7 Signs He Doesn’t Really Love You, Based On The Sex Alone

The truth hurts, but it’s better to know.

The question you probably want to answer the most in the beginning stages of a new relationship is: how much does he really care about me?

While there are several ways to figure out if he loves you or not, we’re going to fill you in on signs you need to pay attention to in the bedroom that can help you figure out where you stand.

Are you “the one” — or are you just someone?

Here are 7 signs he doesn’t really love you, based on the sex alone.

1. He’s a selfish lover.

He doesn’t give you as much time or pleasure as he gives himself. Sex is about him being satisfied; so he doesn’t focus on your needs as much as you want him to.

If he doesn’t make the effort to give you equal pleasure, it means he doesn’t care enough to bother.

2. He doesn’t engage in post-sex affection.

If a guy really loves you he’ll want to keep you close. If he seems emotionally distant or doesn’t ever really cuddle with you after sex, he’s not as into you as you think.

Remember, the sexual experience includes pre-sex and post-sex, not just when you’re doing the do.

3. He objectifies you in bed when you don’t want him to.

There are some people out there who like to be dominated and objectified in bed. This is usually because it’s totally opposite to how they operate in real life. (Hey, we all have our fetishes!)

But if you get the sense that he’s treating you like a generic person and not a unique, special woman, that’s a sign he doesn’t really love you. Even when you engage in BDSM and identify as Dominant and submissive sex, you should feel some sort of mutual agreement as to when this type of treatment is and is not acceptable to you.

4. He doesn’t whisper sweet nothings.

A guy who truly loves you will talk to you during sex. He’ll tell you how much he loves you and shows his emotional side just as much as his physical side.

If your guy doesn’t do any of that and exclusively does dirty talk, keep an eye out.

5. He keeps trying to push your boundaries (in a disrespectful way).

A man who loves you will accept the phrases, “Not yet” or “Not right now.”

If your guy keeps pushing you outside of your comfort zone and doesn’t let up about it, it demonstrates his lack of care and respect for you. He just wants what he wants, end of story.

6. You don’t feel emotionally satisfied by him.

A lot of people mistake physical satisfaction with emotional satisfaction. It’s a natural mistake to make, but sooner or later you have to pick up on the difference between the two.

The sex may be amazing, but if you realize that your relationship consists more of physical attraction than emotional care and understanding, it’s not worth your time.

7. There’s no progress.

Couples in love naturally progress and evolve with each other over time, both sexually and emotionally. If you’ve been with the same person for a little while now and you feel like the sex has reached its height and you’ve become emotionally stagnant, it’s a sign that your relationship isn’t as great as you thought it was.

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day.

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If He Does These 7 Things, He Likes You Way More Than You Think

He’s ready to take it to the next step!

Buying you flowers, paying for your dinner, making uninterrupted eye contact with you during said dinner — these are all classic signs a guy likes you.

These signs he’s into you are so “run of the mill” that they’re impossible to mistake.

But relationships aren’t always that black and white and figuring out how to tell if a guy likes you isn’t always so simple. If you’re asking yourself, “is he into me?” you aren’t alone.

Aside from the obvious signs of affection, there are a few unexpected signs someone likes you more than you think.

Since every relationship is as different as the people in them, it’s impossible to generalize the exact signs he likes you.

The way your new potential partner acts around you may be completely different than the behavior of an ex at the beginning of your relationship, which can cause you to question whether or not they really like you at all.

But believe it or not, the nuanced, subtle signs that you might not expect are oftentimes even more powerful indicators of someone’s true feelings than the grand gestures or stereotypical come-ons.

Instead of calling it quits because your new partner isn’t giving you the cues you expected, take a step back and evaluate their behavior through some of these more unexpected but important signs a guy likes you more than a friend.

1. He follows through.

In the beginning stages of a relationship, many people are focused on building trust and will go to great lengths to follow through on promises.

Although many people expect lavish promises at the beginning of a new relationship, The Huffington Post noted that the opposite might be true.

The site noted that if the person you’re seeing takes extra measures to make sure that they call when they say they’ll call, or follow through in other ways, you can assume that your relationship means something to them.

