A messaged me. Pissing me off. I told him to stop calling me "babe", it is weird. I told him that I maintain friendship with my ex'es but when they started calling me "babe" it's implying that I'm in a relationship with them, which I'm not, and it's the wrong message to send to me. I'd stop responding to him if he did that again. He said that I made a good point. He went on to ask how I was doing. I know that he missed me. I did not care so much about him. The last few times he was up here I ignored him. He was heading to France and he messaged me then. I didn't care but I liked the attention.
I sorted of blamed him for everything. He started it all with me. He was the last person I slept with before I went and got myself married. He was someone I met at a party, a pub crawl, he was blue blood and had an air of arrogance. I ignored him while other women threw themselves at him. He had money, prestige and the good looks. I hated men who thought they had everything. I also hated the fact that he was flaunting it. But for some strange reason A liked me. Soon our relationship took a different turn when I sensed that he was into the game of chase rather than the game of wanting someone to be his companion. I liked him enough to let it go on for a while, but I didn't like him enough to feel that he was worth my affection.
It was a bit of blow to his ego, someone who grew up with a silver spoon, who went to the most prestigious prep school, then onto Stanford, and when that was done, then went to get his MIT sloan degree before starting his own company and made millions. He should have gotten away with a lot more than he ever did, but I didn't care for him, he was awkward and geeky, he was charming but in a very limited way. By the time he asked me to move in I had already moved in with someone else. The story ended there until years later when he found me again.
Story did not end well there, as we both were in a weird state of reliving our 20s and 30s. But we've been trying to repair our friendship since then. I had trouble saying no. For every man who came into my life, I tend to have trouble saying no. My decision of moving on usually snuck on me, one moment I was in love the next moment I felt that he had betrayed me and I was moving on. Rarely I took a long interest in a man without finding some fatal flaw, but at the same time I did not foster hostility. I simply, moved on. I moved on from A. The first time, and then the second time.
A wanted a friendship with sexual component to it. He did not want a relationship. I told him that I'm in a relationship. With B. The man after him, this time, and the same man, who was before him back 16 years ago. I can't have a friendship that contained a sexual component. A wanted me and he tried to convince me that I wanted him too.
The truth is - I like sex. I like men. I had no problem having sex with different men. When I was younger I did that, when I was older I did that too, until recently it worked well. Sex without emotional attachment, in and of itself, was no hard, what was hard was when the man you were supposed to have a casual relationship with, asked you for your heart. It seemed easy at first. When I met B, I told him about A, and about how I just wanted to have sex, and then A wanted more and got obsessive. B took notes. He knew that I was available sexually. I had fun. It was when B told me "I love you" that it got me freaked out. For a year I tried to talk myself out of it, I tried to break it off with him, I tried to figure out if I loved him, until, one day I realized that I did love him back. All sort of inner crisis took place. It would have been so easy, if everyone just stuck to their bargain and treated it as a fun adventure. But someone, someone always had to get emotions involved. Then it was too late. Once B asked me to give him my heart, more than my body, to him. I didn't understand. How and why? Then recently I felt that it was because he felt that way about me.
I knew that B loved me. I also knew, that he wished no change in our status. There was no advancement, there was no progression, and there was really no real shared vision of a future. That saddened me but did not surprise me, and further more, it made me realize that perhaps if we did end our journey together, now, or soon, I would be at peace. I had given everything that I could to B. I would have changed my world for him. I had done everything that I could, and he wanted none of that. If I had given him everything, my heart, my love, my physical being, and there was no real desire to seek that, then what was there left for me to do?
I was finally relieved of that notion of a progress. And in some strange ways I no longer felt that I owed anything to B. And more importantly I owed nothing to myself. I've explored everything I needed to explore in terms of relationships that I'd form with B, and I think I've reached the end with B. It would remain fun, but it would not me wonder if we would have a future together. It was not in the deck of cards. B made it clear.
But, I knew A more than A knew himself. I knew A wanted me because he is with someone for sometime now, she nagged him and wanted to know where he was at and who he was all the time. She made the same mistake majority of women make when entering a relationship, she became possessive and jealous.
Both characteristics maybe charming for a while, because she cared, men would rationalize, but in the end it was detrimental to a romantic relationship. Because it became taxing, and being jealous is never an attractive thing.
A complained to me how it killed the romance.
A wanted to see me, create fun memories. A wanted me - that was flattering. But at the same time, boring. I found the entire process boring and tedious. A stuck in the past, he was rejected, not once but twice, once in 99 and once in 11, both times I had others in mind and I didn't care for him. If A was smart, he would have left it alone, but he was not, and he wanted to continue the pursuit.
This is what happens with men. They often get stuck in the past. They see not with their aging eyes and body but the eyes and body of a young man. They want to fulfill their youthful fantasies yet they are now burdened with family, career, children. They want what they could not have the first time around, they try to fix the mistakes they made the first time with their ex. They do not learn.
I need men. I need the exchange of bodily fluid, I need the intimacy, the process of wooing, the process of falling. I like when they provide me with some level of intrigue, or blind adoration. I wither when they cease to exist in my life. I work hard in maintaining some level of control in these encounters. I withdraw when I feel that there is less than abnormal amount of affection. I didn't want to feel lukewarm about anyone, anything.
