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Tuesday, May 22, 2012

Nightmare Date No. 4: Forced to "Fake It" in a Way I'd Never Considered

Posted By on Tue, May 22, 2012 at 10:30 AM

This is a date I've never talked about. Some dates are not so much bad as downright disturbing. This is one such date. It happened about seven years ago in San Luis Obispo, where I lived at the time. It happened with someone I met online. Now, online dating always scared me, but so many people I knew reported great experiences, so I tried out Yahoo Personals.

Enter Michael, as I will call him. Michael was excellent on paper: He was an accountant, he was attractive, and our phone conversations were amazing. We decided to meet during the week -- we couldn't wait for the weekend to meet in person. He arrived at my house and off to dinner we went. Things at dinner were fine. We talked of history and art, among other things. He was such a prince.

Early on, I did begin to notice he was a bit intense about things between us, but at that point I thought he was being cute and romantic. We went back to my house, and things got weird.

We entered my bedroom and start to fool around. As he was going down on me, I began to realize he was different. He told me he loved me as he was doing it. I really wanted to believe he was in the moment, or that he was an intense lover, not obsessed and batshit insane.

A little later he got on top of me, and as we started to fuck he said, "Tell me you love me."

He said it quietly at first, and I ignored it. Then he got louder and more persistent.

"Tell me you love me, Vanessa," he said. "Tell me you love me! I love you so much! We're going to be together forever!"

Any shot I had at orgasm was gone -- not only gone, but it went into hiding, and it took a few weeks to return. At this point I realized I was in a disadvantage in my position, so I did what I thought was the smart thing and told him I loved him, so all of this would end sooner than later.

Let me tell you, there is a difference between faking an orgasm and faking love. Was this guy fucking nuts? I was so creeped out, I cannot even describe it. By the grace of God he finally came, and I removed him as soon as possible.

At this point it was around 2 a.m. He was supposed to stay the night, and all I wanted was to take peroxide to my skin. I pondered how on Earth I could get him out of my house, so I could scrub away all memory of this experience. As I silently screamed, he attempted to cuddle with me, all the while prattling on and on about something.

Then he spoke directly to me: "So, I noticed you got uncomfortable when I started mentioning love during sex. Vanessa, we need to be able to talk about anything, and I want you to understand why I spoke of love so soon."

I wanted him to stop talking more than I can say. Every time he touched me under the sheet, my skin crawled.

He continued: "In order to understand why I said this, we have to look at the Greek origins of the word love."

This guy was unreal. I felt like I was in a MADtv sketch, or getting Punk'd.

"The word love in Greek has four origins," he said. "There's 'agape,' which is like saying I love you; 'eros,' which is erotic and sexual love; 'philia,' which means friendship or affection; and finally 'storge,' which means affection like that of parents to a child."

Which of these do you think he used to describe our bond? I was going with either agape or eros, but this man was nothing if not a surprise. He looked at me and while he caressed my face said, "With our backgrounds being similar, me being Jewish, you being raised Jehovah's Witness, our love is best described with the word storge, like that of brother and sister."

He said it with a smile.

He then told me what our life would be like once we got married -- how he imagined I would be as a mother, and how happy he was to finally have found me. It was like watching a mad man tell you of his plot to destroy the world. Nothing about any of these statements made me feel good; I mean, What the fuck did he just say? Did he just say that he wanted me to tell him I loved him during sex, because we love each other like brother and sister? Listen, I am by no means a prude, and I am a kinky type who gets off on role play, but this was not that sort of thing. This was a man who had gone down a road in his mind that disturbed me in ways I never thought possible.

I was literally on edge at this point. I wanted him out of my house. But it was 2 a.m., and I was a nicer person at this time in my life, with less of a backbone. So I improvised, saying "I just realized my deposition in the morning got moved to earlier, so I'll need you outta here by 4:30 a.m. so I can prepare. I really need to get some sleep. Goodnight."

Then I turned out the light.

Do you think I slept? Not a fucking chance. I was awake the whole time. If he moved or even breathed oddly, my eyes were wide open. By 4:30, I was up and rushing him out the door. He really thought I was committed to my work. I was committed, all right -- to taking a Brillo pad to myself. I walked him out, and walked back to my front door almost at a run.

I threw open my front door, ran into my bedroom, and pulled off my bedding like it was on fire. I pulled my pillowcases out, gathered all the clothes from the night before, and walked to my washing machine, briskly shoving everything inside. I added enough soap to kill an infant, and then I walked into my bathroom. I turned on the shower and just stood there -- how long, I don't know -- until I was ready to come out.

Afterward I went to computer, deleted my Yahoo profile, and never returned a phone call or text from Michael. He eventually e-mailed me, puzzled as to why on Earth I did not share the life plan he envisioned for us. I cannot describe just how truly awful this was, because it was just so frightening. This is why I am not on OKCupid, Plenty of Fish, or whatever the newest site is. While I know the chances of something similar happening again are slim, I decided it was best to stay out of the web dating pool.

Thanks for reading. I hope you learn something from my stories -- and that you find my dating life more entertaining than I do.

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Vanessa L. Pinto is a journalist based in San Francisco, best known for her blog on The Huffington Post. Her platform is multi-faceted, just like those I write about.  She holds a B.A. in Political Science, with a concentration in pre-law from Cal-Poly in San Luis Obispo and is always game for an adventure...!

Follow us on Twitter at @ExhibitionistSF and like us on Facebook.

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Vanessa L. Pinto

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