Latino Angel."

Yael, also, after hearing about why I'm done with Chuck (this time), said, "How do you deal with this? I would have been so done."

ANSWER: I don't. I don't talk to him and I don't deal with the shit.

But I digress.

I thought that I had done everything right, I had acted sexy, but cool. Casual, but kind (okay, maybe I was kind of a bitch, but he deserved it!). Wasn't this what guys wanted? A carefree, independent, hot girl that would be willing to have regular sex with them, without commitment.

"Have you thought that maybe he likes you?"

And I've gone over this, for the ten millionth time. Chuck will probably be in a relationship before. Rafael will ever, Rafael is far too busy having irresponsibly casual sex with random girls. He's less serious than a mullet, more careless than a biker without a helmet. He literally gives no fucks, and he's not going to give that up for anyone. He's Rafael- asshole extraordinaire and player.

Even my regular sex commitment that I wanted was probably too much for him.

With Chuck busy making flow hoods and stupid lamps, and Rafael off fucking all of Chicago, I was exhausted and tired of all the nonsense. I was overworked, stressed as fuck, and way too busy with everything going on in my life. Maybe I was a fool to think that things would come easily- that Chuck and I would get back together and live happily after, or that Rafael and I would get under each other until I lived happily ever after. Finding someone isn't easy, even if you're trying to have casual sex.

But that's why they call it one in a million--because it's rare and extraordinary.

Sometimes people think that they should go back to their ex because they feel lonely or comfortable with their ex, but that doesn't mean that you should stay... It means that you haven't found the right person yet. You can't settle for comfortable or base your decision on what previously worked or previously made you happy. Because it's the present now, and this is when you make decisions for the future. And maybe magic will come soon, or maybe it will come years from now. Regardless, you can't just give up the hope that there's someone phenomenal out there.

So yeah, maybe I hadn't found the guy or the booty call of my dreams, but I was healthy, happy, and surrounded by people that I care about. I was moving forward and meeting new people, exploring new things and places. And I was going to be perfectly fine.

On Call, Not On Chuck

"A fuck buddy is a guy you probably dated once or twice, but it didn't really go anywhere, but the sex was so great, you sorta of keep him on call."

-Carrie Bradshaw

-

My coworker told me this super Nicholas Sparks-y story about how he and his booty call fell in love, and how his booty call ended up being his soulmate. His booty call then died, and then made him his beneficiary, so he got all of this stuff when the fuck buddy died. It made me not want to date Rafael even more, and the thought of inheriting the mountains of clothing made me want to gag myself with a floral printed scarf. God, did Rafael even have anything worth inheriting? Maybe that crock pot?

It somehow became story time, as my coworkers told me stories of caution and gave me unsolicited advice, some of it nice, some of it being of the excessive nature. Multiple people told me that I needed a team of guys, and out of all the guys that I have slept with, there is only one that I would be willing to have between the sheets regularly...and I'm already sleeping with him!

Sure, Louis wasn't half bad, and of course Chuck was great too, but I couldn't sleep with either of them again! And the rest of the guys I slept with...gag me with a fucking spoon.

"So he woke you up in the middle of the night? Maybe he just didn't want you to think that he left in the middle of the night," Gwyneth said. She was a nice girl, and extremely kind.

"It was his place!"

"Then why did he wake you up?"

Everyone had the same reaction: they wanted to know why he woke me up, why he had no toilet paper, and what the actual fuck his roommate was cooking in a crockpot at 3 am. It was Friday, and I had secretly wanted to see Rafael again...but he was out of town for the weekend, back in the suburbs visiting his family. Even though I hadn't texted him since the excursion, I was definitely planning on seeing him again- not in a romantic context though, of course.

After getting home from work, I resisted the urge to text Rafael or Chuck about something frivolous. So, I pulled off the green maxi dress I was wearing, threw my hair over my shoulder in a sexual way, and I took a sexy picture to send to Rafael. Lace bra, banging boobs, tiny waist- all the things that I wanted to show off.

Just because I didn't want to date him, didn't mean that he should forget about me during his little trip. I sent it to him, and then proceeded to eat my kale salad and watch some Netflix.

I read out of my PCAT prep book, swiped through Tinder, I did everything to distract myself from the fact that he didn't say anything back. I mean, I wasn't expecting a sonnet about my body or a declaration of love, even a winky face would have satisfied me! Did he not think that it was bombtastic? Or maybe, possibly, he didn't want to be my booty call?

