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| Satin sheets are very romantic. But counter tops are fun. |
Ultimately, I am not a maneater. I'm just an attractive successfully single woman enjoying her freedom. I'm not reckless with other people's feelings, but I'm not completely innocent in affairs of the heart either. I don't attach too heavily to anyone because most men are full of shit, and I get it. I retain my freedom to become infatuated and enamored at will for however long, and to move on as the wind takes me, and to dispel reject whomever dissatisfies me.
So, I have a lover, who we'll call BJ (it really is the perfect moniker, considering). He's my ideal lover. I met BJ a little over a year ago, and like most of my memorable encounters our activities were instantaneous, and unplanned. Of all the lovers I've had in the past two years BJ is hands down my favorite.
We have fun together - obvi. We don't argue for useless bullshit - because there's nothing to argue about. We either hang out, or we don't, but no one gets butt-hurt over anything. We have intelligent, interesting conversations. BJ even once hooked up with someone I knew, and didn't flip out on me when I told him he could hook up with anyone else except for her. (Even though I had, and have no place putting boundaries on his boners).
BJ never says things to me like "you drink too much," or "you smoke too much," or "you talk too much." BJ has never once criticized me for anything. This guy is perfection.
A few weeks ago I met up with him in the city after my friend's birthday party. We had a drink, went back to his place and started getting it on when all of a sudden I pulled a flip out on him.
*Le sigh*
People are so afraid of, and turned off by my flip outs. And rightfully so. My flips outs are kind of ridiculous and terrible, not to mention completely usually unexpected.
So anyway, I hop off the kitchen counter, push him back and away from me, and storm into the bathroom. I sat there for about twenty minutes, being drunk, unbuckling my shoes and switching them for my boots. When I came out he was asleep, so I left, and hailed a cab to Port Authority to catch my bus for CT.
*Le sigh*
I was so put off with myself for having stormed out on BJ for no reason (that he knew of, but which I'd prefer to ignore and leave unaddressed). I decided, we for sure weren't going to see each other again, so I'd just delete his number and let that one go. Shrug.
Last week was extremely strained for me. My energy was off, I had a bunch of "feelings" running through me, fucking my whole shit up. I had a lot of things on my mind and in my face that I didn't want to deal with. But you know how that goes. The more you try to avoid what you know you need to face is the more it weighs on you. I might hate feelings (I do) but they still have to get dealt with.
So BJ texts me the other night and invites me over for a drink, because at the very least he says I owe him a rational explanation for why I flipped out. That was fair, and valid, and refreshing of him.
I replied that I have a few issues and things are complicated in my mind. An hour later, we met up, had a drink and were able to do what we do, easily. I was able to talk about some of the things that were bothering me and he was delightfully understanding. And he said something that I don't often hear. He told me that I needed to express myself more, and say what it was I wanted. He also said that maybe the friends I've lost recently weren't as awesome as I thought they were, or awesome enough to be friends with me. You know I loved that one, because everyone loves a nice long ego-stroking here and there.
I can't believe that I needed to be told that. But I did.
BJ is ultimately my ideal guy. He's intelligent. He's an adult. He's great in bed. He's respectful. He's compassionate, and understanding, and there's absolutely no unspoken upset or tension between us. Period. We have fun and we get along with minimal to no bullshit. I don't get stressed or anxious when I think about him, and I don't feel any overwhelming compulsion to act a certain way or steadily pay him attention.
I'm not going to jump the gun and assume I'll end up with him because I'm still not convinced I'm built for coupledom. Relationships are just very enigmatic to me, and they seem pointless. They seem like rigged videos games that can't be won.
If I didn't have these issues (or maybe one day when I stop having them), if I could construct a relationship where I didn't have to worry about getting in trouble, or being judged and criticized, or toyed with BJ would be exactly the type of guy I'd want it with. (Not saying BJ is that guy, but he's the type of guy I'd like). But then again, if there's this thing that is so comfortably uncomplicated, why would I ever want to put an expectation-riddled label on it that would in all likely hood only bring it to ruin?
I'm not saying he's the best thing since chocolate, peanut butter, and whipped cream on toast. But a light definitely turned on somewhere in my mind that perhaps, just maybe, it's possible that there is an intelligent, sexy, and respectful man out there that I could stand to know and interact with for longer than three weeks to three months. Who knew?
I wish there were more BJs in the world. You LOVE what I just did there.
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