Saturday, December 22, 2012

Universal truths and the last 20 men on earth

There are some things that you need to believe are truth, whether reality supports them or not.  My world doesn't function without them.  When I look at who I am, what I stand for, and what drives me down the path of being the best person I can be each day, it's because I don't just believe the following.  I know they're true.
  • When good and evil collide, the pure light of good will always hit harder and triumph every single time.  If I believe that I'm made up of something white and light, then I know I can come up against anything dark and evil in this world or beyond and defeat it.  It's why so few things scare me in this world.  It's how I know you're safe with me.  If I am an instrument of good, then there is nothing I can't protect you from.  No matter how many mistakes or missteps, I know my heart is good and I'm smart enough to follow it.  There is no white light that I summon to protect me.  It comes from within me.
  • Good things happen to good people and bad things happen to bad people.  I believe in Karma.  While I may joke that it's my job to help Karma dole out punishments, it's very much a joke.  There is something very freeing about looking at someone who has wronged you and walking away knowing that it's not your job to punish them or exact revenge.  It's leaves your conscience clear.  The moment you step in the mud, you will always be dirty.  I have had my moments of revenge.  All I learned is that once I acted in the wrong, I had something to atone for myself.  I have stopped worrying about justice for everyone else.  It's not my business. 
  • I can make anything happen.  Anything.  I believe that every person was blessed by God with the same fundamental brain and you have the ability to do whatever you want with it.  With the proper training, I can do anything. Be anything.  I can hold any position in any company, anywhere in the world. I sincerely believe that.  There's nobody who can do anything better than I can on an intellectual level.  That's nonsense.  If you look around and see someone doing a job that you wish you could do, then I suggest you apply yourself and do it.  There's nothing getting in the way but you.  Freedom of choice and free will open every door for you.  You just have to be brave enough to figure out which key fits the lock.  If you don't like your life, change it.  Period.
  •  You will be presented with the same lesson over and over again until you learn it.  We find ourselves running into the same problem at work over and over.  We date the same asshole. The same girls talk bad about us behind our backs.  The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result.  Maybe, just maybe, you should approach the situation differently.  Stop dating the exact same idiot with a (hopefully) different name.  Make better choices on who you hang out with and tell your secrets to.  I don't expect you to know who is good and who is selfish, but you can back away from people once you figure it out.  The trick is not to be jaded for the next round and not hold the sins of others against the innocent.    
  • You feel certain things for certain people for a reason.  Some people believe that you encounter the same souls over and over through reincarnation and those you have wronged before, you will pay in this life.  If you loved someone in the past, you will feel a bond to them in this life.  You can work off your debt and settle the score and set your soul free.  Or you can continue to fight through this life and future ones.  Me? I'd rather learn my lessons this time around.  Mom, this one is for you.  I will resolve this in this life because I don't want to run into you again.  I don't want you visiting me as my grandchild.  I don't want to be your boss or your neighbor.  The battle that has torn my heart apart will end here.  That much I can promise you.
  • Your goals mean nothing if you're not clear on your motivations.  There was a time when I wanted to get my degree, make a certain amount of money, get married, have a baby, and buy a house.  I crossed all that shit off my list and what happened?  It all fell to fucking pieces.  I don't think it was a coincidence.  You can't plow through your life with a checklist that someone handed you and you completed because you didn't know what else to do.  I'm starting to realize me saying that I want to be happy is another delusion of this.  I need to know exactly what makes me happy and why those things make me happy if I really want to reach the goals in my life.  I want to be comfortable in my own skin because I like myself.  I want to love someone and be loved because I deserve to be accepted for who I am.  I want to have a good job and make money to give my daughter the type of life that I always wanted to have.  I want to trust people and believe there is good in them because I need the world to be worth living in.
I've been spending a lot of time thinking about where I am in my life and where my healing is post divorce and what I really want out of life.  I'm at a point with men where the stories aren't cute anymore.  Nobody is amused.  I've been around the block in every sense of the word.  I know better than to make stupid mistakes now.  There are few accidents.  I know not to sleep with a guy on the first date.  I know the mess that happens when you date multiple guys.  I can spot the idiots, dodge the manipulators, and ignore the frat boys (or use them for sex. whatever). I feel like it takes little effort these days to side step messes.  I hop over garbage cans overturned in the street and jump to avoid puddles while absentmindedly texting. That doesn't mean I don't get my heart broken. I'm also still taken my surprise by men who are better at this shit than I am and manage to get what they want from me before I figure out what they're after.  I'm not handing out blue ribbons.  I'm not lining them up for execution either.  These days my battle scars come from my own personal struggle to accept who I am and the men slot in secondary.  You know what I realized when it comes to men?  I don't have to be fair.
