A Life in Ink: (Intro)

•January 28, 2015 • Leave a Comment

All stories begin- and I’m sure all stories begin on napkins or scraps of paper on nights where grief is imminent- and I have to think,  “what makes my story so different?” Well… I’m hoping that my story (the one I’ve been living, breathing, and writing my entire life) will end differently than it began. I wish my story would have a happy ending or at minimum a happy resolution that provides some promise that life is worth the pain incurred as an incidental.

I’ve always tried to live my life as if the past didn’t matter, regardless of if it did. People see you deep in thought- walk by and ask you how you are, and you consider yourself the world’s best liar when you answer both friends and foes alike with “I’m good, how are you?”- because honestly it’s just something I say in denial.

And that’s not to say that I’ve never had good moments- I have… I have just been forced to come to some sort of realization this past week as to the depth of trauma I’ve been hiding from. You put on a big smile, convince yourself that no one cares, and turn and walk away…  with someone like me, it is always hard to not feel alone, even when you know you’re not.

Writing always has been my best form of self help and therapy, but often I riddle my feelings in poetry- thought provoking hints at what lies beneath the surface.

It is never until the tears run down my face and my body is taken over by grief- it is never until the dam breaks that I understand that I am feeling something. It must be some sort of psychological defense mechanism that says it’s time to deal with a certain issues.

Pain is pain, and no one person feels it more- or to any less of a degree than anyone else. It sucks all around; for all of us.  Some people are just better at hiding their troubles than others, and some are better at surviving it. If you find that you are a person that is free from pain, consider yourself well- it’s a life many of us dream of living.

The evidence on my hard drive suggests that this story should have been completed and published long ago, but I suppose it couldn’t have been started or completed until now… and even now, it’s going to creep. I’ve got to allow the words to come out, edit them, and piece together years of history stored away in my files.

Maybe Humpty Dumpty can put herself back together again after all.

Friends have suggested that during this time I try and put my feelings into art, writing, music and poetry. The death of my father and our estranged relationship has shaken me to the core of my beliefs and existence. I thought I could live in denial and just move on, but in these slow days before my journey back to Virginia begins, I realize I cannot just put myself on auto pilot any longer. Both of my parents are gone now, and both of them died without my ever having truly forgiven them… the violence, the fear, abuse and neglect can now be examined, grieved and with any hope, forgiven.

And this is where my story begins….

Bladed Intimacy

•January 12, 2015 • Leave a Comment

bladed

©Karen Anne Cate, 2015.  All Rights Reserved. Photo courtesy of Richard Grillotti.

{Lo+ Ve +Se X – (My+ Th)} Yields [?]

•October 16, 2014 • Leave a Comment

Love plus Sex minus Myth is a complex equation.  Now add in a dash of intellect and an unknown variable like spirituality- and what do you have?

A damn good question….

If the chemistry involved in dating (and human relations) was anything like the course you take in high school, I would have already been dead long ago from having over indulged in what resulted in my being completely oversexed… because goodness knows I would have aced the course- or died trying.  I haven’t decided yet whether this is a good thing or a bad thing.

I am not simply talking about sexual chemistry either- (although we are going to take a dash of it and throw a little bit of it everywhere to finish out this love tome) because the blend of chemistry it takes to make a spark between people is varied at best. You never know when or what’s going to ignite, and you also never know when it’s going to blow up in your face.

The best advice anyone could give someone who is searching for the right recipe for human relations is this:

Know what you are made of, know what you are mixing with, and what you aren’t. Explore, experiment, take notes, and make adjustments as needed. Be prepared for gains and losses, set backs and delays. Always strive for the best, but know when excellence is par and when to stop fucking with it.

That will probably take you further than the aged and cliched “if you can’t take the heat, then stay out of the kitchen” approach.

So far, in my own experimentation, I’ve identified 4 distinct parts of my complexity that I would preferably like to mix covalently with another human.  For myself it’s more than just an emotional bond or a sexual one, there’s also the intellectual and spiritual bonds as well.  Consider me the atomic heart with 4 electrons to share.

