Hate is a Four-Letter Word

Hate is a Four-Letter Word (June, 2013)

Hans continued to engage me in inane conversations, despite his lack of intent to see me. All of our conversations revolved around cock. Particularly their size. You could say our repertoire was fairly limited. Not a recipe for sustained interest or continued contact. I felt like I was talking to a small child who insisted upon watching the same movie over and over. Robin Hood and Little John walking through the forest…

 

**5/21

Hans: did u here some bar in bk is having a smallest penis contest

Me: My friend told me that was this past Saturday

Hans: oh bummer

Me: Whatevs, you are obvs too big of a pussy to enter it

Me: It would involve interacting with ppl

Hans: obvs

Me: Do you enjoy mocking my abbreviations?

Hans: just mocking ur mocking of me

Hans: they should have a biggest penis contest. then we could go and would have a great selection to choose from.

Me: I would

Me: You can’t acquire cock w out putting yourself out there

Me: Personal question and then I gotta get back to studying…

Hans: mhm?

Me: On your blog you say your ex gf (whom you are creepily obsessed with) dumped you bc you are too small. Clearly not true. So what was the reason?

Hans: womp. we just weren’t really compatible, and my drinking didn’t help.

Me: Hmm, so why are you still creepily obsessed?

Me: I assume she doesn’t know about your blog

Hans: just sexually obsessed with the thought of her and a big cock. she had a very nice body.

Me: I mean, my college bf had a very nice body but I don’t still think of him sexually

Me: What are you like when you drink?

Hans: no, ha. a drunk.

Me: That’s pretty vague

Hans: I think it’s the cuckolding angle that I’m responding to. oh is it? I thought I was being quite specific.

Me: Does anyone you’ve dated know that much about you sexually or you just have a gross secret sex life?

Hans: I don’t appreciate ur use of the word gross. and yeah, some have known.

Me: Assuming your offers were real, I find it pretty ethically disturbing that you ask strangers to exchange pictures of exes.

Me: I think that warrants the word gross at very minimum.

Hans: fair enough

Hans: u get the answers you wanted for ur blog?

Me: Are you catering to an audience?

Hans: on my blog?

Me: no for mine. I was responding to your snarky comment.

Hans: ;P

Hans: obvs I’m catering to the hung straight dudes who like having their dicks sucked by sissy faggots like me

 

Here’s my line: I would have humiliated his smallish penis if he wanted me to . Would I have felt awkward about it? Sure. Certainly not a natural inclination of mine (to laugh at someone to his face or body shame him, especially for body parts I don’t find shameful). But individual mockery is whatever, a personal issue. On the other hand, systematic oppression is something I’ll pass on. I’m not going to call him a sissy faggot, even consensually. Those are words that have historically been used to discriminate against, control, and torture a group for their divergent sexuality. No thanks.

 

Me: Look, hans, I don’t think we have anything left to say to each other. If you sent me the link to your blog as a way to keep my continued attention, you’ve failed.

Me: There are some things about you I find sexy. Ultimately I’m not interested in a pen pal.

Hans: you want to suck cock together?

Me: I’m not going to respond to that.

Hans: right, cuz we know the answer is yes.

Me: That’s true, but that’s not why your question doesn’t dignify a response.

Hans: well I’ll keep an eye out for big dicks in the locker room

 

It doesn’t dignify a response because I don’t like to play pretend! I’m too old for this shit. I can play with real penises!

 

**6/14

He sent provocative conversation starters like “these Lizz tayler vids are hot,” and I ignored his negative attention for a while. Until I saw Annie and we snapped a picture of our giggling at his blog. Couldn’t resist. Captioned the photo “the ladies of okcupid” and included Annie’s quote “Why is it so super small when soft? That’s like a lot of contrast.”

 

** 6/18

Days later, when he tried to milk the moment dry, I told him to fuck off.

 

Hans: that’s hot that you showed annie my cock

Me: She giggled as all the ladies do

Me: You’re the only guy who’s ever sent me dick pics. How ironically vain of you.

Hans: fuck, I like that

Hans: u never got those big pix?

Me: What exactly do you mean by “big”? High resolution pics of your smallish penis so I can blow them up to life-sized?

Me: Why pretend you sent something you didn’t? What is the purpose of this rhetorical device?

Hans: I meant from ur ex, ha

Me: Ohhh

Me: I get it

Me: Nope, he never sent them. But he’s not an ex. Just some dude I was friends with. What I did get was permission to post this hilarious video that guy I refer to in my blog as davey sent me about a year ago.

Me: You might enjoy it since he’s half black

Me: Although his skin color is basically white

 

By the way, I saw Davey two months ago, and he told me that video wasn’t of him! He wanted me to clear up this misconception.

 

Hans: ohh. hmm

Hans: I haven’t been following ur blog, but apparently I’m missing some good stuff

Me: Nah, I’ve mostly been studying and not writing. Not sure I believe you haven’t been following it, though.

Me: You abandon your smallish penis blog?

Hans: haha, been learning about and building small musical electronics and such

Me: Obviously more important than entertaining ladies with your bobble cock

Me: Thanks to you my amazon keeps telling me that I want the bobble head of the grandpa from the simpsons

Hans: ha, thanks to yourself! I took offense to that.

Me: Really? Thought you wanted to be mocked. How am I supposed to know where the boundaries are?

Hans: haha, I like being called small, not bobble-head like. I know, it’s fairly specific.

Me: What other words do you like/dislike?

Hans: synonyms for “small” are okay

Me: I think you’re actually gonna look like the grandpa from the simpsons when you are old, so it wasn’t sheerly meant to be a penis reference

Hans: haha whaat? why do you say that

Hans: you and Annie look at dick pix a lot together?