I always took this great humanitarian view to dating.  Everyone is special and has something to offer and I shouldn't be shallow or have unrealistic expectations.  Just because I accomplished certain things, it didn't mean the man I was dating had to do those things.  And then I wondered why they felt like they didn't compare to me.  Isn't that hilarious?  Here's the bottom line: I'm pretty and smart.  If you're not pretty and smart, I think you really should feel inferior.  Why the fuck are you trying to date me and act crazy around me if you're not good enough for me?  Because you just couldn't resist?  Well, I'll tell you what, Alfalfa, we can be friends, ok?  I'll get to know you and we can go skipping into the night, but we're not getting married, keep your hands off my panties, and let's not make a mess.  I used to think that if a guy was ballsy enough to rip my clothes off, he should get to fuck me.  Again, so hilarious.  Just because some idiot decides to go for it and touch the pretty girl, doesn't mean he gets to have sex with me and then carry an all access pass to do so in the future.  How was I so crazy?  You don't get rewarded for being a total ass.  I seem to make up all of these crazy rules that I decide to live by for no real reason.  I only go home with nice guys.  If you want me, you get a chance. There are more important things than formal education.  His personality enhances his looks.  You know what, motherfucker?  I started pretty, my personality is awesome, I'm educated, and I'm a nice person.  If you don't have that baseline, you don't qualify to date me.  Period.  I'm tired of making excuses for guys because I feel like a dick for having high standards.  I'm called The Elitist for a reason.  It's because I'm awesome.  You should be too without me convincing anyone, including myself. 
I'm not saying I'm immune to the many tricks men play on women.  I'm far, far from that.  In fact, I still think I have remarkably bad taste in men.  My reaction is different now.  Instead of feeling bad and exacting revenge, I put on my big girl panties and tell them they hurt me and why.  If I'm not satisfied with their response (which is usually silence because they're pussies), then I just walk away.  That's a far cry from being kicked in the face, dropping to my knees, unsheathing my blades, and tasting their blood as I walk out the door and listen for their bodies to hit the ground.  There are no blades anymore.  The only blood I taste is my own on my lip, which mixes with my tears from finally feeling the hurt that is done to me.  I am unwilling to "help" Karma anymore.  I don't want their blood or their tears.  I just want some honesty from the interactions in my life.  I want to feel like someone sees me for me and likes me just the way I am.  Whether I'm made up in a dress and heels or hung over in sweats.  I've been so afraid to show people who I really am.  I'm not afraid of that anymore.  I'm so much more comfortable in my own skin than I was 10 years ago.  What I can control is my response to how men treat me.  While I've learned to be open with my emotions and feel things, I've also realized that letting someone see that side of me is a privilege worth guarding.  You can hurt me, but I don't need to lay myself at your feet so you can watch.  I think I'd like to keep my dignity and self-respect, thanks.  The bottom line is that nobody is an asshole repeatedly on accident.  Anyone who is willing to treat you like shit, sure as fuck doesn't care enough to listen to you unburden your heart and express your feelings to them.  It's not worth wasting my time or energy on them.
I think I get hurt more easily these days because I'm willing to indulge in the fantasy.  I can tell you I'm sitting here and my heart is hurting, the question is why.  Did I get close to someone?  Or did I just embrace a fantasy of what could be and put his face on it?  Maybe it was both.  What I can tell you, the pain of understanding that I was being fucked with sent me into a Hazard-fueled fantasy that took 4 people to talk me out of.  I think I put it best when I declared that I needed to be put in a time out.  So I put myself in one and calmed the fuck down and didn't leave the house again until I could be trusted not to vandalize him, his property, or anyone in his family.  Talk about a full blown psychotic tantrum.  I'm not going to play innocent here.  I didn't think everything was fine and then was surprised when things went wrong.  I know red flags when I see them.  Hello much older guy, new career, no education, selfish tendencies.  I got it.  Did I tell him I only had eyes for him then sleep with three other guys?  I totally did and I don't feel bad about it either.  Would I have only been his if he told me even once that he wanted me or even wanted to see me again?  Yep.  You want to know what the problem is?  I've seen this man before.  Let's say over the past two years I've met roughly 200 guys and maybe spent time with 80 of them.  You can say 60.  It doesn't matter.  Through half of the states in this country and three other countries, I can tell you that I've met roughly 20 different men in all age ranges, ethnicities, and career paths.  They present themselves over and over.  It's so cookie cutter at this point that I could probably give you an example of each and the top 3 names I typically find for each type.  Career paths and hobbies too.  It's insane. Let's make a list of the main ones just for funsies:
  1. The laziest man alive: The guy never visits you at work, he doesn't come to your house, and when you're at his place, he doesn't really move unless you're having sex with him and even then, he makes you be on top.  He tells your straight out that he's lazy like it's a disclaimer he can use as an excuse.  You want to know what his problem is?  He's a selfish, unmotivated child.  This one doesn't grow up.  I've slept with him from early 20s to late 40s and he's fucking cookie cutter.  He has no real education or career.  He is stuck in loser mode and he loves me because I mulitask like a motherfucker, so I can see him and give him financial advice, all while I have sex with him, clean the bathroom, and order take out.  I'm not just bored with this guy. I'm disgusted by him.
