Rebound girl

I want to be the rebound girl; the one he chooses; the one who benefits from everything the woman before me has done: the constant nights of arguing, her cheating, lying, reckless dealing with his heart. I want that man; the one she convinced to get braces, to let her take him shopping, to layer his sweaters with Thomas Pink shirts, to feel it was okay to wear purple shirts and pink ties; the one she introduced to the fit of designer jeans, Cole Haan shoes, sport coats, linen pants, boat shoes, sunglasses, leather flip flops, and white watches; the one she taught how to pick a girly movie, sit through the ballet without fidgeting, plan a dinner party, and give great oral. Then she left, most likely because she thought he was too boring, too shy–she wanted more out of life–someone less sullen, someone funnier. “I want someone who makes me laugh,” she probably told him.

I want a man who knows what pains feels like; one who wakes in the morning thinking of the same woman he spent all night crying over. One who has contemplated not going to work soon after the breakup because he felt weak. I want someone whose showers in the morning were filled with tears and constant thoughts of her face; who couldn’t stop thinking of what she said (probably something like, “I love you, but I’m not in love with you.”); the one whose friends check up on because he is taking it a bit too hard. I want someone who wanted someone that didn’t want them. I want it to have taken him a few days before he was able to eat again or for him to have eaten everything in sight just to suppress the thoughts of life without her. I want him to have seen beautiful women but to not have looked at them sexually during the first few months after the breakup. Maybe his friends tried to hook him up during that time, but he will have refused because he wouldn’t have been over her.

Six months will have passed and he will still feel a little pain when he hears her favorite song or sees her friends but he will be much better. He will use the gym and pick up games of basketball as his therapy. I want someone who, after seven months of reflection, goes on a few dates and they go well. He’ll sleep with a few women but there will be no real connection.

Almost a year would have passed and then I want to meet him. I’ll say all the right things. I won’t call too much, and I’ll seem just the right amount of uninterested. He’ll hesitate at first, but he’ll know he likes me. He’ll enjoy our conversations, he’ll find me attractive, and he’ll want to spend more time with me. I’ll oblige but only give him a little bit of me. He’ll press for more. I’ll budge just enough. I’ll make him feel validated, loved, and appreciated. I’ll laugh at his jokes, appreciate his sarcasm, hold his hand, kiss him passionately in public, and sing to him even though I don’t have the voice–all the things she would never have done. I’ll be the opposite of her and just what he wants. He’ll say that his life would not have been the same without me and that he is falling in love.

Rebound girl.