We’ve already discovered that I’m magnetically attracted to the magnanimous aspects of a man- perhaps because they are so optimistic, and I am so pessimistic- they are so forgiving, and me being relentlessly unforgiving. (opposites attract right?)  I know that there is strong reaction there that seemingly requires no effort at all on a friendly level- in fact it can be rather complimentary.

However; you usually find me trying to find a way to solidify a sexual bond with them- I mean COME ON! Who wouldn’t right?  (Give a girl a break already!)  It sucks for ME, but I have found that the atomic structure of the magnanimous man alone seems to repel my other charges, thus creating a space that we can exist in harmoniously- intellectually, emotionally, and perhaps even spiritually, but in the end, not the type of bond this atomic heart can completely electrify with. (Boo Hiss).

Strikingly, and painfully, but blissfully have I come to know these boundaries. (I’ve got wicked negotiation skills, but apparently theirs are even better) All for the better, because I love seeing the magnanimous men in my life burst with a happiness of mythic proportion- and live lives that truly have to be witnessed to be believed.  Not saying that their lives are perfect by any means (perfection is only learned from), but amazing nonetheless.

Besides, I grew up with them, so I’ve had plenty of time to lick my wounds, realize their gentle rejections were for the better, an ample amount of time to grow up and define my identity- and become a woman.  The emotional maturity they represented and inspired in me is quite crucial to my structural makeup… especially in terms of sharing bonds.

{Flashback to a time when I had a little spark with the magnanimous type oh so long ago: I worked at a pizza parlor that was riddled with all sorts of attractive and yet wanting men.  There was one I got along with really well- Mr. Scorpio Divine.  He and I used to pal around together and experienced quite the intellectual spark.  We became friends rather quickly.  One too many nights of drinking together led to an innocent morning of watching the sun rise over the ocean.

Then, as the sun came up, he quite unexpectedly kissed me.  One kiss led to another and suddenly it was feeling not so innocent after all.  But in the midst of the throes of burgeoning passion he stopped himself (and it was getting rather steamy), took a moment to shake it off in quick silence, then turned to me and said, “I can’t do this to you… can’t you see you aren’t worth this? You deserve better. We are BOTH drunk, obviously sexually attracted to each other, and we are going to make a mistake, that I know is a mistake, and YOU are someone I respect deeply enough to not hurt- I cannot use you and throw you away”.

Being that I was shocked out of my shoes, but still not impervious to that damn charm of his, I was okay with that- confused for sure- but at least he had the decency to explain that particular torment.  He made me promise it would never effect the way we felt about each other and that one day I would understand.  It never did bother me, because of his honesty- we always remained friends.

Years later, a girl (an ex coworker of ours) that had a thing for this particular Scorpio man- (unbeknownst to me of course)- made it a point to stop by where I was working to update me on his situation.  With a smug smile and a dash of sparkle in her eyes, she informed me that the Scorpio man was indeed engaged and getting married.  Not to her of course, (misery loves company) but I guess as a small victory to her, not to his gal pal Karen either.  (Calm down chick, it was never in the cards for that to happen anyway- if only she had the capability of understanding what her eyes DIDN’T see).

I was happy to hear it- I felt he deserved to be happy.  Mr. Scorpio Divine on the other hand, was pissed as hell when word got around that she told me, and came directly to see me.  (Man it was amazing how many people you can find at a Dairy Queen counter in the mall that weren’t there for the ice cream).  Upon getting my attention he asked me if I wouldn’t mind spending my break time with him and that he wanted to talk.

Turned out that the reason he was so pissed was because he wanted to come and tell me himself… she just beat him to the punch.  Being that we were so close he felt it was important that I knew a few things before he committed to the woman he was in love with.

In that last 20 minutes that I saw him, he managed to tell me, that HE wanted to be the one to tell me, to make sure that things were alright between us, and that he had my blessing. He reminded me that he meant what he said that morning on the beach, and that if I never remembered anything about him, to never forget that.  He knew he would exit my life at that point, but not without first reinforcing his belief that I should be loved and cared for by a man that was willing to put my needs before his own, and to accept nothing less… and most of all, that he would always have a little fire for me in his heart for what may have been.}

**Note to the Chemist: She’s really not a bad atom. She’s shown attraction to both stable and non stable men, but isn’t quite cohesive with either one just yet. Like the ID that is her sexuality, now let us experiment a little further with her EGO.**

The Magnanimous Man Vs. The Monogamous Man: Part 2

•October 14, 2014 • Leave a Comment

Magnanimous:  Noble in mind; high-souled; esp., generous in overlooking injury or insult; rising above pettiness or meanness.