  2. Mr socially awkward: This guy isn't quite sure who he should be or what he should do.  He's probably some sort of engineer or nerd who likes to play video games online.  A lot of times he's really funny.  More than often he's terrible in bed because he has trouble relating to other people.  He can be as good at talking about academics or current events as he is at figuring out where your gspot is or just what turns women on.  The term energizer bunny comes to mind.  I literally can't fake any more orgasms with this guy.
  3. The frat boy: This is the hot guy and he knows it.  Look at my six pack.  He has no idea if he has a big dick or not.  He's probably never had sex sober and he says things like "I don't mean to brag, but I'm realllly good at fantasy football." and "I wish I could find a nice girl, but I can't, so I just have fun now." This guy hasn't even heard of a gspot. He knows maybe two or three good tricks, but really after about two minutes he's dead asleep and you're trying to get his leg off of you to escape out the window.  These guys usually just want to be loved and have trouble admitting it.  They tend to cuddle in their sleep and make you feel dirty about, well, everything. Number 1 career, surprisingly, seems to be in pest control.  Love how far those looks got you, baby.
  4. Mr low self esteem: He's not good enough for you. He's depressed.  And paranoid.  He treats you like shit because he feels like shit.  He's trying to convince you not to be with him, right?  No, he's trying to feel better about himself by making you feel bad.  He has decided that if he can't have you, then you should think nobody wants you.  He's essentially an emotionally abusive prick.  I've seen a lot of substance abuse with this one, whether he's an alcoholic or smokes weed or whatever it is he's using to cover up the fact that he has no friends, long term goals, or he's never recovered from his high school girlfriend cheating on him.
  5. The used car salesman: This guy likes to tell you all the right things, but you know something is wrong from the start.  It sounds scripted, he's nervous, he can't execute a single play, whether it's putting his arm around you or taking your clothes off.  You marvel how he screws up shower sex and at how badly you want to muzzle him.  He has lots of big ideas for who he should be, but no idea of how he should get there.  You don't work with him and he makes you nervous.  It's like the more he talks, the less you trust him.  Grand sense of entitlement with nothing to back it up.
  6. The funny guy: He keeps you laughing all night.  He's so used to being in the friend zone that he's not sure what to do when you want to take his pants off.  Does he act like an asshole?  Does he gaze into your eyes sweetly?  Is he allowed to snuggle with you?  Should he crack jokes during sex? He has absolutely no clue.  Sleeping with this guy is as confusing of an experience as spending time with him fully dressed is fun.  I'm not sure if it's a coincidence that most of these guys have small dicks, but it seems to be a trend.  I actually don't mind this one too much.  He's a lot more sincere than most and you can teach someone bedroom etiquette.  
  7. The smooth talker:  This guy is the used car salesman, but convincing.  He usually works in sales and makes a decent living, so he's confident.  He knows what he has to say to get you where he wants you, but as soon as he has you, he loses interest.  He wants the chase, not the kill.  He doesn't even need to sleep with you.  The saying "if it's too good to be true, it probably is" came from a few months of dating this asshat.  Real men screw up, say the wrong thing, and embarrass themselves.  It's a good thing and it should happen.  It makes you feel better when you act stupid too.
  8. The doormat: This guy apologizes for everything, whether he did something or not.  OMG are you mad? I'm so sorry.  Did I upset you? I'm sorry.  Did I do something wrong?  Is there a way you could've perceived anything I did at any point in this conversation or in a conversation with anyone I've ever had that may have upset you?  I'm so sorry!  Can you forgive me? Have I blown my chances with you?  Can I fix it?  I can't deal with this man.  My hand involuntarily reaches out to cover their mouth.  The phone hangs itself up.  
