Friday, December 1, 2017

[658] Nasty Womanizer

I expect this to sound horrible. I think it’ll be wild speculation, hugely sexist, and just make me sound like an ignorant generalizing pig. Mind you, I don’t even know what I’m going to say yet, but just the pattern that I’ve noticed about my life I can tell is fucked and dangerous.

I think I “do women” wrong. I don’t mean sex. I think that I, in some form or another, destroy every form of relationship, merely friendly or otherwise, with any girl who doesn’t more or less act like a guy.

“What do you mean act like a guy?”

I mean that guys don’t give a shit. Guys fight and make up in minutes. Guys ignore each other and assume there isn’t a problem. Guys don’t “tolerate” and smile like they have a secret at the ready to destroy your life. Guys can hear some problem about your life and not automatically think it’s bigger than the moment or about them. And while often callous and rude, they have considerably easier attitudes regarding the “meaning” of sex.

“Sexist generalizing pig.”

Great, is that out of your system now?

I’ve managed to find myself feeling guilty when I can see a girl likes me. Basically every time. I've had girls, without prompting, send me naked pictures. I've had them signal their jealousy over my actions, even and especially when they were doing the same things at the same times. I've had the charmed engaging conversations that end with intense eye contact (like you really understand each other) the whole time. The drunk brush up against each other that leads to a quickie in the middle of the party on the side of the house. [An apparently way more complicated encounter than I realized at the time.] [No, really.] I notice all the looks from across the room, the hair brushing, and the laughing too hard.

The guilt comes from knowing what to do with it. It starting to feel like manipulation instead of two people consciously choosing to be together. It was always the clear hard and fast line between who I was with, and who I might be hooking up with. Attraction and being turned on are so easy. There are, presumably, supposed to be people that sustain you like water, but who gives a shit the nights you want to drink a bottle of wine? Basically everyone, I know.

Now, as a perv, of course I'm still willing to play along. I'm not of the rape variety so just because you like me doesn't mean it's my fault. That's a weird phrasing right? Like I should be blamed for making you smile or laugh or something. How far might that complex be unraveled as this goes on?

In any event, much as I fail to appeal to anyone's willingness to converse honestly about their lives in general, add all of the cultural and interpersonal muck that comes along with sex and attraction, and literally everyone whose ever been attracted to me becomes a time bomb. Your guy friends have things you like to do together like hike or play video games. Your girl friends can certainly be into those things, but if you've slept together, there's at least the suggestion that's on the table too. Again, as a perv, I try to work the angle that seemed to be primarily how we've spent most of our time together...at least, alone.

I've always tried to be clear that I'm not a dog in need of a leash. I can stop flirting cold turkey and treat you like a Catholic nun or like I do when a friend gets married, scared to even dance too close. Just like I go straight to the harsh or obnoxious thing to say, I'm not shy about finding you attractive, but, as the kids say, I'm not “thirsty.” But, and who could have guessed? Basically everyone, I know. Girls don't like that.

What happens is that they want it all, and they want it all to feel “natural.” You know, as natural as I seemed when we first hooked up or got to talking about something and I signaled all the things that make me cool. Sex isn't off the table, but make her fall in love with you all over again, dammit! And no, she's not your guy friend. She doesn't want to hang out and go bowling or drive around aimlessly until you resolve yourselves to playing video games again.

For me, it's a lose lose. I like at least something about you. I was, likely over-active, in trying to pack you under this new and excitable friend/family umbrella in college. So witless wonder over here is happy to have this new “friend” who, oh boy! We can have sex sometimes too!? Thinking life is grand. The girl is growing more and more frustrated that I'm still me, hot for other people, and not maturing enough to settle down and dance around conversations regarding deeper commitments.

Meanwhile, in the girl mind, whether she's conscious of it or not, everything from biology and culture is signaling to her that she'll be a failure without a mate. I don't give a fuck how many female CEOs we force into carrying the mantel of empowerment, there's way more working against women becoming domineering sociopaths in equal measure to men that will speak to what I'm trying to.

So you've got me, presumably cute, smart, shown to care for his friends and be charming, ambitious, and funny to boot, AND HE DOESNT' WANT ME!!!!???? I really can't stress this enough, I'm not making an ego claim here. I think this is what happens in every cute girl with regard to every boy they don't “marry” in some form or another that they could actually imagine themselves with. Girls sexually select for the species, after all, and they've selected me plenty. To my knowledge, I don't have any kids running around, and my longest relationship, which incidentally I also considered my best friendship, has been over for either one year or three depending on your understanding of how, when, and why relationships break down.

