We all have our afflictions
A major source of my personal torment is males. More specifically substance abusing males. Doesn't much matter the substance, so long as it renders them unavailable to me on some level. I say unavailable to me, because they seem to do fine with whatever woman they bump into post demolishing me.
This weakness goes back at least as far as the fourth grade, at which time I had a crush on the guy who's desk was in front of mine. I was less vulnerable with my feelings then. I would show my affections by grabbing his arm, if it was on my desk, and squeezing it till my fingernails almost produced blood. Fifteen years later this particular individual was taken in for mass dealing of weed, X, and who knows what else.
My male/female relations have not improved much since the violence has ceased and my breasts came in. In fact, I am tempted to return to the behaviors that earned me the nick name "Terror Claws Skelletor" because making enchiladas and knitting a beanie for the little fuckers isn't any more effective in the long run.
It doesn't seem to matter whether there is an initial attraction, or how I approach the situation; eventually my soft little underbelly is exposed, penetrated, and shredded. I am then left to scavenge for whatever remnants of self esteem are strewn about, attempting to safeguard them in case they can be fused together to form some semblance of the self worth I had going in.
And so, when he said to me "I don't smoke pot as much as I used to", perhaps I should have known it was my exit cue, and not a mating call.