2. He takes it slow.

Although passion and speed might be common at the start of a new relationship, one piece from Thought Catalog pointed out that slowness isn’t a bad thing when it comes to relationships.

In fact, if someone wants to take it slow, it’s probably because the fear of messing things up with you is greater than their desire to get too intimate too soon.

3. You cultivate a friendship first.

Similar to taking it slow, if you have a genuine friendship established before jumping into anything romantic, you can rest assured that they like you in a deep way that goes beyond a crush.

4. He acts awkward toward you.

If your significant other seems to be calm, cool, and confident in front of everyone else but you, Elite Daily noted that they might just like you more than you think.

It’s common for people to be unsure of how to act in a new relationship, even when they typically seem to have it all together.

5. He acts ‘formulaic’ around you.

In one of his YouTube coaching videos, relationship coach Clayton Olson said that “formulaic” behavior is a bizarre behavior that a potential partner will sometimes exhibit at the beginning of a relationship.

This, he explained, means that they will follow an already established formula when it comes to your interactions, avoiding spontaneity or situations where they don’t feel comfortable.

Although it may make you feel like they’re being too reserved or boring, it’s simply a way to mask their initial feelings of being outside their comfort zone.

6. He mirrors your movements.

Mimicry has to do with a lot more than sympathy (i.e. the way we reel back sympathetically when someone gets hurt) it has something to do with affection too.

One study from the American Psychological Association noted that subtle mirroring is a sign of attraction in humans.

7. He doesn’t mind the inconveniences to be near you.

Are they willing to drive extra long hours to be with you for a short amount of time?

If things that would normally seem like an inconvenience aren’t a big deal to them, chances are, they’re head over heels.

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day.

You can check out my books here: https://www.amazon.com/s?k=charles+wiedenmann&ref=nb_sb_noss_1

The Gift of The Magi – By O. Henry – Part 2

At 7 o’clock the coffee was made and the frying-pan was on the back of the stove hot and ready to cook the chops.

Jim was never late. Della doubled the fob chain in her hand and sat on the corner of the table near the door that he always entered. Then she heard his step on the stair away down on the first flight, and she turned white for just a moment. She had a habit of saying little silent prayer about the simplest everyday things, and now she whispered: “Please God, make him think I am still pretty.”

The door opened and Jim stepped in and closed it. He looked thin and very serious. Poor fellow, he was only twenty-two–and to be burdened with a family! He needed a new overcoat and he was without gloves.

Jim stopped inside the door, as immovable as a setter at the scent of quail. His eyes were fixed upon Della, and there was an expression in them that she could not read, and it terrified her. It was not anger, nor surprise, nor disapproval, nor horror, nor any of the sentiments that she had been prepared for. He simply stared at her fixedly with that peculiar expression on his face.

Della wriggled off the table and went for him.

“Jim, darling,” she cried, “don’t look at me that way. I had my hair cut off and sold because I couldn’t have lived through Christmas without giving you a present. It’ll grow out again–you won’t mind, will you? I just had to do it. My hair grows awfully fast. Say `Merry Christmas!’ Jim, and let’s be happy. You don’t know what a nice– what a beautiful, nice gift I’ve got for you.”

“You’ve cut off your hair?” asked Jim, laboriously, as if he had not arrived at that patent fact yet even after the hardest mental labor.

“Cut it off and sold it,” said Della. “Don’t you like me just as well, anyhow? I’m me without my hair, ain’t I?”

Jim looked about the room curiously.

“You say your hair is gone?” he said, with an air almost of idiocy.

“You needn’t look for it,” said Della. “It’s sold, I tell you–sold and gone, too. It’s Christmas Eve, boy. Be good to me, for it went for you. Maybe the hairs of my head were numbered,” she went on with sudden serious sweetness, “but nobody could ever count my love for you. Shall I put the chops on, Jim?”