  9. Mr desperate: This guy just wants to be with someone, anyone.  Be my girlfriend. You're the one.  You're perfect--all I need is a female.  This guy creeps me out so badly I don't know where to start.  He loves you after a week.  He talks about marriage on the first date.  He jokes about taking trips together and naming your kids way too early.  He seems to need validation from a relationship that you should get on your own.  If you've ever wanted to just marry anyone, this is your guy.  If you have some self respect and want someone to want you specifically then keep walking.  These are commonly freshly divorced or just past 30 and not where they want to be in their career.
  10. The straight gay guy: This guy is not attractive.  This is really the only requirement here.  I have male friends who are nice guys and assholes with the same result.  They're safe.  You would never sleep with them, no matter how drunk you are, so they can go shopping with you.  They can see you in your panties.  You may even get sexy pictures.  But you'll never have the real thing.  Zero sexual tension.  You probably even feel bad about it, but it doesn't change anything.  You actually wish he was gay because then you wouldn't feel bad about never wanting to touch his penis.  Ever.  
  11. The player:  This guy is always busy or won't make plans with you in advance.  He calls you last minute when plans fall through.  He thinks making plans on a Friday is a big deal because it's prime time, unless it's Friday morning of course.  You'll never get a commitment out of this guy because he wants as many girls paying attention to him at once to help him deal with is mommy issues or low self esteem or whatever the hell he's compensating for.  Honestly, I think he's just afraid of being alone and letting anyone see who he really is.  I feel most sorry for this one. He's in for a long, lonely life.
  12. The soldier:  I didn't really understand what a type this really is, but military boys are a special breed.  They take direct orders.  Most have PTSD, issues with authority, think it's ok for grown men to sleep in bunk beds, and don't know what a normal haircut looks like.  I've seen a lot of rage issues, disconnection with reality, and no ability to make long term goals or how to reach them.  For someone with a no military rule, I sure have been with a lot of them in pretty much every branch.  Nothing good has ever come of it.  I've heard a lot of terrible stories, been given tons of weird excuses for why they drop off the face of the earth and ignore me for long periods of time, and felt generally unnerved by the energy they give off.  It makes me sad.  They're not bad guys.  I like to call them The Lost Boys.
  13. The nice guy:  I always say that I have a nice guy rule.  He asks your name at the club, feels bad for sleeping with you too fast, and pays for everything.  They usually open the door for you, will tell you they like you, and let you pick what you're doing.  The funny thing is that most want a bitchy, high maintenance chick that's full of drama.  I'm a nice person.  That usually means they lose interest in me.  Maybe they're so vanilla that they need some rainbow sherbet.  I don't know.  I'll cover you in whipped cream and hot fudge, but I won't treat you like shit to keep you. It's not in me. 
  14. The jock:  This idiot works out 5 days a week. He may scream "crossfit" at you and talk about the Paleo diet.  Good luck trying to order dessert when you're out with him.  The funny thing is that most of these guys have a beer drinking problem and don't see why alcohol shouldn't mesh with their healthy lifestyle.  They think that skinny girls aren't good enough because they're not toned.  God help you if you don't have a perfectly flat stomach and sculpted ass.  Nothing is ever good enough for these guys.  They have to go harder, test themselves and you, and reach higher something or other.  Yeah, I was ignoring you and eating a cheeseburger.  My bad. But enjoy your steroids and diet supplements.
  15. The pretender: This guy starts as one of these other guys and ends up a totally different one.  Sometimes it's a good surprise and sometimes it's not.  Most of the time I think this is just the defense mechanism at work.  You see him watching out for his guys in Vegas and the second they're gone, he tries to fuck you in the bathroom.  Whoa, buddy, you're not nice.  Sometimes they pretend to be a player, then want your phone number, email, and add you on facebook because they want to make googly eyes at you.  He may drive over to bring you dinner one night, then act like he's never seen an oven before and declare that if it's not delivered to his house, he doesn't eat it.  I think girls fantasize about finding a player who is really a nice guy or boyfriend.  I blame the media.
  16. The boyfriend: I love this guy, I do.  He's fabulous in bed.  He notices when your bra and panties match.  When you take a shower together, he lets you stay in the hot water and probably also washes you off.  You catch him running his hands over you when you're having sex instead of just grunting and sweating all over you. He likes to kiss and cuddle.  The problem is he may not want to be your boyfriend.  He just acts like one naturally, so you get attached to him whether you want to or not.  This one can work out well or not.  I guess it depends on whether he's actually single or whether you want a boyfriend too.  I had way too many of these cross my path.  Some have been married or engaged and wanted to have an affair with me.  Some wanted to be a bootycall, but had no idea how to pull it off, and others I wanted to keep, but didn't want to be kept.  I appreciate them nonetheless.  One day I'd like to keep a faithful one.