Platonic: designating or of a relationship, or love, between a man and a woman that is purely spiritual or intellectual and without sexual activity.


I refuse to say that being in any type of relationship with the magnanimous type is ever easy- especially when it comes to the platonic part- it wasn’t for me- but there is a very unique power there.  The power contained within said structure, is a different kind of love altogether- one you don’t bargain for in any male female dynamic- a little something this little girl discovered in womanhood- known as altruism.

My dating dilemma is a paradox.  It truly is.  Time and time again the question always arises; how is it that I get along so well with my guy friends, can be openly affectionate and love them, know how to handle a wide variety of men- and yet still be so unforgiving in matters of intimacy?

It could be that I haven’t found everything I was looking for in one man alone- hence my aversion to an end all be all monogamous relationship- or it may just simply be that I am afraid.  There I said it.  I fear intimacy because of the let down of an anticipated end result.

For me, it’s just a lot less messy to keep things friendly- even if there are sex and feelings involved; if I am going to surrender myself to a mortal man, they are going to have to have the ability to set in motion something in me that resets all former precedents.  Are my expectations a little lofty?  I’d say so, but why, at this point in my life, should I settle for second best?  I’ve already done that enough.

One of my guy friends, who has been a pretty loyal reader of mine for close to a decade now, who is actually someone I’ve come to respect quite a bit- as he and I can share notions and our takes on dating, men and women, from just about every angle you can think of- sent me a very nice email the other day- and what hit me the most was that he caught on to something I hadn’t been willing to admit.

I’ve disconnected myself from loving men… all the while loving men- and yes this is very true (score one for my friend)- and perhaps always has been.

Even back in the days when I was supposed to be a “little girl”, I was never really one of the girls, I’ve always felt like one of the guys, because I always got along with them better.  It’s not I didn’t get along with any girls, I did eventually, but I’ll still take hanging out with a guy friend over a jealous woman any day of the week.

So it’s a Catch 22.  I never noticed if I was cute, or sexually appealing- in fact I still don’t.  I just can’t bring myself to think of myself in that way.  I don’t expect that when I go out I am going to meet someone, and I damn sure don’t expect that any guy I talk to is going to want to go home with me, although I will admit I find myself sometimes surprised when they want to.

I always saw myself as some sort of ugly duckling waiting to bloom.  It wasn’t until I had a jealous woman rage at me one day that I realized I had to stop thinking that way.  She said, “yes we ALL KNOW you think of yourself as one of the guys, and they you think are one of them too because you play guitar and are into music, but it’s time you take a good look at yourself and realize YOU ARE NOT one of the GUYS!”.

So it dawns on me a little later in life that there is something I was born with that makes monogamous men not so… monogamous.  Somehow or other- or so it’s thought of me– that I have this power to steal a man’s magnanimity and make them selfishly stupid and with a hard on.  Is that me?  OR is it perhaps THEM?  That is always the question I pose back to women who have found me the contemptuous part of their insecurities with their “monogamous relationship”.

A magnanimous man isn’t going to be swayed from being dedicated and loyal from the woman he feels fire for because of a little cleavage and a whole lot of opportunity.  That’s one of the qualities that differentiates between the two types of men.  One can be led astray- not to say that he would, but he most certainly could (and if he does that’s a separate ball of wax altogether), but the other wouldn’t even be thinking about it because he had better things to do- or he found the right relationship that allowed him to be what he needed to be- and issues of infidelity don’t exist…

I know this because I’ve flipped my shit over more than one magnanimous man in my lifetime.  This woman, after knowing up close and personal what the “wrong” man is like, can spot a bird with brilliant feathers a mile away, and I’ve always been drawn to it- only to learn oh so delicately that the bird could never be mine, because it wasn’t that they didn’t love me, it just wasn’t the right time… for me.

