After I was divorced and started dating I got a REAL education about what it meant to a Plan B. Here are some “You Might Be A Man’s Plan Be If…” clues —
He only stops to see you/take you out for food as he’s passing through town on his way to someplace else.
He calls you as he drives by your exit because that is when he remembers you exist.
He uses your place as a bed & breakfast.
You live by the airport and you only hear from him when he’s coming into town to catch a plane coming or going from someplace else.
He only stops in to see you on the way to his mother’s house.
The man calls you after he leaves a function he didn’t invite you to join him at, but asks if you want to swing by his hotel for a night cap.
You never actually go on a ‘date’.
You have to pay your own way into anything.
You have to meet him there.
The word ‘casual’ comes up in the conversation as it relates to dating, relationship, or sex.
The truth of all of this is simple. I allowed it to happen. These situations were not the fault of the men involved. I thought that was what I wanted. And for a long time I did enjoy the freedom that a lack of commitment entailed.
Right up until I didn’t. And then I just stopped. With all of that shit. And I started saying “No,Thank You” to the men who assumed I was Plan B material. It was painfully easy and a relief in most cases. I doubt any of them even really noticed. Because in fact, I might have been Plan D or E and likely they had a whole alphabet waiting in the wings behind me. Who knows?
I took a break. A good long break. When someone who really wanted me to be his Plan A came along — I made him wait it out a bit. Just to be sure. Because my Plan B days were over. Lucky for me — he was a patient sort of Plan A fellow.
And the rest, as they say, is history.