Page 26 of Sincerely, Your Enemy

“Once or twice,” I lie.

“All right. Then you know how much it sucks when it first happens, but then, nine times out of ten, once you look back, you’ll realize silence is better than someone rejecting you to your face.”

“I disagree. I think it would sting at first, but getting a clear explanation is better than wondering forever why they didn’t want you,” I counter.

“No, see, that’s what we tell ourselves, but we really don’t need to know why they didn’t want us. It’ll only fuck us up in the long run. For example, if they bring up something you’ve never liked about yourself, like a physical trait, it’ll only feed into that insecurity and make it humiliating. And even if they do give you a reason, odds are it’s a lie to spare your feelings.”

My mouth drops.

Shit, is he right?

I’ve definitely rejected people before with an excuse because sometimes the truth would be too cruel to share.

“Plus, rejection is not even really about you. It all depends on the person’s taste in a partner, their values, their own insecurities, but in the grand scheme of things, that’s just one insignificant person’s opinion. Take ghosting as someone doing you a favor and thank the universe for taking the trash out.”

I’d never seen it that way before. There was a time where I would’ve done anything to get a reason out of Theo. I told myself I needed to know why I wasn’t dating material, but at the end of the day, he just didn’t think young me was good enough to date, which, of course, he never told me, but if he had, it would’ve destroyed what was left of my self-esteem.

“Next lesson, making conversation. You need to ask your date questions, but not too many. Think of it as taking turns. Ifyou ask a question, and they answer it, then it’s on them to either say what about you or to ask another question. This way, you’ll know quickly if they’re the kind of person who only likes to talk about themselves or if they genuinely want to know more about you.”

“But what if they don’t ask a question back? Just sit there in silence?”

“Yes. Learn to get comfortable with that awkward silence. I know you’ll be tempted to fill it with small talk, but you shouldn’t because let’s say you’re someone who has great conversation skills. You might get confused and think you had a great time when really, it was you carrying that conversation. And they were just doing the bare minimum. You want someone who makes an effort.”

Wow. Am I insane, or is TJ actually making sense right now?

“And we need to talk about your rambling. You ramble way too much,” he declares.

I could deny it, but considering he had a front-row seat to me telling Aaron he would be a good person to stalk, I would be wasting my breath.

“How do I fix it?”

“If you get nervous, try counting to three in your head before you start talking. Just to give yourself a chance to sort out your thoughts.”

That sounds simple enough.

“Oh, and make eye contact when they’re talking. Shows you’re really listening. And it’ll make you seem confident.”

“But what if I’m not confident?”

“Fake it. He doesn’t have to know.”

“Okay, so count to three, make eye contact. What else?”

“I think that pretty much covers the first date.” He stops to think. “Now, what are you going to wear?”

“I’m not sure. I was thinking something comfortable, laid-back. I’ll figure it out later.”

“Yeah, no. I’m going to need to see some options.” He rises from his seat and takes off in the direction of my bedroom. “Bedroom’s this way?”

Well… looks like later came a lot earlier than I thought.

“Not even if you paid me,”I deadpan, assessing the outfit my “dating coach” laid out on my bed.

TJ grabs the black dress he picked out and brings it to the front of my body as if to get a better idea of how it would fit me. He’s been going through my closet for over ten minutes. “Why not? You’d look good in it. It’ll show off your…” He pauses. “…assets.”

I snort out a laugh. He means my tits and ass. Although, he gets an A for trying not to be too crude.

“He doesn’tneedto see my assets. He’s taking me to a coffee place, not a stripper joint,” I oppose and rip the dress out of his hands to shove it back into my closet.

---