They understood that I didn’t understand what it was like to be in a healthy relationship with anyone; nor did I know that you could have feelings for someone that share all the same properties as romantic love, just minus the sex (and vice versa).  They knew I was confusing the two.

These guys, as close was we’ve been, as close as we are, have always known this about me.  Always best to laugh and cry together than to ever have to disappoint a woman you respect, believe in, or think that highly of- and end up being the ire of her tears because you acted on baser instincts, knowing fully well that she wasn’t the one for you, nor you for her- because the relationship you share was never meant to be that.

That kind of man, standing near the flaming heat and sex appeal of a woman that other women love to put their sexual insecurity shit off on- that kind of man- the one that can resist furthering that type of closeness and intimacy with a female who is dear to them… that ladies and gentle- and not so gentle men- is something that the expectation of monogamy is no substitute for.

That’s the type you willingly crown your king and commit to.

Note to self: recognize the man who is strong enough to withstand the heat of your own flames of sexual self destruction and desire, who has a keen enough perception of you to save the both of you from yourself and proceed to the next step.

Now add chemistry….

The Magnanimous Man Vs. The Monogamous Man: Part 1

•October 14, 2014 • Leave a Comment

By now you read through just about all the different types of men I have had casual rendezvous with, frequented (wink), or seen on a regular basis; the mean man, the shitty man, the jealous man, the loose man (let’s face it), the lying man, etcetera etcetera. Believe me the list goes on…

However, the one type of man that you rarely hear me speak about is the “magnanimous” man. This type of man is not to be confused with the “monogamous” man, because every man at least holds the potential to be monogamous, but how many of them are truly magnanimous or strive to be?

Of all the bad encounters I’ve experienced with men, I can at least say that nature had a way of balancing those acts with the other type of man that I found generously spread throughout my life… the magnanimous man- with which I have very influential and deeply profound platonic relationships with. I’m sure even Plato himself would have to be impressed; although it might leave Freud a little confused.

Not to say that there isn’t merit with Freud’s philosophies and approach to the whole father figure archetype… there is.  I just didn’t find benevolence, learning, love and trust from the man who is ideally supposed to instill this in a woman… in fact, the exact opposite happened.  I also didn’t learn this through nature versus nurture.  I found these lessons scattered among a plethora of the drive through relationships that constituted a consume and learn as you go kind of tirade.

If you were a girl and grew up for even a fraction of the time I was exposed to life with my father, you’d be lucky if you liked men at all and weren’t completely terrified of them by age 4.  My father was violent- and that is to put it nicely.  There was really not much you could find in the realm of his emotional confusion and physically violent outrages that one could find comfort in.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. When you watch a man beat a woman the way my father beat my mother- with your own impressionable eyes, to the point where she had to be sequestered from her own children because of the condition he left her in, you emerge confused and broken, not ever truly understanding what this so called “love mechanism” is that we all have inside us.

I will admit that the first impressions of daddy dearest left a strong hold on me.  I’ve carried a chip on my shoulder my entire life just waiting for a guy to make the wrong move… because I guess then I could take out all the pent up rage and aggression I feel toward my father out on a worthy candidate.  Maybe then I could prove to myself that I would never have to be vulnerable or fall victim to any man who thought they had power or leverage over me.

Love didn’t come in a much different form from my mother either.  Physical abuse for me didn’t stop for me until I was right around age 12, and the emotional abuse that I didn’t recognize continued for many years to follow- and well into adulthood.  Physical abuse is easily recognizable, but emotional abuse in comparison seems like nothing, and you hardly even realize it is there at all- but it can be just as much of a killer…

The day you go off of emotional autopilot and realize that feeling something else is better than feeling all the negativity and pain you are suffering from, is surely the day you will take at minimum one step forward feeling real love, and understanding what that entails.

Basically, the bottom line of my even delving into that dark emotional remnant of my past, was just to say that I woke up one day and realized I was no different than my mother and my father.  The contrast being that I was not inflicting physical pain on others as a means of alleviating my own pain, but excising my emotional pain and taking it out on those I chose to be intimate with.  That was the day I made a call to a friend, did not pass go, did not collect 200 dollars and went straight to therapy.