Me: Yes, and when girls have sleepover parties they dance around in their bras and have naked pillow fights

Hans: I kneeeew it

Hans: you showed her my blog?

Me: Haven’t we already had this conversation?

Hans: you just sent me her quote wondering why it’s so super small when soft

Me: I guess I thought it was implied. Yes, I showed her your blog. It has been a solid source of amusement among me and my friends. Even though I sort of hate you, I guess that has sort of made talking to you worth my time.

Hans: wow, strong words, well at least it’s amusing.

Me: Some of it is hot too. Look I’m not trying to be mean. It isn’t as if I stopped talking to you because I didn’t enjoy our conversations.

Hans: Right. it’s hot to me to think of you and your friends laughing about my blog. just to say you hate me is strong.

Me: I want to elaborate, but I’m so behind on my work. Don’t want to be distracted.

Hans: it’s cool. I have some idea.

Me: I’m not sure why you would. Whatever, we can talk soon. I’m just so overwhelmed with my life right now.

Hans: oh, well then maybe I don’t know

 

**6/28

He followed up.

 

Hans: so I’m curious why you hate me

Me: Here is why I hate you. There are two reasons so let me get through both of them…

Me: The main reason is getting off with someone who doesn’t want to be friends with me and doesn’t want to hook up with me makes me feel even more lonely and pathetic than I already feel. While text message convos with you might be more exciting than porn, watching porn doesn’t make me feel pathetic because its supposed to be a passive, solitary activity…

Me: After my isolation in vermont followed by my medical torture, talking to you only amplifies my lack of human connection. It isn’t humanizing…

Me: At a certain point it is no longer exciting to speculate about hypotheticals that are never going to materialize. For me frustration isn’t synonymous with pleasure. It’s bad enough that I have an internet full of fake friends, some of whom were once my friends in real life…

Me: I don’t need to add some dude I met twice to my queue of guys who don’t like me enough to spend time with me. This whole situation feels kinda objectifying to me, like you will only talk to me about sex and get to decide which facets of me you will interact with…

Me: Then you asking me why I hate you is so ridiculous. What need do we have for this conversation? This is nothing but a meta relationship. There was way too much lead up, we hooked up once, and two months later we are still following up as if there is any new material worthy of comment…

Me: I’m interested in you as a person and body but these conversations are regressive and unfulfilling.

Me: The second reason I hate you is because I think you think I’m a mean person, yet you continue to engage me. It seems as if you believe I get off on telling you that you’re a useless person when you set up conditions such that you render yourself useless to me. When I call you out, you tell me I’m being a sadist. That isn’t fair to me.

Me: I do miss talking to you but talking to you makes me feel useless and depressed. That’s why I ignored a few of your messages.

Me: That’s the end of my explanation.

Hans: alright, welll crap, sorry I make you feel bad. it tends to be a trend these days that I make people feel bad.

Me: When you said you had some idea of why I hate you, what was the idea?

Hans: cuz I shared pictures of my ex gf with random dudes on the internet, or because I wanted you to engage in body shaming me

Me: Well the former could prob go on my list since it’s seriously disturing to me and makes me wary of you. The latter could not go on my list. People are entitled to ask for what they want. I probably would have been willing to do it but that’s moot now.

Me: It’s actually so much less gross than what most guys want.

Hans: the former was like a compulsion, like I was conflicted about it, believed that it was wrong, yet sometimes could not resist the pleasure it gave me.

Me: I mean I know you know it’s wrong but I’m pretty sure you cannot fathom to what extent it could ruin a girl’s life. Also it’s fucked up that you don’t seem to make a distinction between the two. Like why would I put them on the same level when one isn’t consensual and puts someone else in jeopardy? I couldn’t care less what weird shit you get off to as long as it doesn’t involve children or animals or retarded people or whatever.

Me: Your getting off with strangers on the internet goes both under my list of reasons I think you’re pathetic and list of reasons I don’t feel that bad about how you’ve treated me.

Me: It’s hard to take it that personally considering you think long distance joint masturbatory sessions are something to aspire to.

Hans: what I don’t get is why you still talk to me considering all these things

Me: Couldn’t I ask the same of you?

Hans: yeah, talking to you usually doesn’t make me feel more alone, it makes me feel less alone

Hans: and you are pretty intelligent

Hans: and analytical

Me: I see

Hans: [EMOTICON]

Me: Ha ha, okay so when you send me emoticons they turn into droid aliens. I’m never sure how they are intended to look. That one looks like an alien choking on vomit.

 

Every so often, Hans would contact me with more of the same. For example, “thought we could finally suck that big dick together.” This went on through DECEMBER, as in eight full months from when we hooked up once. I told him he was a novelty that had expired and told him off, “Gross. I was done with you months ago. Stop bothering me.”

 

More like a novelty that never materialized. Worse yet, fetishes are borrrring. SPH is meant for one-time-use only, kinda silly and weird and kinky then the excitement expires and it becomes a drag. All conversations revolve around it. Everything becomes a conduit for transmitting the fetish, your body included. Almost objectifying. He doesn’t care about me and my desires. As long as I tell him his penis is “small,” but not “bobbly.” Like I’ve been reduced to some hole that is just slightly too loose for him. And all my past experiences have to fit into his conception of desirability vis-à-vis his penis. I still don’t understand how humiliation works. Like how it could be ‘humiliating’ to tell someone everything they want to hear. I think that’s called ‘staged.’ He should pay a sex worker for that. I have needs. Like human contact.

 

Goodbye, Hans.