  17. The reformed dickhead: This guy grew up.  I think this is my favorite.  He used to be some sort of asshole, but he had a daughter, fucked up the love of his life, or realized there was more to life than him and what his dick wanted to do 5 nights a week.  He's got residual personality from his past life, but he doesn't take it seriously anymore.  He's usually funny because of it and can laugh at himself.  I consider myself a reformed dickhead, which is maybe why I'm so amused when I run into one.  They usually have a real job, are at least in their 30s, and may suffer relapses at times, but don't we all?   
  18. The pussy-whipped bitch: Also known as a husband.  Yeah, I said it.  This is actually a compliment.  This guy loves his woman. He tells everyone.  He holds her purse, knows where she loves to shop, goes dancing with her even when he hates it, and is genuinely in touch with his feminine side.  He usually cooks.  He's great with the kids.  He can be more of a chick than his wife.  I love this guy.  I envy their wives.  I wonder what it's like to be with a guy who publicly declares his love for you and wants to kiss you with witnesses.  Hopefully their wife is just as much of a whipped trick and gives him blowjobs while he plays video games, buys him cool cars, insists he hangs out with his friends, and surprises him with new toys regularly.  I know I was that kind of wife.  I hope I am again one day.
  19. Mr scared of his own shadow: This is the painfully shy guy.  Sometimes I wonder if he has the courage to look at himself naked, nevermind a girl.  I always picture him locked in a dark room masturbating with the music up loud to make sure the neighbors don't hear him with his bottle of lotion. If you have sex with this guy, don't attempt to be on top.  You'll scare them to death.  In fact, you may have to coax them out from behind the couch.  I'd like to tell you I made that up, but that literally happened to me once.  Now I've had these guys warm up and come out of their shells and be crazy good in bed or remain scared and be terrible.  It's a crap shoot, but wild cards always are.  I tend to always give the shy guys a chance because I like a little mystery.  When they're good, they're awesome, but they're bad, you hit the crazy jackpot and you should evacuate as soon as possible.
  20. The girl: He's more emotional than you are.  He also has a better fashion sense.  You may have caught him with your eye liner, lipgloss, or nail polish.  His skinny jeans are too tight for you to fit into.  He may weight less than you do.  When he made you breakfast in the morning, were the pancakes made from scratch?  Does he have a collection of chick flicks?  Did he cry after sex?  We've all run into this guy.  If there's one thing I hate, it's a man telling me he doesn't like my purse.  He should also not cry constantly and start drama.  Some women want to be the man and they really like this in a relationship.  I do not.  Not at this point in my life anyway.  I'm past my power trip and ready for someone to take me in hand and act like a fucking man for once.  If I wanted to date a girl, I would. Period.
Did I miss any?  Chances are you've run into combinations of these in different men.  I guarantee you they're all out there.  The funny thing is with male names not being as varied as women's, I literally meet man and after man with the same look, name and personality. It's enough to make you think you've gone crazy.  Didn't I sleep with you in Vegas but your name was Mike? I look at Mr 6 ft tall, blue eyes, and brown hair with dimples and a perfect smile and think, hello there, old friend.  I've slept with you about 6 other times, and I'm willing to bet your name is Brian, Jason, Chris, or Matt and you think you're suave as fuck, but you've got a 6 inch dick, have no idea what you're doing, are way too rough for no particular reason, and your average is about 3 minutes.  How did I do? I smiled when I wrote these out.  I thought of all the men I've met, several of whom I still adore and miss all the time.  There are plenty that made me groan, but really I laughed.  All of these experiences are funny.  There are no regrets when it comes to meeting all of these people and having whatever interactions I did with them.  I took something from all of it, mostly the ability to see what I do and don't want.  Excuse me, can I get a socially awkward, funny, reformed dickhead of a pussy-whipped bitch? Thanks...order up!


Wednesday, December 19, 2012

Vulnerabilities, attack of the exes, and the sexting revolution


My writing today comes after talking with one of my best friends.  She is a woman who is as close to understanding how my heart works when it comes to men as anyone can get.  I have listened to her with the unique pain of knowing exactly what she’s felt in the past.  It is because of this that when she talks to me about men, I listen very closely.  It’s no accident that she’s one of the few people who can effortlessly pull me out of a funk (just like my younger sister and my bff) and for the same reason I am quoting her now.  Why do you want someone who isn’t there for you? Someone who only makes time when it’s convenient? Someone who treats you strictly as arm candy? Someone who is embarrassed to be seen with you at a work function? Someone who treats you like an option? It doesn’t matter what his good qualities are.  Those all outweigh them.  Why do you want someone who doesn’t want you?” If I could print out this excerpt and keep it with me, I would. Instead I took a picture of the conversation on my phone and I will keep it there to remind me when I can’t find her. 