I went because I decided that it was just simply time to learn how to constructively not let my emotional past dictate my emotional future. If it weren’t for that time I spent in psychotherapy, I may have never realized the disconnection I experienced between love and sex, nor could I have ever appreciated the love that I already had- because I chose to believe that healthy love didn’t exist- neither with nor without sex; completely overlooking and dismissing the obvious “sell” to any good relationship- the basis of trust- I already had it- I just needed to identify it in the emotional mess I was surrounded in.

Thinking back I realized that I had experienced a valued kind of trust and love- not from my father- but in these special guy friends I had that always found a way to protect me from my own mind- my own circumstances- and the ways I found to punish myself.  These men found a way into my heart and made me understand that what I had experienced growing up was just not normal- and always tried to gently lead me on the right path- and quite frankly- put up with every bit of shit I ever gave them- and that’s no easy feat coming from this gal.

These were the men that inspired me and were strong enough to withstand my sex appeal- my hatred toward men- my downright shitty and pessimistic attitude- and it was through these relationships that I was able to discover a different type of man… the magnanimous one.

And I’m very proud to say that they are still a part of my life today…

Adventures in Dating Vol. 5: Shake, Break or Make?

•October 10, 2014 • Leave a Comment

The night I realized I had more trust and intimacy issues came in late-August. I was perched upon a backless barstool when a good friend of mine took me by surprise. He wrapped his arms around me to give me a hug, but instead locked down my arms to my side (so I had no reach) and while admist the bear hug he deliberately dipped me backwards (like you would dip someone when you dance).

All in good fun mind you, and completely intended to knock the person on the receiving end of the hug off their center.   I had just witnessed him hug our other friend the same way and she handled it way better than I did- I wasn’t sure when she yelped what it was all about, but as soon as I realized I had no control I did more than just yelp… let’s put it this way, I am sure everyone around us noticed.

As soon as he laughed and returned me to my normal equilibrium- safely back where we began, I realized I had more issues when it came to trust and control than I was ever willing to give myself credit for before that moment. I mean, this is a friend of mine, who I know in the deepest parts of my heart would NEVER ever hurt me.

This is type of man that would defend my honor- A man I feel completely safe with- who you will often find me seated next to, a man who will let me rest my head on his shoulder if I am down and know that I just need a moment. He’s a great guy and an even better friend.

He dips me a few inches when I am not expecting it, and I freak the fuck out. I was so rattled by not having control and having to actually trust someone– that for a few fleeting seconds I actually got pissed! Oh he got me… and he got me good.

As far as women go, I am just not easily shaken. Most of my guy friends know to keep a safe distance out of sheer fear… But he smiled, and he looked at me and laughed, and all I could I spit out when I looked at him was “oh my fucking god have I got issues.. major trust issues!”  Score one for him, because he made me realize more than he ever intended.  I am rarely vulnerable.

It is a little ironic that I am way more comfortable and approachable with my guy friends than men I am intimate with. My guy friends get away with way more shit than I would take from your average bear.  I can do this is because there is never any fear there… no lines that can be crossed, no intimate moments that will cause some strange awkwardness between us- and god knows we talk about everything; not to mention we get extremely wasted together and act like assholes.

So how is it that I can have the depth of a healthy relationship with my guy friends, and not with a man I’ve just been naked and making strange noises with? It’s not like it is going to get any weirder than THAT! What is it about intimacy that drives people away from each other? To where they can be so close, lose time with each other, and then drift so quickly apart?

I try to make it a logical thing in my mind that things don’t change after sex… and I put into practice as much as I can- but it doesn’t feel logical. For me it’s like suddenly there is something more that needs to discussed. What needs to be discussed? Fuck if I know. An invisible fortress of disbelief surrounds me- and I have to wonder what’s next.  See that’s what I am not good at… what’s next?

I know this isn’t just a “me” thing. Plenty of people experience this kind of withdrawal- but I guess the difference is how we choose to deal with it. When I was younger it was a breeze to walk away- not because there was always going to be something else going on with the next person, but because I didn’t have my emotional state of mind entangled with my sexual senses.

