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I generally don’t agree with the advice you give, but I need help and I can’t talk to my friends.
About two months ago, I broke off a relationship with a guy I had been seeing for about seven years. I am only 24 years old, and I needed to explore other fish in the sea! I immediately hooked up with this Russian guy whom I had been crushing on for some time. It turned out he spoke little English, but he treated me amazing. We slept together, and he stared deeply into my eyes, and I was totally head over heels. He seemed just perfect in so many ways, except he lied to me about two things: his age and his use of hard drugs. A little exaggeration about age is fine, I guess, but I was distressed by how much time he spent messed up on cocaine, K, and E.
I went to a friend’s Christmas party and brought him. I tried to kiss him, but he told me he was too high. I felt rejected. Later, we were supposed to meet up in the evening after not seeing each other for a week. When I phoned, he told me that he was too stoned to leave his house. I felt awful again. I dumped him over the phone. I was PMSing, which is probably gross for you to know, but it affects my decision-making processes, so I thought you should be aware. The next day, he came over with a friend who could translate for him. He was clearly high. I told him if he didn’t use drugs so much we could go out again. Two days later, I went to his house to talk to him and he tried to give me a Christmas present, but I couldn’t accept it because he said he didn’t want to talk about us. I sat there dazed and finally left without saying goodbye.
The dilemma is that I can’t stop thinking about him. I have texted him many times, but he hasn’t responded. I want to talk to him because I want to know if he didn’t want to be in a relationship with me at all and was waiting for me to leave him, or if he still likes me and for some reason he’s not responding.
What should I do? I need closure. Do you know what’s going on in his head? Am I crazy for trying to resolve things?—Hurt Heart
For future reference, HH, the next time you want an advice columnist’s full attention—when you want him to, say, stop beating off about a three-way with Saturday Night Live’s Andy Samberg and Daniel V. from Project Runway and focus instead like a laser beam on your problems—you might not want to open your letter with an insult such as, “I generally don’t agree with the advice you give, but I need help.” If you were being assaulted, would you call 911 and scream, “Fuck the pigs!”?
On to my shittyass advice: I don’t know what’s going on in his head—and, judging from his drug use, he may not know either. But clearly he enjoys drugs a whole hell of a lot more than he enjoys you. (And considering your people skills, who could blame him?) As to whether or not he ever wanted to be in a relationship with you at all or was waiting for you to leave him or still likes you, blah blah blah, only he knows the answers to those questions, and it looks like he’s not telling. Does that deny you closure? No, HH, it doesn’t. He’s giving it to you—hell, he’s fucking slamming you closed.
Then why, if he doesn’t really care about you, was the sex great? Why did he stare so deeply into your eyes? Because, HH, sometimes we click physically and chemically with someone who’s just not right for us—or not all there—and the result can be mind-blowing sex and nothing more. Despite what Pope Benedict would have us believe, sex without love can be fucking amazing. Unfortunately, many sexually inexperienced people erroneously believe that mind-blowing, intensely connected sex must be evidence of a deeper, more profound connection. Sometimes it is, HH; sometimes it isn’t. (And sometimes people stare deeply into our eyes because they’re having a hard time focusing.)
I’ll conclude my shitty advice with this observation, HH: You broke up with your last boyfriend after seven years because you wanted to filet some of the other fishes in the sea. So why are you trying to settle down with the very first fish you fucked?—Dan
Is there established etiquette for showing appreciation to a person for being a good masturbatory fantasy?
A polite person never says anything to the subjects of their masturbatory fantasies about the roles they play in her inner erotic life. Why? Well, take Andy Samberg for example. If I ever met him, I would opt to discuss comedy or fashion or politics with him, omitting any references to the dozen or more times I’ve pictured him sitting on Daniel V.’s face. That information might make Andy uncomfortable, and then what hope would I have of ever getting into his pants?
Is there anything you can do? Yes, DG, there is: The tactful way to show your appreciation to someone you’ve masturbated about is by making an anonymous donation to a worthy charity in his or her name. (I made a large donation to the American Society for the Preservation of Boyish, Shaggy-Haired Men in the names of Andy Samberg and Daniel V.)
There probably aren’t many people who are loyal readers of both Savage Love and the Economist, but I am one. In the Jan. 5 issue of the Economist there is a subtle reference to santorum—yes, santorum in the Savage Love sense.
“The fall of Rick Santorum, Pennsylvania’s junior senator, is even more eagerly anticipated by the American left. Mr. Santorum is one of America’s most-articulate opponents of all things permissive. His six children are homeschooled; he opposes stem-cell research; he feels that sodomy should be outlawed; he favors national service. James Dobson, the head of Focus on the Family, an evangelical group, praises his ‘integrity, vision, and unwavering commitment to the principles and beliefs upon which the United States was founded.’ Meanwhile, gay activists use his name to denote something indescribable in a family newspaper.”
Thanks to everyone who wrote in about the reference to santorum in the Economist. With any luck, Sen. Santorum, that conservative fucktard, will soon be out of office and remembered only for his singular contribution to the sexual lexicon. One quibble with the Economist, however: It’s not just gay activists who are using Santorum’s name to denote something indescribable in a family newspaper. (This ain’t no family newspaper: Santorum is that frothy mix of lube and fecal matter that is sometimes the byproduct of anal sex.) Plenty of straights have anal sex and, therefore, occasion to use the term.
Oh, and speaking of conservative fucktards: My condolences to all the sane people in Canada—the majority in Canada—who voted against your new prime minister, conservative fucktard Stephen Harper. Just as we will somehow survive George W. Bush’s reign of error down here, we trust that you will survive Harper’s—hopefully with your gay marriages, sensible drug reforms, and Kyoto treaty obligations intact.
Dan Savage’s new book, The Commitment: Love, Sex, Marriage, and My Family, is on sale now. Send your Savage Love questions to email@example.com.