I had nothing to say.  I don’t want any of that.  It’s funny how someone can get into your heart and you don’t know how to push them out.  It doesn’t sound like a problem I should have, but I think the real problem is that I didn’t want to push him out.  I think I wanted someone to have my heart.  I forgot that they needed to deserve it so I just told myself that he did instead.  So here we are in a turbulent time of my life where I’m working so hard on my issues with my mother and desperately trying to accept who I am.  I have felt that these rough waters are coming soon to an end now that I’ve realized that it’s really me who controls how hard the wind blows in my mind.  I have told myself time and time again that I need to be brave enough to show weakness.  To feel as though for the first time since the divorce that someone is literally playing with my heart is a great shock to my nervous system.  Is this what it feels like to have feelings for someone again?  I’m allowed to be sad and disappointed, aren’t I?  What a terrible thing to have someone tell me that they want me and have to take a step back and realize that they don’t want me in the right way. It’s not a real way.  Do you think it’s ok to want me to cheer you up when you’re lonely, send you pretty pictures when you’re away from home, then make no effort to be with me when you have time? To pick anyone and everything else before me?  If someone really wants me, there should be nothing that would keep him from me.  I don’t do well with excuses.  I move mountains.  I make miracles.  I’ll juggle anything.  I think I’ve proved that already when it comes to someone important to me.  Now I need to figure out who is really worth being important. 
I’m tired of oceans of sadness.  I love my memories, but I don’t understand why so many of them decide to show themselves at the same time.  It’s an epidemic.  The ghosts of assholes past have been kneeling at my feet, wrapped in a pretty ribbons, waiting for me to reopen old wounds and examine what really happened.  There are some gifts that I’d rather not take into my home.  Look at all of these late night phone calls, texts, emails, and pictures that have been flooding in.  Late night stops and stolen hugs that I don't want.  Don't pick me up and press yourself against me when you don't deserve the privilege.  Maybe it’s the holidays that make people miss each other.  Did something cross your path that reminded you of me?  Someone laughing too loud across a room, the girl who opened the club and danced until they turned the music off in her miniskirt?  Maybe you came across an old pair or Reef sandals or bottle of sunscreen.  Do you miss walks on the beach with me or Thai food snuggled in your bed?  Who is snuggling with you now with the rain outside and a movie on?  Maybe Vegas doesn’t feel the same without me pulling you down the halls of our hotel.  Did you look into your eyes when thumbing through pictures of us and remember those happy days and wonder where I was?  I’m still here.  True to my word, I’m not going anywhere.  There isn’t a single man who is trying to keep me and when you see a woman walking down the aisle of a plane and the clicking of her cowboy boots, maybe you thought of me.  Is it time for a visit?  Roscoe’s chicken and waffles by your hotel.  Stories about your family and your past in strange cities, bachelor parties, pool party bbqs, weddings, and drinks on rooftop hotels.  Did you ever really know me?  I wonder what you think about when you’re looking into my eyes in those pictures—those eyes that you told me held the secrets of my age and my life because I was too busy off dancing somewhere to be pulled down to reality.  Well I have a surprise for you—I decided I wanted reality.  I also decided that there are some gifts that will not be brought inside into my heart and my home, no matter how pretty the ribbons are or how badly I want to pull them. 
I’m not saying all men from my past are bad.  There are some of them that I don’t really consider “past” or over yet because I’ve always maintained some sort of contact and level of affection for them.  Don’t convince yourself that any moment goes by that I don’t wonder why none of them wanted to try and keep me.  I used to tell myself that I didn’t want that, but it’s a bunch of bullshit.  Yes, I was a mess.  Maybe that’s the reason why nobody tried.  Ok.  But maybe not.  I asked some of them.  I think my favorite answer was something akin to “I didn’t ever say I didn’t want to keep you. I just didn’t think anything through. You know I never do.” Yes, I know.  Never stopped me from adoring him then or now.  I guess how the answers are received are as related to how well I know them as how well I feel they know me.  I got one “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Oh really? Are we playing stupid here?  Do you think I forgot that we were supposed to be friends and then you wanted to sleep with me just once, then run for your life?  Isn’t it fun to chase people around the country and make friends and play and pretend everything is just fine?  Until it isn’t.  Until you want to know why they actually don’t want you and what they really do want from you.  Mostly they just want to stand close to me.  To watch me from afar.  To say they touched me once.  They can all go fuck themselves.  They’re never touching me again.