I have journals that go all the way back to when I lost my virginity. I’ve been reviewing these as of late just to take a good look at my behavioral patterns so I can make adjustments, cause lord knows I need one.. especially an attitude adjustment. My guy friends tell me I am bit “uptight”… and apparently only when it comes to sex and my spirituality.

I’ve always been the kind of girl that was much too honest, and way too good at negotiations when it came to sex. My first boyfriend was a bit bashful- really liked me, but was slow to make a move.  So who did I opt to have my first kiss with? The freaking horny boy who could have cared less, and who apparently made all the rounds with the girls.

Where’s that father figure when you need him? You know…the one that tells you that nice guys may be a bit shy, as they are uneasy too, and it’s not just boys are this way and girls are that way- but we often are feeling the very same things?  Feelings are feelings, and there is a healthy way to go about dealing with them, not to mention the important care it takes to make an expression of affection or emotion… because these are the things we often don’t say…

I am an adult now (or so I think)- but here I am making the same mistakes- even after I learned how to make the love and the sex intertwine. Needless to say on my last rampage of self destruction I tried my hardest to rip the healthy seams I made apart- only to be extreme again- hot or cold… and right about now I am feeling rather icy…

I meet shitty men- hell I date them- and often end in up in bed with them, but I tell you what.. I’ve also met some amazing men- and somehow I don’t end up in bed with them.  Those guys tend to make up the flock of men that have become very influential in my life- men who have made me a better woman… and with my bitterness toward men, for me to say that is a very big deal. I have to ask myself why it is that I am much better friends with a man than I am as a lover…

I can’t say after this year that relationships and dating are just about sex… I will admit that sex is a loaded gun in any given relationship- but how often are we forgetting the other parts that make a great relationship in lieu of some end sexual point that we feel is going to make us or break us?

Adventures in Dating Vol. 4: Knowing the Things We Will Never Do Again

•October 7, 2014 • Leave a Comment

There was a guy I dated briefly that I lovingly nicknamed Lucifer. You would have thought for sure I was dating Satan himself… boy do I know how to pick a different breed of liar! (That seems to be a common thread in my botched relationships- but more on that later) I’ve already written the Lucifer chronicles, so I’m not delving back into all that (well not just yet, I’ll bury it in the realms along with everything else no one will find)- I will just say this: never date someone that will simply consume your soul.

Love in moderation folks, because there is a level that you can go to that you just don’t want to.  I’ve been there, it sucks, and it will bleed the life out of you. Identify the unhealthy emotional behavior, get a degree in it, and walk on.

I thought the fights I had in my 8 year relationship were bad (cause jesus shit they were NASTY at times- can you say foul ball??)- but that had NOTHING on this one; I didn’t call him Lucifer because it was any kind of evil I had ever encountered before.  He earned that fucking title. Be nice to that kind of evil, and even WARY of it… but don’t date it; and god forbid don’t ever have sex with it.

That outfit was gone in a flash. Evil didn’t suit me well- in fact, it BURNED!! I’ll admit to being fucked up, but holy hell I am not that fucked up. That was like some embarrassing drunk outfit that you thought you felt good in… (because you obviously were obliterated and weren’t thinking)- you woke up the next day looked in the mirror and saw a clown staring back at you… or a jackass… you take your pick.

So my lessons learned here were a lot about what NEVER to do in a relationship… not ever again… you can’t save everyone- and there are some people I realize that I just can’t love.  Things get to a point, and you just have to walk away, you know why? Because some things just aren’t going change…

I established strict boundaries after my Luciferian experience:

The first thing any man (as differentiated from a man-child)  is going to want to know about me when considering dancing the mating dance with me is that I am FELINE… I am not a fucking dog; and if you want someone to sit in your face all day long (and all night)- FOR DAYS ON END- and look at you and listen to you, well then.. get a dog.  But I don’t even think a dog is going to put up with an overblown god complex that simply makes you want to run off a cliff. My god intellectualism is a two way conversation! I’m not the kind of woman you can talk down to; or bore me with how much better than me you are.