I pondered this crazy thought for about five seconds- Did Rafael Mancilla want something more than sex?

And then I started laughing uncontrollably. I mean yes, he did text me after the mess we had, he did ask me what I was up to, he has remembered me, he asked to cuddle and talk, and he did want to walk me downstairs before I was such a sassa-fras about it...but he's Rafael Mancilla.

Rafael Mancilla doesn't want anything besides sex, he practically thrives off of sex. For God's sake, he thought that a week and a half without sex constituted as "a long time," and he's slept with over twenty people! I am certain that at least once a week he goes out to pick up girls...actually, to be honest, he's so lazy that he probably just plucks them off of Tinder. He scoops up poor, unsuspecting women that think he's cute and charming, and makes them think that he's romantically interested in them, only to have an excuse as to why he can't date them....and then he fucks them! That is what he does.

And do you know how I know that?

Because that's what he did with me!

And that is why he's on call, and that is why I can keep him on call. Because there's no temptation to fall madly in love, or to scheme and make him my boyfriend. There is no temptation to cuddle with him all night, and to stay up late talking about our hopes and dreams and all that nonsense. No need to go get late night cupcakes, no need to wander the city at night, talking all night long. No need to make boring-ass benches into the most romantic place in Chicago, nor to binge watch Bob's Burgers together. Rafael will not be showing up at 3 am drunk, and Rafael and I will not be hosting Friendsgivings together. So there's no tears, no heartbreak, and no failed relationship and constantly being sucked in.

Because after Chuck, I didn't believe in true love and romance like I did before, I didn't have the hope and embarrassing bravery that I did before. I just had an ice-cold and jaded heart, and I was perfectly fine with that. And that was why having Rafael on call was the best arrangement that I could possibly think of, and what I really wanted from him.

The sexy text was sent, and I was truthfully a little excited for the next encounter.

All She Needs is You....To Stop Waking Her Up

"Trust me, I don't need you."

-Jack & Jack (Doing It Right)

-

I would like to think that I was supremely sexy and that we went at it again because he wanted me....not because he was trying to distract me from the guacamole.

I laid there, frozen against the mattress, as Rafael stood there, panting and practically gasping for air. I'm not going to go into more detail, I'll just say that Rafael likes making messes...on my chest and stomach area.

"Rafael, go get a fucking towel, this is disgusting!" I said, trying not to move. The last time he had made a mess (in February) it was the biggest mess I had seen in my entire life- it was like he hadn't beat it since he was twelve! This time wasn't as colossal, but it was still gross. I had no idea where he had been or what he's been doing, after all.

Rafael wiped me off with a mystery cloth, and chuckled a bit.

"Did you just wipe me with one of your dirty shirts?" I asked, as he chucked the mystery garment back on to Dirty Clothes Mountain. 

"Even worse," Rafael said, grinning at me... "It's my boxers." I looked at him in shock. 

HE WIPED HIS MESS OFF OF ME WITH HIS DIRTY BOXERS.

"Oh my god."

After a little post-sex chatting (We talked about grad school, and he told me about all the things he makes in his crock pot...and what his plans were before he just got a random degree), I excused myself to go to the restroom (Always pee after sex! It prevents UTIs!) 

Upon finishing, I turned to reach for a piece of toilet paper, only to see that there was absolutely none. 

Rafael lived in a house with two other guys, was there absolutely no one in this apartment that was quasi responsible? I looked in all the cabinets and drawers, hoping that some young lady that had previously wandered through this parts had been faced with my dilemma, and then placed some wipes or paper for the next poor unfortunate soul. Nothing. 

To be honest, I was so annoyed with him that I contemplated wiping my lady parts off with a towel, but resisted.

I peeked outside to see Rafael scrolling through his phone, and snuck over to the next bathroom. There was nothing in the second as well.

"You have no toilet paper," I said, walking out of the bathroom.

Rafael looked up at me, and said, "Check the other bathroom."

Was he serious? I swear to you, there is no man more irritating than Rafael Mancilla.

I gave him a look, and responded, "I did. There's none."

"No way," Rafael said, getting up. He walked into each bathroom, and looked at them, in disbelief. "Where the fuck is the toilet paper?"

