So, I was thinking today, I'm pretty sure I'm not going to have a lot to do anymore once I stopped breathing. People ask other people, "When are you going to settle down?" I suppose that means to literally sit, meet the "man of your dreams", buy a house, find some corporate schmuck job, fuck, make babies and clean your house. Well, if you want to know when I'm going to settle down, I already did. I've decided that "settling down" is not really for me though. We don't particularly get along. I want to be the old lady in the nursing home yelling Bingo when there's no game and grabbing all the old men’s behinds. That is, if I would be cursed enough to live that long.
To me, the job of "settling down" includes, your heart not beating, your breath finally leaving you and closing your eyes and never opening them again. That actually sounds much better than the sit-man-house-job-fuck-babies-clean scenario.
Why is fucking always the climax of any relationship? Why is that the summit of the mountain we try to reach to have a relationship? What happens when you meet and fuck first? Then what is there to aspire to? Is that why they're always one night stands? We felt we've conquered that mountain? There can't be anything better than fucking right? There can't be anything more intimate than fucking. I think fucking is pretty damned bland if you ask me. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy it. I'm a bit limited in discussion on the topic seeing as how I've already reached my lofty aspiration of only fucking one man my whole life. I didn't really fuck him though because I couldn't think of anything better. I did it because it meant something, well, that and you get curious after a while. While twenty-two years is by no means a record, it does raise certain questions.
I've don’t that now though. I want something much better than fucking. I don't even want it to involve sex. I've come to this conclusion after days and days of being so horny that I can't concentrate. Horniness though can be stifled many different ways. I want to find the Holy Grail of Intimacy though. It doesn't have to be with a boyfriend or a lover or a husband or any sort of standardized relationship. I've found more intimacy in conversation with a friend or the adrenaline of the light brush of a stranger than I may have ever found in fucking. Don't get me wrong. My ex wasn't bad in bed or a terrible lover, but (sorry, hon) in a way I guess he was because he couldn't find the place where I really wanted to feel it. There were a few small moments of time that the two combined, but did I really have to fuck to feel the moment? Did I want to? Hell yeah.
I guess I see sex more like a guy, but I'm girly enough to try to find the deepness of it. Kind of sad really.
Sometimes though, I've realized that when I reach a point in a relationship where fucking would normally come into play, I find myself searching for something more. Something to make this unique. That for once, my climax isn't crawling into bed. I find that I've made it some high and lofty goal to make a man want me bad enough to fuck me, but then realize that's not what I really wanted anyway. Usually, what I wanted was much simpler. It usually wants to take me backwards to the reason I ever wanted to seduce him in the first place.
God, that's sick.
The strangest tmie in my conversion from being married was probably when I had a man I wanted to seduce, completely seduced. I had him there, literally within reach of at least a fantastic make out session of some manner. I told myself at the time that I did nothing (which had never been my nature before Chris) because he had shown me some reason to respect him. I still respect this guy in a lot of aspects, but my real reason that day was that I just wasn't ready. The fact I did respect him at all also made me worry about him thinking that I would be all up in his business which can truly end a good friendship. I stayed off, kept my cool, and let the night be what it was. Good conversation.
He still didn't talk to me for the next few days and there's still this odd tension when I'm around him. I could have got some and still gotten that treatment. At least then I would have had something out of it. When I come to think of it though, I did. I had good conversation, the pleasure of his company for that night and hopefully one day things will go back to some form of normal.
It goes back to the same opint as well. You finally manage to follow through with a guy and suddenly he needs some sort of security blanket to make sure that you aren't trying to stamp him as yours. What I don't understand is where I've ever given off an impression that I needed something more than just that physical moment.
The cause and effect of whichever actions I take all seem to end the same, so it would conclude to me that the decision to fuck (or come close) or not to fuck really makes no difference at all in the end. If the person is going to act like a banana later, then that is how they will act, regardless of what the situation climaxed to.
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