The funny thing about relationships today is that they’re not all “relationships” and you can feel like someone is taking advantage of you or “touching” you when they’re not anywhere near you.  With Facebook, email, texting, Skype, FaceTime, and anything else you can think of, the sky is the limit.  Someone can “pay attention” to you while making no real effort for you whatsoever.  Somehow we’ve managed to tell ourselves that a text is a good as a phone call and a Skype session is as good as having me in your arms.  Do you really think that sending me a video of you jerking off is the same as having sex with me because I beg to differ.  I’m also eternally amused by how men seem to think that it’s acceptable to cut off their heads in pictures they want to send to women to entice them.  How impersonal.  If all I wanted was a picture of a cock, I could get that anywhere, like the internet.  HELLO.  Chances are there was something about you that I liked which included your face.  If you can’t manage to take a picture of your face, even fully clothed, I’m already annoyed.  Do you really think that I’m going to be satisfied looking at a picture of the guy I’m crazy about who is headless in his boxer shorts when I could go pick up a young thing at a bar just to have someone touch me?  It’s one thing if my guy is long distance.  It’s another if he’s not making an effort to see me for weeks after weeks.  That’s just hurtful.  I don’t care what the relationship is defined as—you need to be able to respond when I talk to you, tell me you want to see me, and actually make time to see me.  Period. 
It’s as though everyone has a “good enough” setting and I get subjected to whatever they’re lowest standard is.  I am constantly amused when men say “well, I’m lazy” like they’re trying to disclose it to me to make sure I’m prepared that they will not make an effort to come to my house, text me first, actually bring me dinner when they said they would, and basically blow me off except when it’s convenient for them.  Let me set some of my own expectations: I’m not every desperate bimbo you run into, I require some effort to make me feel special, and if you want to have a woman who will literally bend over backwards for you and do everything in her power to make your life better, then you need to act like you deserve it.  Sometimes I think they go out of their way to make me feel insecure, which is insanity.  Why would you do that to someone who you like?  Maybe because you don’t really like them.  When it comes to my exes, it’s my fault.  I don’t know why I picked some of the guys I did.  Probably just me not knowing what I wanted and giving everyone and everything a chance.  The most amusing part is that at the time, I never, ever would’ve called any of them my boyfriends or even admitted that we were dating.  Today when one contacts me, I can tell very clearly who I thought of in a relationship-like way.  I caught myself saying “oh yeah, he was my summer bf from summer before last.” It just fell out of my mouth.  I guess when there were feelings there, it doesn’t matter what form the relationship came in. I know what it felt like when it ended.  That’s the thing—you don’t discuss and agree upon feelings.  You just agree on titles.  But when it’s over, you don’t need to agree on titles either, do you?  Sometimes he’s just your boyfriend whether either of you wanted to admit it or not.
I wish I could have such brilliant insights while I’m in the middle of the relationships.  Maybe it would help if I wasn’t constantly juggling 5 men at once.  Do you know how good it felt for me to just have one for a while in there?  Oh those beautiful months of just you and me.  We make up these ridiculous rules and justifications—we’re not dating, we’re just friends with benefits.  Yes, he’s there for me, but not my boyfriend.  He’s the one I sigh over and the one I always want to spend the night with, so guess what? He’s my fucking boyfriend.  If I’m juggling other men because he can't tell me not to then that probably makes me a)the worst girlfriend ever b) half of a completely deluded couple that’s in denial c) still too damaged and too scared to function in a real relationship d) all of the above.  Yeah, I’m thinking d too.  I think the part that I keep missing in all of this relationship stuff is that I never let anyone else make any decisions.  I always map things out in my head the way I think it “has to” end up and then cut off the interaction.  I limit everything.  I’ve been trying to make my decisions, let the guy make theirs, then sit back and not freak out.  Not freaking out is not my strength, in case you haven’t noticed.  The second I get scared, the claws come out.  Push me to angry and Hazard shows up in full psycho mode ready to attack you, your career, and sometimes even your family if you happen to have adult children that I can sleep with to get under your skin.  That’s a pretty fierce defense mechanism, friends.  And let me tell you, after being kept under lock and key for so long, Hazard is fucking pissed.  She shows up to see me freshly wounded by a man who I arbitrarily decided to let near my heart and she’s begging for a chance to make it all better.  I almost let her.  I’m trying to regain control and use my logic to stop my heart from hurting instead of exacting a counter strike against the one who decided fucking with me was a good plan.  