"I told you so," I said, standing in the hallway as Rafael walked through the living room, to the kitchen. He appeared moments later, and threw a roll at me, which I somehow managed to catch gracefully and without hesitation.

"Nice catch," Rafael said, with a wink. 

I walked back to the bed, where he was laying, under the covers. He looked at his phone, and shook his head for a second, "Fuck, it's midnight already... I'm going to regret this later."

I turned to face him, and gave him quite possibly the evillest look that I have ever given anyone. I gave him phenomenal sex, and he couldn't wait until I left to say this shit. Almost immediately, Rafael fired back, "Not that you came over, but that I stayed up this late. Fuck, Blair." He pointed at the light, "You can stay or you can go, it's whatever you want," he added.

"It's whatever you want, I don't care" I responded. I really didn't, but if he wanted to cuddle all night or feed me guacamole, I wouldn't shoot it down.

"Me, I would go home and sleep in my own bed, but that's just me. I don't know, because you're a girl and shit. It doesn't matter to me."

"Is this your way of telling me to get the fuck out?"

"No, because if I wanted you to get you the fuck out, I would have told you to get the fuck out already."

Now, in any other situation, I would have been like, "Deuces! Byeeee!" and gone home, but I was laying naked in his bed, and I had been laying naked in his bed for a while, and I was comfortable and sleepy laying naked in his bed.

Plus, I didn't care what he thought about me. If I was trying to be his lady or whatever, I would have left in fear of looking too clingy or whatever, but I was tired and I gave zero fucks. I know that guys don't like girls staying because they don't want to confuse them, they don't want to give off the wrong idea, and they don't want to give them breakfast or whatever, but this was none of those situations! I wasn't confused, I didn't get the wrong idea, and I didn't want any breakfast from Rafael! I didn't need or want anything from him besides sex, guacamole, and toilet paper.

"Okay, then I'm sleeping because it's late."

"Okay, but I don't do any of that cuddling bullshit, plus it's hot in here."

I turned the other way, and then pulled the covers up, "That's totally fine, because I don't either, and I don't give a fuck." I could feel Rafael staring back at me in shock, although I was facing the other way. I knew that he was used to being the asshole back to the clingy and sad girls that wanted commitment or something more from him. But I wasn't clingy or sad, and I didn't want anything more from him. 

Later that night...

I woke up, realizing as soon as I opened my eyes that Rafael had woken me up. The last time a guy I was casually sleeping with woke me up was when Johnny woke me up in the middle of the night because he was going to eat Poptarts or some stupid shit like that- which annoyed the living hell out of me.

There are only a few good reasons to wake Blair up-

1. The apartment is on fire
2. There is a murderer
3. Blair didn't wake up when her alarm went off
4. Someone is dying

"Ugh, this better be good," I grumbled, as I sat up.

"It's hot as hell in here, so I'm going to sleep on the couch now."

"You woke me up for this?" I stared back at Rafael in disbelief, half exhausted and half annoyed.

"Yeah, I wanted to tell you that I was going."

My face was now 100% disbelief...was he shitting me?

"Why'd you wake me up for this? Go ahead, more bed for me, I don't give a fuck," I mumbled, as I started to fall asleep again.

I was in disbelief, was he really waking me up to announce that he was going to sleep on the couch now? What the fuck? I didn't care where he was going or what he was doing, and unless he was leaving to catch a murderer or to go to Taco Bell, he should have just let me sleep! I didn't care that his ass was going to the couch. God forbid, did he expect me to go sleep on his nasty frat boy couch?

I made a mental note that just for that nonsense, I should leave when he was fast asleep.

Even later that night...

I woke up abruptly, immediately sensing that Rafael had woke me up again.

"Erghb, what do you want this time?" I groaned, as I rolled over to the left of the bed.

"I'm coming back to bed," Rafael said, as he crawled on the bed.

WHAT THE FUCK.

I gave him the most exhausted, but dirty look I could have. Did he really wake me up just to tell me that he was coming back to bed?

I resisted the urge to push him off his own bed. Plus, I was way too tired to even swat him away. I don't know why, even now, Rafael thought it was necessary to announce his presence and wake me up from my sleep to tell me that he was going to sleep on the couch, and then to tell me that he was coming back.

"Urgh, I don't care," I rambled, as I was falling asleep, "Stop waking me up...I don't give a fuck...sleep."

