More Drama with The Artist

A conversation via text and email with the Artist, a couple weeks since we last saw each other with no contact in between [translation/analysis in brackets]:

Her: “I was thinking about you and wanted to say hi. I hope your time off was sweet.”

[What RooshV calls a Restart Text.]

Me: “Hello, dear. How are you?”

[Ditch the “dear”. It sends the wrong message.]

Her: “Good. How are things with your new girl?”

[She’s fishing.]

Me: “It didn’t go further than the first date [with Reformed Wild Child]. The vibe was off.”

[In hindsight, if I’d said, “Yep, we’re doing good,” maybe she’d have stopped texting me then. Or maybe not.]

Her: “I miss you more than you’re miss me. It must be the oxytocin.”

[Here goes drama.]

Me: “I can’t blame you for that. I’m fantastic.”

[That’s my boy, play it cool and cocky.]

[Hours later]

Her: “Are we just throwing our connection away?”

[Hamster time.]

Me: “We’re still friends. We agreed to this.”

[Remember our longass conversation when you tried to claw and grasp and hold on to something that was no longer there?]

Her: “You haven’t been my friend. Last time we saw each other, you missed me and wanted more. It’s a shame.”

[Wtf. Seriously? How about when I willingly played your emotional tampon as you were pining for your guy friend/crush? Of course, I did it for the sex.]

Me: “I’m sorry.”

[Seriously.]

Her: “Did I really mean that little to you?”

[Omfg.]

Me: “Let’s not go there. We talked about this. I’ll be here if you need a friend.”

[I don’t want to fucking talk about it.]

Her: “A friend is someone who’s present with what’s real between two people. Our connection was rare and real. I’m sorry your heart’s not open to appreciate this. It’s a gift that doesn’t come around often.”

[More hamster speak.]

Me: “You may be right about my heart. I’m sorry. Good night.”

[Throw back some bullshit.]

Her: “I honor where you are. I want to find a way to begin a new friendship between us. There’s no need to be sorry. You are where you are. I want to share dinner with you next week if you like. I promise to keep our pants on if you that’s what you want.”

[You won’t be seeing my underpants ever again.]

[The next day]

Her: “You’ve done exactly as you said you would and pushed me away. You say we’re friends, but that’s confusing, considering that you haven’t reached out to me for a while. The connection we found is worthy of a true friendship but a friendship is something created equally by two. You’ve been invited to share dinner with me. If this is a friendship you truly want, the next move is on you.

[Guilt and ultimatum.]

Me: don’t feel comfortable hanging out. That’s where I am and appreciate you understand this.

[Es verdad.]

Her: Thanks for being honest. When you’re ready to be friends, let me know. I care about you and appreciate you being there for me. I hope to be there for you, too. Looking forward to a fun, fulfilling, and trusting friendship in the future.

[Analysis from DragonChic, my loyal female friend.]

She’s grasping for more. She wants to date you. Trying to guilt you and all that. You can’t be platonic friends. You can’t put the cat back in the hat. She knows you’ll give in. If you don’t want her, don’t go back. It wasn’t a friendship to begin with. It was sexual. You can’t coddle her through this. You’re the reason she’s upset.