Out of his trance, Jim seemed quickly to wake. He enfolded his Della. For ten seconds let us regard with discreet scrutiny some inconsequential object in the other direction. Eight dollars a week or a million a year–what is the difference? A mathematician or a wit would give you the wrong answer. The magi brought valuable gifts, but that was not among them. This dark assertion will be illuminated later on.

Jim drew a package from his overcoat pocket and threw it upon the table.

“Don’t make any mistake, Dell,” he said, “about me. I don’t think there’s anything in the way of a haircut or a shave or a shampoo that could make me like my girl any less. But if you’ll unwrap that package you may see why you had me going a while at first.”

White fingers and nimble tore at the string and paper. And then an ecstatic scream of joy; and then, alas! a quick feminine change to hysterical tears and wails, necessitating the immediate employment of all the comforting powers of the lord of the flat.

For there lay The Combs–the set of combs, side, and back, that Della had worshipped long in a Broadway window. Beautiful combs, pure tortoiseshell, with jeweled rims–just the shade to wear in the beautiful vanished hair. They were expensive combs, she knew, and her heart had simply craved and yearned over them without the least hope of possession. And now, they were hers, but the tresses that should have adorned the coveted adornments were gone.

But she hugged them to her bosom, and at length, she was able to look up with dim eyes and a smile and say: “My hair grows so fast, Jim!”

And then Della leaped up like a little singed cat and cried, “Oh, oh!”

Jim had not yet seen his beautiful present. She held it out to him eagerly upon her open palm. The dull precious metal seemed to flash with a reflection of her bright and ardent spirit.

“Isn’t it a dandy, Jim? I hunted all over town to find it. You’ll have to look at the time a hundred times a day now. Give me your watch. I want to see how it looks on it.”

Instead of obeying, Jim tumbled down on the couch and put his hands under the back of his head, and smiled.

“Dell,” said he, “let’s put our Christmas presents away and keep ’em a while. They’re too nice to use just at present. I sold the watch to get the money to buy your combs. And now suppose you put the chops on.”

The magi, as you know, were wise men–wonderfully wise men–who brought gifts to the Babe in the manger. They invented the art of giving Christmas presents. Being wise, their gifts were no doubt wise ones, possibly bearing the privilege of exchange in case of duplication. And here I have lamely related to you the uneventful chronicle of two foolish children in a flat who most unwisely sacrificed for each other the greatest treasures of their house. But in a last word to the wise of these days let it be said that of all who give gifts these two were the wisest. O all who give and receive gifts, such as they are wisest. Everywhere they are wisest. They are the magi.

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day.

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The Gift of the Magi – By O. Henry – Part 1

One dollar and eighty-seven cents. That was all. And sixty cents of it was in pennies. Pennies saved one and two at a time by bulldozing the grocer and the vegetable man and the butcher until one’s cheeks burned with the silent imputation of parsimony that such close dealing implied. Three times Della counted it. One dollar and eighty-seven cents. And the next day would be Christmas.

There was clearly nothing to do but flop down on the shabby little couch and howl. So Della did it. Which instigates the moral reflection that life is made up of sobs, sniffles, and smiles, with sniffles predominating.

While the mistress of the home is gradually subsiding from the first stage to the second, take a look at the home. A furnished flat at $8 per week. It did not exactly beggar description, but it certainly had that word on the lookout for the mendicancy squad.

In the vestibule below was a letter-box into which no letter would go, and an electric button from which no mortal finger could coax a ring. Also appertaining thereunto was a card bearing the name “Mr. James Dillingham Young.”

The “Dillingham” had been flung to the breeze during a former period of prosperity when its possessor was being paid $30 per week. Now, when the income was shrunk to $20, though, they were thinking seriously of contracting to a modest and unassuming D. But whenever Mr. James Dillingham Young came home and reached his flat above he was called “Jim” and greatly hugged by Mrs. James Dillingham Young, already introduced to you as Della. Which is all very good.