After that, I definitely was going to sneak out while he was sleeping.

Even more later that night...

I woke up to hear a weird clicking noise in the background.

"Fuck, I'm going to die now, and this is when this asshole doesn't wake me up," I thought to myself.

"What the fuck is that?" I said, as the clicking noise continued.

"Urgh, Blair.." Was he going to get mad for me waking his ass up now? SERIOUSLY? After he woke me up not only to tell me that he was going to sleep on the couch, but also to tell me that his whack ass was coming back to the bed...he was going to get annoyed?

"Go to bed, ergh."

That morning...

"You woke me up twice! I could have lived without knowing that you were going to sleep on the couch or that you were coming back," I said, as I searched the heaps of clothes for my floral printed romper.

"Yeah, well you woke me up all 'what the fuck is that noise,' it was my roommate and the crock pot," Rafael responded, as if his roommate cooking random shit in a crock pot at 3 am was a totally normal occurrence in 214.

What the hell was up with these guys and their crock pots? And what the actual fuck was his roommate making at three fucking AM in a crockpot. And why is this just a totally normal thing? Rafael literally told me that his roommate was cooking (I hope) with the crockpot at 3 am, as if it was nothing strange. Seriously though, what the hell was this kid making at 3 am? Fucking breakfast? Did everyone in 214 make absurb crock pot meals at inappropriate times of the day?

"Why the fuck was he using the crock pot at 3 am?" 

Rafael looked back at me, as if I was the crazy one. He walked out of the room, and I pulled on my romper, and called my Uber. See, I was leaving his apartment, and I didn't even feel the need to announce it or tell him- he left the damn bed the night before, and woke me up!

Rafael walked into the room, and gave me a stern look, as he held up a travel sized tube of Korres moisturizer. He looked at me, as if I was an untrained puppy, and he was holding a torn apart shoe in his hands. SERIOUSLY, you would think that he was holding cocaine or something in his hand, but it was a tiny tube of face cream!

"Did you leave this here?" Rafael asked, in an accusatory term.

"Hell no, that's not mine." I fired back. Did he really think that I was,

1. The type of girl that wanted to leave something at his place
2. Dumb enough to leave that out of all things I could "accidentally" leave there.
3. That I brought a tube of face cream? HELL, if I ever come back to that appointment the only thing I would bring is fucking toilet paper and a toothbrush (not to leave...I just don't want gingivitis!)

SERIOUSLY THOUGH. None of my actions hinted that I was even remotely interested in him. The only things I wanted from him this whole time were sex, toilet paper, guacamole, and for him to stop waking me up while I was sleeping!

"Well I found it in the bathroom, and it's not mine or any of my roomates.' I've never seen it before," Rafael shot at me, accusing me even more.

"What the fuck? It's not mine," I responded, coldly. I zipped up my Kate Spade, as his expression changed in a matter of seconds.

"Oh, okay, it must be one of the girls' that my roommates have had over," Rafael said, casually. 

Okay, so there are hordes of women parading through this apartment. Ew. Maybe I should bring toilet seat covers next time...and get tested for STIs/STDs. I then wondered for a brief moment if it was Crock Pot Boy bringing these hordes of women back.

"Okay, well, my Uber is coming," I said, as I put my shoes on. If there was ever a great time for an Uber to come, it would be that exact moment.

"Let me walk you to the door," Rafael said. He sounded a little bit surprised, and I wondered for a brief moment if he expected me to announce that I was going to call an Uber beforehand. I wouldn't be surprised, because his ass seems to unnecessarily announce everything.

"It's fine, you don't need to," I said, as I headed to the door. It really wasn't necessary, it wasn't like he was my boyfriend or anything. He wouldn't even share his guacamole with me, or get me toilet paper without any snark, and now he wanted to walk me to the door? What happened to "I don't do this cuddling bullshit," or "why can't people have casual sex."

There was a little bit of back and forth ("you don't have to"), but he did end up walking me to the door, and I left, saying, "Okay, bye."

I didn't kiss him goodbye nor did I text him after that. Maybe I was mean, or maybe I seemed icy, but Rafael was trying to be caring one minute, and then heartless the second. Maybe it was because I knew that I couldn't confuse any bit of quasi-respectfulness as something sweet and considerate. Maybe it was because Chuck had left me feeling so jaded about romance and relationships. Or just maybe, it was a combination of the both.