Dating and Relationship Advice – 10 Phrases Men Say When They’re In Love

We all know that men and women are different. However, there is a belief that men are less expressive and verbal in comparison to women. Believe us, that is a wrong belief. It all depends on what type of person you are and your level of socialization.

Most men are straightforward, as they don’t like give eye signals and hints. That’s why it can be very hard to understand what men mean what they say something. How to understand men?

In this article, I’ll try you to help learn to read between the lines to understand men. Here are ten phrases men can say when they fall in love.

 

#1. “I noticed you.”

A man can use this phrase to show that he likes you. If a man notices small things you do every day, it means he’s interested in you.

 

#2. “Can I help you?”

If a man asks for help, he wants you to need him. A man won’t ask random women to help, as it’s a sign that he like her.

 

#3. “This reminded me of you.”

This phrase is a sign that a man was thinking about you, but he’s afraid to show his love.

 

#4. “What are you doing? Where are you?”

If a man wants to know what you usually do and where you are, he probably can’t stop thinking about you . When a man is in love, he’ll try to get to know you better.

 

#5. “You look amazing!”

If a man gives you a compliment, he thinks that you’re attractive. If he compliments you often, he is trying to show that he likes you.

 

#6. “I will be there for you.”

No one will make this promise unless they have interest in you. This phrase means that a man has deep feelings for you and he wants to take care of you.

 

#7. “I miss you.”

Most men are afraid to say this phrase, as they don’t want to seem weak. But if a man voices this phrase out, he’s certainly serious about you.

 

#8. “I worry about you.”

It’s very difficult for men to accept their emotions . So if he’s trying to calm you down, when you’re upset, he definitely likes you.

 

#9. “I was talking to mom.”

Most men don’t like talking about their families. So if a man mentions his family, he’s interested in you.

 

#10. He gives you nicknames.

If a man gives you cute or funny nickname, he’s crazy about you.

 

As you see, it’s not so difficult to understand men’s words. If a man says to you some of these phrases, he definitely likes you!

 

I want everyone to know and experience true love. It’s out there for everyone and until it knocks on your door I’m here to remind you that you deserve the best love!

You can help us spread this love by sharing this with those around you and letting me know what you think in the comments below.

 

I hope this was helpful. I’d love to hear your feedback on this subject.

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day at 8am & 12pm EST.

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Suzie – The Date From Hell – Part 2

So we get back in my car, I start heading downtown since that’s where most of the bars are. We get to a stoplight, she looks over and sees a liquor store and screeches “OMG! PULL OVER AND GET ME SOME BEER!”

“Hun, we’re heading towards a bar…”

“Fuck a bar, I want to go on country roads!” (If you’re not from South Jersey, that’s a thing, and it’s cool to do if you’re just trying to get to know someone….or smoke out, but usually not something to do with a belligerent drunk that’s making no sense….speaking of which….)

“Here, take mine, it’ll work better!” She’s handing me her I.D….lol wut???

At this point, I’ve decided just to take this woman home. I quickly memorize her address, then glance at the birthdate…10/10/74….so this wasted drunkard is 43 years old. I go in and grab a 12 pack of Bud Light, the national beer of no self-respect, and put it in my back seat. She’s standing outside my car smoking a cigarette. She reaches in the car, pulls out a beer, pops the top, and turns it up. We’re in the parking lot of a trashy liquor store, in the middle of a larger South Jersey city, where cops are constantly driving by. I work her way into at least sitting inside my car so that the beer is a little hidden.

She finishes her cig and we take off. I take a different route to get back to her town, to try to throw off the scent. She asks, “Where are we going??”

“Oh, well, I was born in town we’re almost in that’s before her town, I know these country roads better, so we won’t get lost!” (Bold faced lie)

“If you think you’re taking me home, Mr Cutie, you’re sadly mistaken. I won’t get out, you can’t make me!!!”

(Mr. Cutie?)

“No, no, that’s not what I’m doing at-”

“OH MY GOD!! MY FRIEND would be SO mad if he knew I was dating a guy that owns a fitness center. I’m gonna call him!!” She proceeds to call him 8 times, back to back, leaving voice mails each time, ranging from “Hey, call me back!” to “FUCK YOU THEN!” *click

We get almost through this small town, when she says “I need another cigarette…take me somewhere to park!”

We’re almost to the 2 lane road that takes us another 6 or 7 miles to her town…you know what? Fuck it. I’m just going to be throwing out that beer anyway….so I pull into the county park parking lot, which has barns lining the far side….this park also has the high school football field, so the parking lot is actually pretty big. It’s also right by the county jail…which…was GREAT planning on the city’s part…to put the jail right smack in the middle of the county park where kids play every day.

