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Thursday, July 23, 2009


i have been going through a phase in which i like men who act like boys, i realized. not literal boys (except in the last boy's case, which was weird as he was 10 years younger, and it not only didn't last long but ended in my utter and deserved humiliation- oh but he had heartbreaking potential!).... choke, i digress... there is something that is so familiar to me about boys. i guess i just think of the people who made me happy while i was growing up. the boys i played nintendo with, the boys i would slip notes to in one of my junior high schools, where i was the only white girl in most of my classes and they would all line up in their baggy pants and wifebeaters to protect me valiantly from each other at lunchtime... or in one of my high schools, where the notes were mostly returned by clean cut athletes or mysterious drama students with the "no" box checked, to my sad shyness, but in which they all came back around later and took me to the movies (dates on which i wouldn't say a single word, driving them mad on the drive home). the boys i would talk on the phone to for hours (with rehearsed script in hand), do drugs and wander through the suburbs with in my solo 3 month drug phase, boys i would go on road trips with, pee on the side of the road with. lay around listening to music and looking at the glow stars on my ceiling with. boys i watch marathons of movies with, and make homemade porn videos with. boy i would go furniture shopping with. take baths with. boys who would run around with me on the playground and climb the jungle gym. boys i met on the floor of the bathroom at college parties. boys i peeled off of me jabbering and drooling in various backpacker ghettoes around the world. boys i stalked in clubs. boys i fought on the playground in my little brother's honor. boys i danced with, sang to, slapped and tickled. slept intertwined with. boys i philosophized with, lived with, grew up with.

i want a boy i can enjoy my life with. men are too serious. but... the men in my life could have all decorated wanted posters or covers of books about, say, bigoted immigrants who shirk all responsibility except for themselves, stars of after school specials on sex abuse and drug addiction. maybe i am too scared of men. all the responsibility involved in sex (as my boy above said, "too many designs"). the fear of being used. (the fear, period of things i have long put out of my head i thought). the fear of commitment. the crassness of growing old and ugly. the mediocrity of the single identity that you melt into with a man. the slithering of ties around your wrists. the guilt and contemptuousness thrown at each other like pies in the face.

yeah so boys.... but i have met a couple of men lately who have proven me wrong about men- or at least some of them. they have been kind, respectful, honest, interested. one of them with blue eyes and long lashes declared his infatuation with me at the coffeeshop this morning, and i melted appropriately. one of them escorted me home the other night, many blocks walking his bike. no pressure, genuine friendliness in the latter case. no pressure, but direct and honest lust from the former, for me as a whole, not just the exterior. it intrigued me. i wonder... well i appreciate the lesson but i am still not relaxed enough to trust them or (ack) make love to them (men!). even though the loins are stirring properly at the sight of a manly set of shoulders, a mysterious glare. i just can't tap that deep, passionate... thing that is supposed to happen with a man. i have never been able to look into a man's eyes and see any respect or caring there, and that is it for me, no intimacy possible from that point on. & in a lot of ways i have repressed my identity as a woman as well, preferring to remain a girl. hating the woman in me. i wonder if that will ever change?

people tell me that there are other types of relationships, but i don't really believe in them. i think people fall in love with love, and then out of it. they all just need something to believe in, like religion, at which i also scoff regularly. i think comfort is better long term (or is it?)... anyway i have been reading another girl's story of late, a writer like me but probably better, more focused. in boulder. one of those interesting people i meet a week or so before i leave a place, ugh. but she is awakening me with her writing to the magic of men. the romance and passion. the integrity. her name is 'k', and i appreciate her(!) for that. i now look forward to a whole city full of amazing men to practice acclimating myself to, in my head anyway, and a new girl friend to reflect off of and sometimes model. (i'll take another tantra yoga class too and whoever unstops this bottle is going to have a hell of a flood, god help them. hehe.) ahem. let's see.


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