Hustle Man, Don’t Sell Me the Dream

Anyway, since I’m trying to open up and such, I’m just going to put this out there. I met a man. I don’t want to jinx it, though, because it may turn out to be nothing. Or something. Who knows.

I said this about m&m when I first started getting to know him (I try not to say “talking to” cuz no one really knows what the hell it really means). While I was on a much needed vacation after graduation, I did a lot of thinking about m&m and where he and I stood and where I wanted this (or that) thing to go. After some radio silence between us, I came to this conclusion:

He’s a good guy, says all the right things and seems to mean them. But…he’s a dream seller.

Kinda like him, but not exactly

You know the type. Loud as a motor bike, but wouldn’t bust a grape in a fruit fight. The man who seems to come into your life at some random time when you aren’t really looking for anything. He seems harmless, so you go for it. He has something you think you are interested in, but don’t know if you need it right now. But he gets you, and keeps you, interested. He talks about “the dream”—how he wants to be in a relationship, how he wants to be with you, how he could see himself with you in the long run, makes jokes about how the kids would look, how he’s going to treat you when you come home from work, how you can trust him, how much he’s matured since his last boo, etc. Yeah, like I said, the dream.

Some may call this game, but there is a difference. When the dream is involved, the dude doesn’t sound or act like the draws are the main goal. He’s attentive, responsive, listens to you, seems interested in you. He talks about the future he wants and bounces back and forth between not jinxing whatever is developing and being expressive. 

In the moment, it feels good. But what happens to me when I hear these things? I get confused. My like for the man, enjoying his time and company, being appreciated, the idea of being loved—basically, all the things I think I want confuse me into thinking I want those things from him. At that moment.

And of course, m&m meant no harm by saying all these things. Many men don’t. But when a fine ass salesman tells you about a good deal on some random gadget you don’t really need, but are intrigued by, you think twice about investing in it. You want to see if you can get a sample and test the waters to see how good the product could actually be. Even though you know he probably won’t be able to deliver what he’s pushing.

Sometime between the conversation and the walk to the counter, your good sense (hopefully) kicks in and you leave the store empty-handed, but different. More informed. Less curious. Happy that you kept your money. Maybe still thinking “what if . . . .”

I’m a firm believer in trusting my instincts. I don’t always, but I kick myself when what I thought would happen actually does. When I started getting to know m&m and opened up to him a bit (nope, not like that), I got a lot of impressions about him, and he about me I’m sure. Some I liked, and some I didn’t. Those feelings I had from jump about one thing or another started to play out. But, of course, because of the dream-selling and the impressions I got about what he wanted, I started to talk myself out of the concerns I had. I questioned my own doubts and instincts and wanted to invest in the dream. But I didn’t.

After my vacation, I had that tough conversation with him. The one I knew was going happen soon after we started getting pretty close to each other. I’m fine, pretty over it now. Just another lesson learned. Thankfully, not much was lost in the process.

Have you ever been sold the dream? Was it worth it? Or am I way off base? Oh, and I’m sure there are some women out there pushing the dream, too.