Della finished her cry and attended to her cheeks with the powder rag. She stood by the window and looked out dully at a gray cat walking a gray fence in a gray backyard. Tomorrow would be Christmas Day, and she had only $1.87 with which to buy Jim a present. She had been saving every penny she could for months, with this result. Twenty dollars a week doesn’t go far. Expenses had been greater than she had calculated. They always are. Only $1.87 to buy a present for Jim. Her Jim. Many a happy hour she had spent planning for something nice for him. Something fine and rare and sterling–something just a little bit near to being worthy of the honor of being owned by Jim.

There was a pier-glass between the windows of the room. Perhaps you have seen a pier-glass in an $8 flat. A very thin and very agile person may, by observing his reflection in a rapid sequence of longitudinal strips, obtain a fairly accurate conception of his looks. Della, being slender, had mastered the art.

Suddenly she whirled from the window and stood before the glass. her eyes were shining brilliantly, but her face had lost its color within twenty seconds. Rapidly she pulled down her hair and let it fall to its full length.

Now, there were two possessions of the James Dillingham Youngs in which they both took a mighty pride. One was Jim’s gold watch that had been his father’s and his grandfather’s. The other was Della’s hair. Had the queen of Sheba lived in the flat across the airshaft, Della would have let her hair hang out the window some day to dry just to depreciate Her Majesty’s jewels and gifts. Had King Solomon been the janitor, with all his treasures piled up in the basement, Jim would have pulled out his watch every time he passed, just to see him pluck at his beard from envy.

So now Della’s beautiful hair fell about her rippling and shining like a cascade of brown waters. It reached below her knee and made itself almost a garment for her. And then she did it up again nervously and quickly. Once she faltered for a minute and stood still while a tear or two splashed on the worn red carpet.

On went her old brown jacket; on went her old brown hat. With a whirl of skirts and with the brilliant sparkle still in her eyes, she fluttered out the door and down the stairs to the street.

Where she stopped the sign read: “Mne. Sofronie. Hair Goods of All Kinds.” One flight up Della ran, and collected herself, panting. Madame, large, too white, chilly, hardly looked the “Sofronie.”

“Will you buy my hair?” asked Della.

“I buy hair,” said Madame. “Take yer hat off and let’s have a sight at the looks of it.”

Down rippled the brown cascade.

“Twenty dollars,” said Madame, lifting the mass with a practiced hand.

“Give it to me quick,” said Della.

Oh, and the next two hours tripped by on rosy wings. Forget the hashed metaphor. She was ransacking the stores for Jim’s present.

She found it at last. It surely had been made for Jim and no one else. There was no other like it in any of the stores, and she had turned all of them inside out. It was a platinum fob chain simple and chaste in design, properly proclaiming its value by substance alone and not by meretricious ornamentation–as all good things should do. It was even worthy of The Watch. As soon as she saw it she knew that it must be Jim’s. It was like him. Quietness and value–the description applied to both. Twenty-one dollars they took from her for it, and she hurried home with the 87 cents. With that chain on his watch, Jim might be properly anxious about the time in any company. Grand as the watch was, he sometimes looked at it on the sly on account of the old leather strap that he used in place of a chain.

When Della reached home her intoxication gave way a little to prudence and reason. She got out her curling irons and lighted the gas and went to work repairing the ravages made by generosity added to love. Which is always a tremendous task, dear friends–a mammoth task.

Within forty minutes her head was covered with tiny, close-lying curls that made her look wonderfully like a truant schoolboy. She looked at her reflection in the mirror long, carefully, and critically.

“If Jim doesn’t kill me,” she said to herself, “before he takes a second look at me, he’ll say I look like a Coney Island chorus girl. But what could I do–oh! what could I do with a dollar and eighty-seven cents?”

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day.

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Tales of Rock – John Lennon turns 80: What the musician thought about a possible Beatles reunion

John Lennon turns 80: What the musician thought about a possible Beatles reunion | The Independent
— Read on www.google.com/amp/s/www.independent.co.uk/arts-entertainment/music/news/john-lennon-death-80-birthday-beatles-reunion-paul-mccartney-mark-chapman-b910215.html?amp

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day.

You can check out my books here: https://www.amazon.com/s?k=charles+wiedenmann&ref=nb_sb_noss_1

Listen to Phicklephilly LIVE on Spotify!