Dating is brutal. Usually you end up with your head in your hands, kicking your own ass about what just happened. Lately, a new strain of madness has emerged: the Un-Boyfriend.

The Un-Boyfriend is the guy who calls you every day, who takes you out on dates, who buys you slayer birthday presents. He gets a little bent if you don't meet Gram. He is very affectionate in public. You are most likely banging the hell out of him.

Most people would call this "dating." But it's nothing. Nothing at all.

The Un-Boyfriend doesn't want a relationship. He says he doesn't want to "have to call someone every night," even though that's exactly what he's doing. He tells you how bad-ass you are, but makes sure that you know you aren't his "girlfriend." Just a "really great friend."

I don't bang my friends, so here we are.

Some would tell you to stick it out, chase him. Play the game. Get in there, get dirty. Throw out your feelings and see what he says. If he's the slightest bit wishy-washy, get your ass out of there. Unless you're into dudes with no balls (though not having a set is going to be a problem at some point.)

If you're waiting for a huge gesture, keep waiting. Those only happen in Cameron Diaz movies. Chances are you'll have to have a sit-down with your Un-Boyfriend. This dude has the best of all scenarios: He has this solid, stand-up broad, smart, cute and funny, and in his pocket. But he has no loyalty to her. What. So. Ever. If that's okay, then fire away. If it sounds the slightest bit ridiculous, you'll have to lay it out. It's either a yes or a no. Yes, you like me enough to tell people that we're at least "dating," or you don't. It's that simple. If he can't even be okay with the dating idea, then turn on your hot li'l red stilettos and beat it. Give him the ass-out, one-armed friend hug and a "take it easy, dude" right before you split. He wants a kiss? Get a girlfriend.

Beware the arguments. Like, "Hey, what are labels, anyway? Labels are opinions, labels don't matter." Dude. Not really. The whole world is about calling shit stuff, as a good friend pointed out. Like it or not, that's how people communicate, they call things by name. You want to call us dating something else? You wanna call it pie? We're having pie? Done. You want to call it Brazilian monk fighting?! Cool. We're Brazilian monk fighting. But, sweet baby Jesus, stop calling it nothing.

Don't hold yourselves back. Do you have any idea how many dudes there are? Like, on the planet? I will happily take myself back to stuffing my bra full of phone numbers and picking up dudes at Borders. Really. It's a lot easier than trying to figure out what color your sky is, bro. See, I lost my goddam decoder ring and honestly, this is exhausting. I have a whole life going on here, I'd really like for you to be a part of it. But there's only so much I can do.

He just told you that you're not his girlfriend. Listen to him. He's serious. That's what he means. Don't presume that sticking around will change anyone's mind. Don't think that you guys are gonna have a Harry- met-Sally moment. You're not. He'll probably end up banging some other chick and then calling you for advice. Now you're devastated. One caveat: He told you in black- and-white that you guys were nothing. Don't you want someone who wants you? So, if you think you have an Un-Boyfriend, feel free to copy and paste this letter.

I have a problem with your apparent problem of saying we're not dating, so I'm out of here. I'm not crazy about being friends. I'm not going to go backwards with you. I'm not going to sleep over tonight. I'm not going to half-ass it with you. I absolutely adore you and am not able to be just buddies. You're getting bumped to the bottom of the batting order. You were riding first-class with prime rib and vintage wine. Now you're in coach with a bag of peanuts.

I'm going to have to assume that you just don't like me enough to knuckle down and put it on the line. Otherwise, I'll assume that you just aren't strong enough to get it together. No worries, I'm not angry. Timing is 80 percent of life, and it's just not there. Maybe we'll connect in a few months, maybe a few years, maybe never. None of that is my problem, or yours, for that matter. It's just not good enough right now. So, if things change, you still have my number. If not, I'll see you around. I might pretend that I don't know you, but no hard feelings, right, buddy?

Sincerely,

The One Who Got Away

Jara Anton is a writer, bartender and student.