Here’s where we left off: Lauren had just told me she called off the wedding and I was speechless.

It was harmless for a long time—flirting in the office and late night text messages could be discounted because she had a fiancée.  But what now? Does all this flirting actually mean something? Does she like me? Am I allowed to like her? What are the rules here? How do I play this situation?

My mind was racing with questions and I played it like any boyfriendy boy would: I was understanding. I took her out for drinks to be empathetic about her breakup. Having broken the heart of my live-in girlfriend about a year before, I had a lot to empathize with. So I became a source of comfort and understanding for her.  A dangerous place to be if I’m trying to NOT be a boyfriend. I wanted to avoid that. For her sake around the office and for my sake of falling into that role again, I would not be a boyfriend.

So one Saturday night several weeks later, she invited me to a bar to meet up with her and her friends. I show up sober and she’s pretty drunk which is never a good combination; so I decide to even the score. Three tequila shots and a vodka-tonic later and I’m whispering inappropriate compliments when her friends aren’t looking. And before I know it, we’re back at her place…

“But you yadayada’d over the best part”

“No, I mentioned the bisque…”

…Now it’s 5am and I decide to decline the sleepover invitation (which turned out to be a smart move, after I later found out her ex-fiancé hadn’t moved out yet. Next to dying in a plane crash, it is my greatest fear to be woken up by an angry ex-fiancé as I lie in his bed, naked with his ex).

Thus starts the thin line I walk of trying to shed my boyfriend role. I made sure to never go out on a date: order in and hook up. Always. And always split it. Over the next few weeks we started going to lunch together. Ok, we never really ate lunch, but we would meet at my house, inspired by Starland Vocal Band.

I was on a roll avoiding the whole boyfriend issue.  And then, things started to change.  Thanksgiving came and while I stayed in Detroit, she went back to New York. The long weekend opened itself up to late night phone calls, quick check-in emails about what’s going on, and worse: “I miss you” texts.

We kept hanging out and I kept putting off the issue. I kept my distance but it was unavoidable. We were up to two sleepovers a week, 3 dates a week. And Christmas was around the corner.  It’s always awkward to have a gift exchange a month or two into a relationship.

I got her a pair of tickets to a play, which meant a future date.  She made me a photo album.  Not so many photos, but clippings of things we’ve done together, inside jokes. Things she wanted to do with me, restaurant menus we’d talked about.  There was no avoiding the DTR talk at this point.  (Definition: Defining the relationship)

Lauren and I became official boyfriend and girlfriend before New Years and it lasted maybe another month before she realized that I had the curse. We had gotten to serious too fast and neither of us really wanted that.

Maybe I’m cursed to always play the boyfriend.  Maybe finding a girl not looking for a serious relationship will break the curse. Or maybe it’s not a curse at all…


2 Responses to “Guest Post by Boyfriendy Boy: Interoffice, Part 2”

  1. Huh Says:

    Let’s hope for your sake and for other single girls that not every guy you meet is as fundamentally flawed as this guy. He writes as though is seeking sympathy for his woes and afflictions! It’s time he realized he’s the asshole.


  2. Rose Says:

    Huh, :-)

    To boyfriend boy,

    Seriously, it’s as much your fault as it’s her’s. I mean you’re also paining yourself, by prolonging your relationship? with girls you never like to date in the first place. I mean, c’mon. You’ve good writing skills, you make every woman you meet feel like they should have a boyfriend like you, then why can’t you just wait till the right woman comes along who intrigues you a lot. Instead of going for whoever drags you. May be you should learn to be more assertive in life in general. Or if you think whatever comes easy is the best bet at that moment, then I pity you.

    I hate to preach, but couldn’t help this, ‘coz I wish you the best.

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