I’m trying to land somewhere in between having to make all the rules and feeling like I’m a victim because I have no control over what someone else is doing to me or with my heart.  There has to be a middle ground here.  I’ve never been one to need labels or reassurance, but come on, you need to give me something.  Maybe they don’t realize that making me insecure brings out the monster to protect me.  Am I the only one with such a defense mechanism?  I can’t be.  One of my girlfriends was teasing me about how if I keep sleeping with this one guy for another month that he’ll hit one year and then he’ll get an exboyfriend title when we break up.  This is hilarious to me for so many different reasons.  First of all, what a shitty thing to get an “exboyfriend” title when you never got a “boyfriend” title to start with.  Really, we could’ve stopped sleeping together 2 months or 8 months ago and I think I would’ve called him that already.  You don’t step back from the only guy who really tickled my fancy for any extended amount of time and pretend that he didn’t matter.  Even I can’t do that.  People aren’t perfect, but this one has always, always made me smile.  He may have never wanted me to be his girlfriend, but after all the nights spent together, talks, dinners, crazy sex, and tears, it’s there whether you want it or not.  Damn feelings.  I’ll probably never be his proper girlfriend, but that’s ok.  I wouldn’t know how to be proper at anything anymore anyway. 
Seems like a cop-out, I know, but it’s me just trying to be grateful for any real interaction that has come my way in the past few years.  I’ve had so much make believe.  So much pretend.  I fell in love with the little saying that I wrote so long ago “The best thing about make believe is that it’s all pretend, even the tears in the end.” I wrote it for my Invisible Man.  You know what I think about that?  Fuck that cute little phrase and fuck him too.  I want to say that I can’t believe that after 15 months of being in someone’s pocket for everything that was going on in each others' lives that he’d just drop me.  But I can believe it.  People are selfish and stupid and while I miss talking to him, I’m sure he doesn’t give a fuck about me.  The pretty little girl is still alive and well in his head and he doesn’t need to talk to me or see me on Skype to get to her.  Enjoy.  Because I don’t miss you—I miss the idea of you.  The second you became real, you ran.  I can’t deny the reality of situations and I know that if I saw you again, I’d smile and there would be no heartbreak.  Oh the dangers of playing with little boys.  You’d think I’d have learned my lesson, but I didn’t.  I just picked another little boy who was older to love, didn’t I?  Somehow I got it in my head that maturity equated to age, so I went older.  Instead of finding someone who was better established, I found another overgrown child.  I need to understand that there are no guarantees that boys will turn into men.  You can lead them, mold them, push them, but if they don’t want to do it, they won’t.  Not for anyone.  Having kids changes some boys into men.  For others, it encourages them.  They use their children as an excuse to be selfish and noncommittal.  It’s appalling.  It’s also ridiculous.
I feel like I’m just ranting here, frustrated, and there’s no real point to any of this.  I like to think that when I write it clears my mind, not muddies the waters further.  I’m struggling so hard to wrap my mind around why I’m so angry right now and where all the frustration comes from.  Maybe I’ll try a summary to see if it crystallizes at all.  Dear exboyfriends, fuck off.  You’re the past and you should stay there.  If you haven’t talked to me in a year, there is no reason to start now.  You didn’t want me then and I don’t want you now.  Got it?  To all of you who are friends with me or dating me in some fashion, try harder or be prepared for me to get rid of you.  All of the technology in the world doesn’t replace the real thing.  Read my texts, stalk my blog, look at all the pretty pictures of me.  They’re not me.  Unless you’ve got your cheek pressed against mine, you haven’t got me, not even close.  I think it should be obvious who I have feelings for and who I don’t.  I’m tired of saying not to worry because I’m not going anywhere. I want to go somewhere.  I need someone to make a real effort to keep me who is worth me considering for the position of permanent resident in my life.  As the last man who carelessly broke my heart said “You’re smart, kind, witty, and beautiful, but any man who wants you just for sex is missing the point of who you are.” Well said, asshole, well said.  Thank you for saying what EVERY other man has said to me who was unavailable or made an excuse for not wanting to keep me, then fucking with my emotions worse than anyone in almost two years, and hiding from sight like I have the plague.  I know I can’t control how people treat me.  I don’t want to be one of those girls who can’t make plans with their friends because a guy might call and want to see her.  I won’t cry over someone breaking a date with me.  I don’t want to fight with my boyfriend or husband and have it ruin my self esteem and night.  Instead I’m going to make amazing plans with my girls to go out and have fun, not check my phone every five minutes over a man who doesn’t give a shit about me if he’s not getting a picture of my pretty backside, and celebrate the fact that I have an amazing family and friends who I love and (gasp!) actually love me and want me around.  You know what? I’m not angry anymore.  I’m going to read my gf’s quote one more time, take a deep breath, and get on with my life newly resolved to stand up for myself first and not spend so much time worrying about men who treat me like I don’t matter.  Much better.