The funniest? It has to be funny, change is in the girls who've shown attraction and then gotten married or “pair bonded for real.” So mean lol. Just so, so mean, and disregarding. They have their man, I ain't shit, looking like some lonely dog who'll never GET WITH THIS so why bother talking to anymore? My flirtations become automatic weapons. My presence nothing but a reminder of their fickle childish heart who should have been pursuing whomever they're with currently. If they had the patience to talk in the past, not anymore. If they might have shot the shit on facebook, defriended. They don't even want me looking at them.

I've sort of left out talking about the girls that act like guys because, well, they're just kinda that simple. They don't need to fear me hitting on them because they don't care. It's not a threat. They're either comfortable enough with themselves or in their relationship that I'm not going to register as something worth the time and energy to resent. They're the ones I can just go have lunch with or will hit me up for the booty call.

I suspect this is what is meant regarding the cliché about men and women being unable to be friends. The feelings get involved they say. Guys and girls have different types of friendships. It's done a fair amount of work in my life to chase away a couple dozen girls who've at least liked me enough to risk a conversation regarding plan B in the morning. Do we just wash our hands and hand all of the responsibility over to biology? Can “friend” ever be found in the fog of sex wars? Yes, but not often enough in my experience.

That's why, for me, things like marriage have always felt so stupid. I'm under no illusions that if I kept the game going long enough, I could have persuaded no less than 4 or 5 different women to have married me by now. I could have never spoken the words “open relationship” again. I could schedule monthly flowers or chocolates or surprises. I could do the “little things” like extra cleaning around the house. Be the all-around shining beacon on the hill marriage material type. And it would have all been bullshit. There would be happy-enough times and it doesn't hurt to have companionship and it's not like I wouldn't like or care about them, but I saw they wanted me to lie, so I did. You know, sacrificing for our love.

People will tell you otherwise. They'll say things like “soulmate” and “best friend” and whatever else. It's complete and utter bullshit. It's settling. It's negotiating. It's literal contract law. I've never seen more glorious pictures of people together than in the relationships I know have been through the most ridiculous and harrowing fights. I'm talking months or years for some issues. Me being able to count on one hand the amount of times I might call what me and my ex seriously fought about in 5 years? You might catch us in a picture at someone else's wedding, or a group setting at the bar. I, at least, didn't feel I had anything to prove. I tried to be there, I tried to talk. I don't know how you have anything if you don't have those. And I don't know if those are much of anyone else's business. I'll meekly qualify that I'm happy for you and I'm not angry that you want to show off your hot spouse or share what makes you happy, but, meh.

That brings to mind an exacerbation point. It's culturally significant to post and share all the time. God forbid your relationship isn't professionally photographed. Be dammed the idea you're not living out your dreams together. And it goes to either extreme. You get the mutually abusive ridiculous white-trash who will post vague-book jeers at their spouse nonstop, or your get the fairy tale stream, occasionally mentioning something safely depreciating because we're still human, after all.

You can't just want to “be around.” You can't just want to make them laugh. You can't just be good in bed. You can't just care about them or whatever else that you find fun and fulfilling and meaningful. You need to be willing to plug them into the story that means everything to everyone else. They want the likes and awwwwwws on their pictures. They want to bring a tear to their mother's eye as they try on dresses. They want to comfortably flirt with guys down the line just long enough before they flash the ring. It's not about being with them as much as the story about them. Girls protect their reputations. Guys say, “fuck it, wanna fight about it?” or endlessly deny and get mildly suicidal so...

I think this is just my very long-winded way of saying, I know it's my fault. Before I forgo the ability to ever say so again as my capitulation to our backwards times compels. I know it's me, not you. Your biology has no place for my ideals. Your fantasy man didn't exist anymore than my mutually appreciative loving friend-family did. Something something pheromones. It's why I say I won't be relevant to many of my past associates until we're old and the petty scorn has worn off. I'm basically a 65 year old woman, taking if you're giving, but not on the hunt, and honey, save your ideas of love and companionship for someone who hasn't had 3 husbands die on her. I've only got so much of my life left to live, and I'm not going to use it to help you hashtag yours lol.