Auto, I read your previous thread about this latest girl. The main issue with that relationship, such as it was, was that she was a manipulative beeyotch. Don’t puff up and get defensive, just shut up and listen for a minute. All those text messages about how much she wanted to kiss you, how much she was hoping you’d kiss her…that is NOT how you act when you don’t want someone to get ideas. That’s how you act when you’re trying to plant ideas. She wanted you to pant after her because it fed her ego and made her boyfriend act more like she wanted him to act for a while. That is all.
I’m gonna tell you the same thing I told DoctorJ back before we started dating when he would piss and moan about how the sorrority chicks who were only nice to him when they wanted something wouldn’t go out with him after he’d given them what they wanted. Because, you know, all women only like jerks. The main problem here is that the particular women you’re picking out are crazy-ass bitches. Of course crazy-ass bitches don’t like nice guys–hellooooooo, they’re crazy.
I like nice guys (genuine, not Nice Guys) just fine, thank you ever so much. Because I’m not a big steaming wad of nutso, and I don’t appreciate being lumped in with people who are simply because we’ve got similar plumbing. You need to avoid the crazies and go after the sane women. One of them will appreciate your many sterling qualities, because you really are a great guy. But this attitude is incredibly unattractive, and it’s gotta go or else nobody will ever want to go out with you ever again because you seem like such a fucking chore.
It seems to have been reasonably effective advice for him. Do with it what you will.
As for those of you who can’t understand what’s so undesirable about someone who is happiest when making you happy, think about your grandma. (Or your great-aunt Martha, or whatever dear, kindly relative you have who thinks the sun shines out your butt and has dreadful, dreadful taste. Pretty much everybody has one of these.) She’s so sweet, and so kind, and she loves you so much that you can’t tell her the Christmas sweater she knitted for you with her own hands is utterly, utterly hideous and two sizes too big to boot. It would crush her and you would feel like a complete asshole for hurting her feelings.
Now imagine living with her, and Christmas comes a few times a week. A constant stream of ugly sweaters you hate, and you can’t say anything negative about them because it would make her so unhappy that you’re unhappy.
Doesn’t really sound like my idea of a fun life, personally.