Didn't Expect You (Against All Odds #2) - Claudia Burgoa Page 0,107

I was at the dentist office, and the receptionist was listening to some ‘dating expert’ on talk radio—or maybe it was her computer. It really doesn’t matter. The point is that this woman was discussing the subject of falling in love with her partner—again. I was pretty confused at first, until she explained further about a so-called love cycle.

According to this ‘authority in love,’ a couple has to keep the flame burning for each other. Tend to their relationship the same way farmers do with their lands. Each season is different. They plant, they water, they harvest, they clean, so next season, they can start all over again. When a caller asked her what falling in love meant, her answer made me laugh.

According to this ‘expert,’ falling is different from being in love, and it all starts with a feeling that makes someone want to be next to the person. Falling is embracing the out of control, overwhelming emotion that accelerates one’s heart into the speed of light. One knows that they’re in love when they make a special place in their life for that other person.

Living in love (yes, that’s how she phrased it) is different, though. It means that someone stays willingly with their significant other despite their flaws and even when they drive you crazy.

If you are in love, you want to stick around the other person, even when you don’t like them at times.

I wanted to tell her, Lady, your advice is shit. If someone doesn’t like the person they are with, they should move on.

Why would I choose to be around someone who I can’t stand when it’s clear we are not compatible?

It’s obvious that woman is from another planet or hasn’t met me. My guess is that she got some fancy degree in shit-talk that allows her to spew crap. She only knows a few people. There are billions of humans in this world, and we don’t all fall in love or even need it to live.

According to that woman—and maybe all the women I’ve been with—I’m shallow because I can’t see past appearances. It’s not about accepting flaws or loving what’s inside. This world is complicated enough to also be forced to stay around people who don’t make one’s life better.

I just do what I love the most. Sex.

Sex is the only reason why I bother finding fuck buddies. Let me tell you, I deliver a fan-fucking-tastic time. But that’s exactly where my problem begins. I was taught to be thoughtful and caring about what’s entrusted to me.

Women trust me with their bodies, and I do my best to treat them like queens. But it never fails. They always want more. It doesn’t matter that we both agreed it’d be casual. They demand more from me. Then, they urge me to reciprocate their feelings. I’m physically and emotionally incapable of following through with what they want from me.

In my opinion, love exists. It’s just not for everyone.

Most of all, it’s not for me.

Let’s be logical. Not everything in this world is for everyone. We are all different. I am the kind of guy who doesn’t fall in love. I’m not heartless. Just because I don’t wear my heart on my sleeve, it doesn’t mean that I don’t have one. I’m wired differently.

Some men struggle to describe what love is. Me? I can’t even feel it. Which brings me to this exact moment when the woman I’ve been fucking for the last couple of months makes the unilateral decision to modify our agreement—and if I don’t comply, it’s over.

“I thought we had a connection,” she repeats. “I’ve never felt this way before.”

Can we pause for a second?

What Martha infers is that I’m the first lover she’s had who isn’t a selfish bastard. I’ll let you in on a little secret. Sex is more enjoyable when you put your partner’s pleasure before your own. Personally, it turns me on to know that the woman I am with is high on endorphins because of me.

Now, fast forward to this moment. I can tell her one of two things: “You should be careful about who you invite into your bed,” or “I was upfront with you when I said this won’t be more than sex.”

There’s no use in discussing this any further. It’s over.

I put on my pants and walk toward the staircase. I slip on my sneakers before climbing down the stairs.

Why do people complicate everything?

Life is simple.

Relationships should be easy, not some crazy affair where