I park by a pavilion over by the barns where many “Ms. Gloucester County” contests have taken place….it’s roughly 11:00 at this point. I convince her to just pull up some country songs on my phone via YouTube. We get out and just kinda snuggle…it’s raining off and on…it’s kind of romantic, besides that she kept ashing her cig on my back, and would take a drag off of it and not exhale before going in to make out with me…aside from that part, she’s a decent kisser though. After about 45 minutes of slow-dancing and creating a new form of second-hand smoke, she starts taking her top off. I try to stop her and say “noo….the jail is RIGHT THERE….cops do come by here regularly…we don’t need to be catching a public indecency charge on top of your eminent PI charge…”

“NO! MY TITS ARE GLORIOUS! I EVEN TRIED TO HAVE THEM REDUCED A FEW YEARS AGO, AND THE SURGEON REFUSED BECAUSE THEY LOOKED TOO GREAT!”

They WERE pretty nice….

We go back to making out a bit in the rain. She starts trying to unbutton my pants. Once again, I try to stop her by taking her hands off of my junk. She keeps going back for it, but each time squeezes harder….like, trying to get the last bit of toothpaste out of the tube-hard. I decide, screw it, I’ll face the entrance to the parking lot, it’s a big lot, we’ll have things put back together if anything comes this direction.

This was the sloppiest mouth massage I’ve ever received in my life. And by that, I don’t just mean spit, because that makes for a good blowjob. I mean she’s missing my missile with her mouth half the time.

This goes on for a few minutes, then she comes back up and tries to make out with me again, which mind you, at this point, tastes like Bud Light, smoke, my cock, and I think she threw up in her throat a little while she was down there?? It’s GROSS. So I’m quickly thinking on my feet, how do I stop this?? I KNOW! I’ll go down on her! Cause my face will be too far away from her face to continue being tortured like that! GREAT IDEA, ME!!

So I set her up on my trunk and slide her jeans and underoos down….they’re kind of wet….I give her the benefit of the doubt. It’s been raining off and on, she’s been leaning against my car, which is wet…plus who knows? I think all this as I start going to work on her lady parts.

WRONG. DEAD ASS WRONG.

SHE PISSED HERSELF.

So now I’m quickly trying to decide if I’d rather eat piss pussy, or kiss my own cock.

I go with kiss my own cock again.

As soon as I stand up, she clenches her legs around my waist and thrusts my obviously soft member towards her vagina. She strokes it a bit, thinking that will undo this night full of shame and get the blood flowing high pressure again. She gives up after a few moments and says “FUCK YOU MOTHERFUCKER!! TAKE ME HOME!!”

THANK. FUCKING. GOD.

We put our clothes back on and get in the car. Tipsy Mcstagger boards the struggle bus trying to get her boots back on. After watching her fight with them for a while, I get out, walk over to her side, and get them on and tied for her, because FINALLY the nightmare is coming to an end and I can go home.

We make it all the way into her town without one word being said. I get to the light that’s less than a mile from her house, and she says “I’M HUNGRY. YOU BETTER BUY ME FOOD… MISTER SOFTY!”

You know what? Fuck it.

The only thing open in this small town is an IHOP. So we go there. This poor, sweet waitress comes up to us and says “Hi! How are we doing tonight??”

Me: “Oh, we’re….we’re fin-”

Drunkard :”We’d be fine if THIS MOTHERFUCKER COULD HAVE STAYED HARD!!”

……

I look dead at the table….I finally gain the courage to look up at the waitress….she has the same look of horror on her face that I’ve had on mine most of the night. I give her a look that says “Please….just please get whatever she wants.”

This waitress is the MVP of the night, because I’ve never gotten food that fast in an IHOP/Waffle House establishment in my life. I just get coffee, because I’ve obviously lost my appetite hours ago. She gets an omelette, hash browns, bacon, sausage patties, waffle, biscuits and gravy, and toast….big ol’ breakfast.

Now, this next part, I can’t hold over her head really, because I know I’ve been there a few times when shmammered and getting late night food, as I’m sure most of you have as well. She barely even cuts up her food, and just kind of smashes it into her face, like a 2-year-old discovering spaghetti for the first time. There’s syrup and sausage in her hair. Also, who the fuck puts hot sauce on their sausage gravy? I tip the waitress almost as much as the bill itself was, for ruining her night.

We get to her apartment, and I walk her to her door. She begins to make out with me again….with hot saucy-gravy-syrup-egg face still. She asks “So….you want to come in and try it again?”

We’ll just have to be quiet, because my roommate is a clinically diagnosed schizophrenic that thinks about killing people all the time…you can stay here, since your place is just a few miles down the road!”

“Aw, ya know what? Aw, shucks. My work shirt is at home, and I’ll need that, so….uhh…NIGHT!”

I speed walk away, almost missing my car entirely, because I’m so mortified by the whole night, I just want to get as far away from this woman as quickly as I can. I got home at 3am.

Took a shower.

 

This truly was… The Date From Hell!

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day at 8am & 12pm EST.

Instagram: @phicklephilly    Facebook: phicklephilly