Yet, in sort of odd but self fulfilling process, I have no men to speak of, but B, the distant, occasional B.
I sorted of blamed him for everything. He started it all with me. He was the last person I slept with before I went and got myself married. He was someone I met at a party, a pub crawl, he was blue blood and had an air of arrogance. I ignored him while other women threw themselves at him. He had money, prestige and the good looks. I hated men who thought they had everything. I also hated the fact that he was flaunting it. But for some strange reason A liked me. Soon our relationship took a different turn when I sensed that he was into the game of chase rather than the game of wanting someone to be his companion. I liked him enough to let it go on for a while, but I didn't like him enough to feel that he was worth my affection.
It was a bit of blow to his ego, someone who grew up with a silver spoon, who went to the most prestigious prep school, then onto Stanford, and when that was done, then went to get his MIT sloan degree before starting his own company and made millions. He should have gotten away with a lot more than he ever did, but I didn't care for him, he was awkward and geeky, he was charming but in a very limited way. By the time he asked me to move in I had already moved in with someone else. The story ended there until years later when he found me again.
Story did not end well there, as we both were in a weird state of reliving our 20s and 30s. But we've been trying to repair our friendship since then. I had trouble saying no. For every man who came into my life, I tend to have trouble saying no. My decision of moving on usually snuck on me, one moment I was in love the next moment I felt that he had betrayed me and I was moving on. Rarely I took a long interest in a man without finding some fatal flaw, but at the same time I did not foster hostility. I simply, moved on. I moved on from A. The first time, and then the second time.
A wanted a friendship with sexual component to it. He did not want a relationship. I told him that I'm in a relationship. With B. The man after him, this time, and the same man, who was before him back 16 years ago. I can't have a friendship that contained a sexual component. A wanted me and he tried to convince me that I wanted him too.
The truth is - I like sex. I like men. I had no problem having sex with different men. When I was younger I did that, when I was older I did that too, until recently it worked well. Sex without emotional attachment, in and of itself, was no hard, what was hard was when the man you were supposed to have a casual relationship with, asked you for your heart. It seemed easy at first. When I met B, I told him about A, and about how I just wanted to have sex, and then A wanted more and got obsessive. B took notes. He knew that I was available sexually. I had fun. It was when B told me "I love you" that it got me freaked out. For a year I tried to talk myself out of it, I tried to break it off with him, I tried to figure out if I loved him, until, one day I realized that I did love him back. All sort of inner crisis took place. It would have been so easy, if everyone just stuck to their bargain and treated it as a fun adventure. But someone, someone always had to get emotions involved. Then it was too late. Once B asked me to give him my heart, more than my body, to him. I didn't understand. How and why? Then recently I felt that it was because he felt that way about me.
I knew that B loved me. I also knew, that he wished no change in our status. There was no advancement, there was no progression, and there was really no real shared vision of a future. That saddened me but did not surprise me, and further more, it made me realize that perhaps if we did end our journey together, now, or soon, I would be at peace. I had given everything that I could to B. I would have changed my world for him. I had done everything that I could, and he wanted none of that. If I had given him everything, my heart, my love, my physical being, and there was no real desire to seek that, then what was there left for me to do?
I was finally relieved of that notion of a progress. And in some strange ways I no longer felt that I owed anything to B. And more importantly I owed nothing to myself. I've explored everything I needed to explore in terms of relationships that I'd form with B, and I think I've reached the end with B. It would remain fun, but it would not me wonder if we would have a future together. It was not in the deck of cards. B made it clear.
But, I knew A more than A knew himself. I knew A wanted me because he is with someone for sometime now, she nagged him and wanted to know where he was at and who he was all the time. She made the same mistake majority of women make when entering a relationship, she became possessive and jealous.
Both characteristics maybe charming for a while, because she cared, men would rationalize, but in the end it was detrimental to a romantic relationship. Because it became taxing, and being jealous is never an attractive thing.
A complained to me how it killed the romance.
A wanted to see me, create fun memories. A wanted me - that was flattering. But at the same time, boring. I found the entire process boring and tedious. A stuck in the past, he was rejected, not once but twice, once in 99 and once in 11, both times I had others in mind and I didn't care for him. If A was smart, he would have left it alone, but he was not, and he wanted to continue the pursuit.
This is what happens with men. They often get stuck in the past. They see not with their aging eyes and body but the eyes and body of a young man. They want to fulfill their youthful fantasies yet they are now burdened with family, career, children. They want what they could not have the first time around, they try to fix the mistakes they made the first time with their ex. They do not learn.
I need men. I need the exchange of bodily fluid, I need the intimacy, the process of wooing, the process of falling. I like when they provide me with some level of intrigue, or blind adoration. I wither when they cease to exist in my life. I work hard in maintaining some level of control in these encounters. I withdraw when I feel that there is less than abnormal amount of affection. I didn't want to feel lukewarm about anyone, anything.
Yet, in sort of odd but self fulfilling process, I have no men to speak of, but B, the distant, occasional B.
No comments:
Post a Comment