I am the type of girl who is going to love spending time with a guy I like, but let’s make it count you know?  We are both going to have to live and work, eat shit and breathe, so it should only be fair that we spend a healthy amount of time together, as well as away.  If I am going to want to be with you, I would like it to be because I want to be.. not because I have to be… or need to be… and I would want someone else to enjoy that kind of freedom as well.

The second thing is there are reasons I hate my phone… there are reasons I hate the sound of my phone ringing repeatedly- LEAVE A MESSAGE. My phone is NOT a leash.  I want to hear from you and I want you to like me, but not that fucking much.  Let me go home. Let me shower, let me do girl things and no I am sorry that I can’t be with you every waking moment of the day- or run to your beck and call when you snap your fingers… Never torture me by phone, and if we are having a phone conversation, it should be pleasant- and not to occupy my time to keep me from doing the things I have to…

This is also why I try not to over-text guys and even contemplate sending one to begin with… I want you to know I like you, but I’ve got bad mojo when it comes to the phone, so I’d much prefer if you took the lead.  As long as you are communicating intelligibly, I will respond.  If I call you, or text you, consider it a real compliment.

Believe me, if you are involved in any decent sort of relationship with me, I will usually always take your call, or return your messages, you won’t be wondering where I am- we’ve gone digital- and my profession requires the social media, so I’m not THAT hard to find.

I’d prefer a well formulated email over anything anyhow. I’m a writer with an adept attention span. (I write novels, and if you don’t like reading them, or writing them, it’s going to be a problem). The only reason I still have the phone I do is because it was a gift from my friends that felt it unreasonable that I should be so out of touch (I torched the one previous to this one and I was determined to not replace it)- but alas the relationships I have with my friends had to win out over that ire.

Third thing: I also learned that I can’t date a guy with a low libido- but that’s to say we even make it that far these days- there are requirements before that can even be considered.  No more men with low libidos… and don’t think you can fool me either- from what I understand, from many couples who are still as passionate as they were the day they met, there are certain fundamentals that set a relationship ablaze that rarely falter… and if you aren’t feeling it- or I’m not, we won’t get there… (a kiss can be telling of everything and nothing at the same time).

If you are a man that wants to date me and you don’t take your sex life seriously, well you know what..?  Neither will I.  I’ve had enough BAD sex in my life to prefer NO sex to anymore bad sex. Do not take the nymph from the box if you are not prepared to handle her properly. That is something that pisses me off more than anything. If a one time thing is what you want… and maybe I am in the mood for it, or perhaps just don’t give a fuck at that moment- be prepared to be honest (goodness knows I WILL), because lastly the next biggest thing I don’t ever want to have in my life again is a dishonest lying human.

I take great measures to not lie to men… not even when I meet them, not even if I think I can get away with it. It’s just not a trait that I respect at all.  I’d much rather know up front what’s going on intently in your noggin ahead of time- even if it hurts and makes me burst in tears, at least I wouldn’t feel betrayed by your actions.  Don’t attempt to have sex with a psychic and think she’s not going to feel deception when she touches you. If you are going to lie to me, well then honey, I’m not the kind of woman you want to get involved with.  Lie to me, and Pluto will seem like the Sahara Desert.

This is just a few of the reasons that dating is so complicated for me. It’s not that I want to marry you, I may not even want to have sex with you, nor do I expect that you are going to feel that way about me, but hell, if there is an inkling of interest there, communication, HONEST communication is going to be the foundation of everything.  If we can’t communicate, then there is nothing we will ever be… not friends, not lovers, not anything.

Because after all this year was about trying new things on…

After almost a full year on this dating experiment, I am pretty much ready to consider myself “Pure Grade A Un-date-able”.  Only because I’ve had to think about so much of where I was, what I’ve been though, and all that’s still left there to learn. This novel is only half finished.  Attempting to date is the biggest bullshit game I’ve ever played with myself.

Like I said, when it rained- it poured, and it still is.  I’m just now beginning to understand who I’ve become… the reasons why, and sadly it only partly has to do with my choice in men, the other part is all me… because after you identified what you don’t want-  you know what you do, and when that person arrives … were we ever really ready for them to begin with?  Or do we just think we are?