Pomo romance meets its inevitable conclusion

So as much as I complain about being pegged as the girl in the movies- the Natalie Portman, Kirsten Dunst, Kate Winslet bright yellow jacket girl, I kind of have it coming. I am just too adorable. And supportive. And spontaneous. And I roll with it. So I am asking for rejection from boys who can't help but overthink EVERYTHING and are scared that I don't mean it when I say "just tell me what's up."

I should have seen this one coming a mile away, when I explained my love/hate affair with the Zach Braffs of the world and how I was sick of movies that made the quirky fun girl into this ideal. I was sick of being some backwards amphetamined knight in shining armor... I'm not a concept. His response: "guys really do that though." I should have laced up my new balances right then and hit the ground running, but I was intrigued.

Fast forward a week to kiss cuddle revolution philosophizing in his bed and forgive me for getting the wrong idea... I thought this one might be going somewhere. Fast forward another week, and I decided "screw it, maybe I am a concept" and dressed up pretty for the part, deciding that maybe novelty isn't the worst thing in the world to be. So the other night, he was up late working on his thesis... or not working on his thesis, and I thought it would be super cute after I got out of my two after work engagements to bring him some brain food (beer and m&ms) and help him get some stuff down on page. I talk to him on the phone, then tell him i'll call him in 10 minutes (my estimation of how long it will take me to be in his neighborhood).

One hour later I call three times to no avail and realize that this is a terrible idea. But it's too late now, so I ring the doorbell. He answers and says... "So you didn't get my email." (his email of course being the 'it's not you, it's me. i hope we can still be friends speech... just in text') We then proceed to address concerns about me getting the wrong idea that he is interested in something besides friendship. And he seems very freaked out that I'm not freaked out and basically we spend an hour just talking about stuff. Mostly not us stuff, but all the other stuff that he says makes us stuff not possible right now (Jesus man, just say you don't think of me like that... why does it always have to be "I can't right now.") Then... get this he says, by way of explaining what happened last week, "i just can't resist cuddling." And I start hearing Amy Winehouse in the back of my brain...

The screenplay never tells you that's what happens next. Novelty is novel for a reason... because you can't deal with its reality. All in all, we're better friends for having talked it out. I tried to explain to him that this is just how I make friends with boys. Test drive them first and when the transmission goes decide it's better off this way. I'm not a playa, I just crush a lot.