Say casual. Say dating
Do not hide behind we will see.
I can do filthy. I can do late, I can do your place, I can do the kind of night that makes Monday feel louder than it needs to. What I cannot do, not anymore, is sit there translating a man like he is a group chat in another language.
If you like me, say it. If you want sex and nothing that survives daylight, say that too. I will survive the second one. I will not keep pretending the first one is happening when it is not.
They gave the guessing a cute name
There is a phrase going round now. Clear coding. Sounds like something off a warehouse scanner, which is funny, because I already spend my week reading labels that do not lie.
All it means is this. Say what you are doing. Say what you are not doing. Do it early enough that nobody has to build a whole little film in their head.
People on their phones are sick of decoding. Fair. I am sick of it too. I have done the version where you screenshot a message for a flatmate at midnight and go, is this keen or is this bored. That is not chemistry. That is unpaid admin.
Mixed signals are not mysterious. Half the time they are just someone enjoying the benefits while keeping the door on the latch. They know what they mean. You are the only one doing the crossword.
We will see is not a plan
We will see where it goes. Let’s just see. I am not looking for anything serious right now, but I like spending time with you.
That last one is the worst, because it sounds kind. It is kind the way a cancelled train is kind. You are still stuck on the platform with your makeup on.
I am not asking for a ring. I am thirty, I share a flat, I want a promotion, I still put a face on to go to Tesco. I am not confused about marriage on date two. I am asking for a sentence that stays still when I look at it.
Casual is allowed. I have had casual. I have been good at it. Casual with honesty is hot. Casual with a soft launch and a disappearing act is just someone being cheap with my time.
Dating is allowed too. Actual dating. Dinner that is booked. A Saturday that exists in the calendar, not in a voice note that starts with sorry babe it has been mad.
What is not allowed, in my kitchen at least, is the halfway house. Too involved to be nothing. Too vague to be something. You get the body. I get the homework.
I can be filthy and still want a proper sentence
This is where people get me wrong. They hear the mouth on me and decide I must want chaos. Like wanting sex means I cannot also want a plan.
Wrong.
I can want your hands and still want to know if I am allowed to text you in the afternoon without it being treated like a proposal. Those are not opposite hobbies. One is the night. One is whether the night is allowed to have a morning.
If it is just sex, I would rather you said, I want to sleep with you and I am not building a relationship. I can work with that. I might even say yes. I might say no. Either way I am not left doing maths with your last blue tick.
If it is dating, say you are dating me. Not in a speech. In behaviour. You make a plan. You show up. You do not go quiet because I was warm in public.
The wriggle is the bit I am done with. The sentence that slithers off the minute you might have to stand by it.
What mixed signals actually look like
It is not one big betrayal. It is a pile of small ones you excuse because the sex was good and he has a nice way of saying your name.
He calls you babe after midnight. He calls you nothing at noon.
He will stay. He will not walk you to the overground in daylight.
He asks what you are doing Friday. Then Friday arrives and he has a mate’s birthday he forgot to mention, which is fine, except it happens every Friday.
He tells you you are different. Different from what, love. From the other undefined women in the same rotation? That is not a compliment. That is a filing system.
And the classic. I did not think you were like that. Meaning: I did not think you would ask. Meaning: the arrangement only worked while you stayed easy to store.
I have been that girl. The fun one. The one who leaves before sunrise so nobody has to do the kettle. It feels like power until you notice you are the one putting your heels on in the hall while he sleeps like a man with no questions.
Clear coding is not a lecture
I am not handing anyone a contract on date one. I am not trauma dumping over a pint. I am not doing the girlboss monologue about my standards like I am pitching a brand.
I mean ordinary English.
I like you. I want to see you again. I am dating, not collecting almosts.
Or.
I want this to stay physical. I am not going to be a boyfriend. If that is not what you want, say now.
That second one stings. It also saves you three weeks of inventing a future he never offered. I would rather have the sting on a Tuesday than the quiet on a Sunday night when the uniform is already on the chair.
And I have to do it back. That is the bit I like less. I am good at the smirk. I am less good at, I think I want more than this and I am frightened you will go soft if I say it.
So I joke. I flirt first. I make it sound like I do not care. Then I am on the sofa checking if he viewed the story. That is not mysterious. That is me being a coward in better lipstick.
Clear coding only works if I use it on myself too.
What I am actually asking for
Not a speech. Not a soft launch wrist in a story. Not a playlist he sent at 1am as if that is the same as a plan.
A sentence that does not wriggle.
Are we sleeping together, or are we dating.
If we are sleeping together, do not do boyfriend bits when it suits you. Do not do the good morning when you want me later and the radio silence when you do not.
If we are dating, do not panic because I asked what next week looks like. That is not me chaining you to a radiator. That is a grown woman checking she is not a secret.
And if you do not know yet, fine. Then say you do not know yet, and give it a time limit in your own head. Do not use my nights as the thinking space.
I work. I share a bathroom. I want a raise. I do not have the hours for a man who needs me to be psychic and low maintenance at the same time.
The tell that matters more than the words
People can clear code with their mouth and still lie with the week.
Watch the calendar. Watch whether he can say your name in a room that is not dark. Watch whether the plan survives a normal day, not just a night when he is bored and you look good.
Words are easy. I can do words. I do words for a living if you count telling grown men where the pallet actually goes.
Behaviour is the second half of the sentence. If he says casual and then gets sulky when you go out, that is not casual. If he says dating and then takes three days to answer a simple question, that is not dating. That is a hobby with my number saved.
I used to argue with the behaviour. Make a case for him. Find the one kind Tuesday and build a house on it. I am trying not to do that anymore. It is exhausting and it never works. The house falls over the first time he goes quiet.
So here is mine, said plain
I like sex. I like being wanted. I like a night that gets a bit stupid.
I also like knowing where I stand before I start writing a version of you that does not exist.
If it is casual, say casual. I can handle the truth. I have handled worse.
If it is dating, say dating. Then act like it when the lights are up and the tube is full of people who do not care about either of us.
Do not hide behind we will see. We will see is how you keep a person warm without spending anything.
Give me a sentence that stays put. I can do filthy. I just will not keep translating you.
