Blistered and limping from the trail I felt physically vulnerable, which led to emotional vulnerability, which worsened when I got the I'm-seeing-someone-else-I-love-you email. I was mad at the twists and turns in life and wanted to feel power in a situation, to be with a man who I could predict and who couldn't hurt me.
I texted "W____", who I went on two dates with in January. Like several men before him, we'd slept together on the second date and I sent an "I'm not interested" text message a few days later, yet "W_____" was different in that I kind of liked him and he wasn't a douche. I wasn't interested in moving forward with dating or a relationship, but as it turned out, I was very interested in seeing him 1-2 times a month and having sex. Not so shockingly, he supported this interest as well.
He responded to my text immediately, as I knew he would, and I had a brief moment where I cringed at taking him for granted. With W_____, as opposed to Crazy Chinatown Man, I'm the one who's flaky and unclear. I cancel plans, I tease, I lead him on because I know I can. He, on the other hand, is constant and loyal and most importantly, likes me more than I like him. Even when he had a girlfriend a few months ago, the balance was in my favor.
On that night, feeling like shit about my physical and mental condition, I wanted nothing more than to be alone with him in his $500/month windowless basement apartment, drinking wine, and touching, which is exactly how we ended up. He kissed the spots on my hips where my backpack chafed away my skin and said "You've been working hard. It's sexy."
"We can have sex in any position where there's no pressure on my knees," I explained, hoping he'd think that was sexy too.
And we did. Twice.
The next morning I woke up and wondered if I'd made a huge mistake by writing him off seven months ago. Kind, calm, creative, supportive, humble, dependable, JEWISH are the adjectives I'd use to describe him. Above average lover. Above average cook. Great body. Previously arrested.
Zero intellectual chemistry. Kind of boring. Pothead.
Am I being too picky?
I texted "W____", who I went on two dates with in January. Like several men before him, we'd slept together on the second date and I sent an "I'm not interested" text message a few days later, yet "W_____" was different in that I kind of liked him and he wasn't a douche. I wasn't interested in moving forward with dating or a relationship, but as it turned out, I was very interested in seeing him 1-2 times a month and having sex. Not so shockingly, he supported this interest as well.
He responded to my text immediately, as I knew he would, and I had a brief moment where I cringed at taking him for granted. With W_____, as opposed to Crazy Chinatown Man, I'm the one who's flaky and unclear. I cancel plans, I tease, I lead him on because I know I can. He, on the other hand, is constant and loyal and most importantly, likes me more than I like him. Even when he had a girlfriend a few months ago, the balance was in my favor.
On that night, feeling like shit about my physical and mental condition, I wanted nothing more than to be alone with him in his $500/month windowless basement apartment, drinking wine, and touching, which is exactly how we ended up. He kissed the spots on my hips where my backpack chafed away my skin and said "You've been working hard. It's sexy."
"We can have sex in any position where there's no pressure on my knees," I explained, hoping he'd think that was sexy too.
And we did. Twice.
The next morning I woke up and wondered if I'd made a huge mistake by writing him off seven months ago. Kind, calm, creative, supportive, humble, dependable, JEWISH are the adjectives I'd use to describe him. Above average lover. Above average cook. Great body. Previously arrested.
Zero intellectual chemistry. Kind of boring. Pothead.
Am I being too picky?
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