Sometime before I met James, I met Jack. No that not his real name, but it’s appropriate as I wouldn’t be surprised if he hears it along with the name ‘ass’ more than he hears his actual name.
I can’t quite recall what Man-Shopping website I found him on in my glee of being a single girl window shopping. Regardless it was on the internet that I did find him. I also don’t recall any actual conversations we had prior to meeting thus can only assume that I wasn’t going out with him due to some kind of stimulating conversation.
What I do recall is that the photo he had chosen to post on the internet was intriguing to me in way I am intrigued by the idea of wearing a sexy pair of pumps that I have seen in a shop window. I have always had a fondness for the tall dark and handsome type. Jack was definitely not dark – and perhaps it is the narcissist in me that found him attractive. He was tall, reasonably good looking and like me, blond and quite fair.
He didn’t hide his pride in his looks. In fact it was quite the opposite. When I semi-jokingly told him to remove his shirt at my kitchen table so that I could examine his body, he gladly removed it and smiled seemingly quite proud of the packaging his presented ego came in.
He was perfectly muscled and had obviously put a lot of time into making his body look the way it did.
I learned after chatting a while, we had some things in common and though he was attractive, something about him struck me as unavailable. Not physically so – but emotionally. From this first night he removed his shirt we continued a somewhat distant friendship. Perhaps I had subconsciously categorized Jack into the ‘not much deeper than a crepe’ category – and truth be told I am much more of a ‘thick fluffy pancake’ girl myself. Don’t get me wrong. He was as intelligent as he was good looking. He just didn’t seem to have much emotional depth.
I have never asked him much about his personal relationships – or personal anything for that matter. It was never so much that I didn’t care like I did about my other friends; I just assumed there was nothing there to know.
As Jack progressed into a relationship that had lasted a couple years, I started to assume he was more than a thin relationship breakfast carb and perhaps had some depth. I started making the odd joke about how Jack may have had more to him than I had previous always assumed.
Lately though, I have been thinking more about who Jack is.
Here is the ‘Real Jack’ that I imagine when filling in the blanks:
- I think more than anything he is very sensitive and equally insecure. Perhaps more so than the average guy. I suspect he has been hurt when he either didn’t expect it, or failed to save / maintain a relationship when at that time he would have liked to have seen it work.
- I think Jack pretends to be a Jackass because he bit of a sissy. Yep, I said it. Sissy. It is easier for no one to get close, because getting close means potential rejection when it comes to getting to know someone. Rejection hurts.
- I think that Jack is very afraid of rejection.
- Though the part of me that found him attractive when I met him, secretly hoped he liked wild and intense sex, I speculate at the very least once in a while, he would want to slow it down a little and feel the person next to him in a way that lets him fulfill his secret need to feel loved.
Most importantly none of it matters. I would adore Jack with his unique ability to have some misunderstanding people label him as an asshole in the first ten minutes of meeting him. I would adore Jack if he was as sensitive as I am, and just as afraid of the potential hurt that commitment and being an open book can bring.
I do enjoy the enigma that Jack is. I enjoy poking fun at it and having him always retort with an answer that leads me no closer to knowing what Jack really is on the inside. I like being able to fill in the blanks in my own way, with whatever I feel like during the particular time I am talking to him.
It’s always fun speculating about what other people are really about – and I have come to learn that no matter how sincere or insincere the façade, it is irrelevant because we never really know anyone anyways. So as long as he wants to keep it that way, knowing Jack shit about Jack, is just fine with me.
I can’t quite recall what Man-Shopping website I found him on in my glee of being a single girl window shopping. Regardless it was on the internet that I did find him. I also don’t recall any actual conversations we had prior to meeting thus can only assume that I wasn’t going out with him due to some kind of stimulating conversation.
What I do recall is that the photo he had chosen to post on the internet was intriguing to me in way I am intrigued by the idea of wearing a sexy pair of pumps that I have seen in a shop window. I have always had a fondness for the tall dark and handsome type. Jack was definitely not dark – and perhaps it is the narcissist in me that found him attractive. He was tall, reasonably good looking and like me, blond and quite fair.
He didn’t hide his pride in his looks. In fact it was quite the opposite. When I semi-jokingly told him to remove his shirt at my kitchen table so that I could examine his body, he gladly removed it and smiled seemingly quite proud of the packaging his presented ego came in.
He was perfectly muscled and had obviously put a lot of time into making his body look the way it did.
I learned after chatting a while, we had some things in common and though he was attractive, something about him struck me as unavailable. Not physically so – but emotionally. From this first night he removed his shirt we continued a somewhat distant friendship. Perhaps I had subconsciously categorized Jack into the ‘not much deeper than a crepe’ category – and truth be told I am much more of a ‘thick fluffy pancake’ girl myself. Don’t get me wrong. He was as intelligent as he was good looking. He just didn’t seem to have much emotional depth.
I have never asked him much about his personal relationships – or personal anything for that matter. It was never so much that I didn’t care like I did about my other friends; I just assumed there was nothing there to know.
As Jack progressed into a relationship that had lasted a couple years, I started to assume he was more than a thin relationship breakfast carb and perhaps had some depth. I started making the odd joke about how Jack may have had more to him than I had previous always assumed.
Lately though, I have been thinking more about who Jack is.
Here is the ‘Real Jack’ that I imagine when filling in the blanks:
- I think more than anything he is very sensitive and equally insecure. Perhaps more so than the average guy. I suspect he has been hurt when he either didn’t expect it, or failed to save / maintain a relationship when at that time he would have liked to have seen it work.
- I think Jack pretends to be a Jackass because he bit of a sissy. Yep, I said it. Sissy. It is easier for no one to get close, because getting close means potential rejection when it comes to getting to know someone. Rejection hurts.
- I think that Jack is very afraid of rejection.
- Though the part of me that found him attractive when I met him, secretly hoped he liked wild and intense sex, I speculate at the very least once in a while, he would want to slow it down a little and feel the person next to him in a way that lets him fulfill his secret need to feel loved.
Most importantly none of it matters. I would adore Jack with his unique ability to have some misunderstanding people label him as an asshole in the first ten minutes of meeting him. I would adore Jack if he was as sensitive as I am, and just as afraid of the potential hurt that commitment and being an open book can bring.
I do enjoy the enigma that Jack is. I enjoy poking fun at it and having him always retort with an answer that leads me no closer to knowing what Jack really is on the inside. I like being able to fill in the blanks in my own way, with whatever I feel like during the particular time I am talking to him.
It’s always fun speculating about what other people are really about – and I have come to learn that no matter how sincere or insincere the façade, it is irrelevant because we never really know anyone anyways. So as long as he wants to keep it that way, knowing Jack shit about Jack, is just fine with me.