SOME NOTES IN THE INTERIM

A while back I started asking my, now former, long time lover why it is that women like bad boys so much. (Now, she and I have a very honest relationship and she no doubt will be reading this, so I have to be very honest.lol).

She said, “Well honey, women like the cocky, bad boy because we know he will be a good fuck.”

“Well, what about me, you tell me that I am the most incredible lover; the one that does it for you like no other? And I am a nice guy, a good man.”

“Yes. You are a good man. You are a MAN. You are in touch with yourself like never before. You changed for the better…better than a bad boy. Not a wuss at all either!” She seemed pretty emphatic. It made my desire increase so that I fucked her many more times with great relish. It helped that she is an excellent lover herself who really lets go.

I thought, “Wow! How great is that! What a nice validation and endorsement.” (I have had more than one of those) It wasn’t just because she loves me. It’s one of the reasons why she loves me even though we're not lovers now.

Then I thought about another woman who I also love with all my heart, who dreads fucking and no doubt very much wants to and would love to with great abandon and complete passion. One night, I picked her up to take her to a social gathering and got her door for her at the car. She got pissed and went into a rant about how she hated sex and how women are whores and how most men are lying, cheating bastards.

I laughed. No gentlemanly virtue appreciated here.

It’s too goddamned bad. She’s a great woman who had a horrible childhood and horrible male/female sexual interactions. So what did she do? She picked a man that lied to her and cheated on her and blamed he and the ex girlfriend (who had befriended her of course).

She’s one of the sweetest, kindest, most intelligent, and not to mention one of the most beautiful women I know…and contrary to her denials she can really love, purely, with all her heart…she could love me if she’d let herself, but she wants to relegate me to some fatherly, brotherly role…ohhhh well, I suppose there’s worse things?

After a time, I looked around me. I looked at my life. I looked at what I wanted most from my deepest source. Besides mutable immortality and invulnerability-the things that a child who is loved feels, I wanted the security of multiple progeny from several women. I wanted the power that total self love projected outward gives. I saw that I had that. I saw that I excelled in my work. I saw that my nuclear family loved me. I felt that my friends who have the capability love me-those are real friends; the rest, at the maximum are acquaintances. Beyond that I felt love and acceptance for myself. I could see that my shortcomings didn’t affect me unless I believed they would and many times not even then.

I just got off the phone with one of my best woman friends. She’s gay and what a terrible time of it she has. She’s been in love with this woman for twelve years and while there’s a deep connection, the love is so largely unrequited that it brings her nothing but frustrations and unhappiness. The object of her obsession contacts her and tells her she’s going to meet with her and rarely does, leaving her feeling empty and unfulfilled. All this comes in the face of this supposedly profound connection she has with the woman, who of course, has a live in lover at her home in Miami.

My sad friend says she wants to be in this woman’s life, that she is the nurturing one in the relationship. Meanwhile, other women show up that are interested in her and she ignores them to keep this fantasy connection alive. A connection she says the obsession says is real. What I see is a woman over fifty who is lonely and hurting and wants to be with someone, someone special.

She has a life. She has good friends. She so longs for this connection. She has told me many times that she and I should eventually live together, but I get too frustrated with her, wishing that she loved cock. Of course, she’s beautiful and so very smart and so very artistic and we love each other very much and she is such a good friend-we’ve supported each other for many years. And, she’s one of the few people I will go to a football game with-ASU vs. USC games. (I pretty much hate sports and sports fans)

Poor woman, I just want her to be happy, but she doesn’t want it.

She, like so many, believes that love is this ethereal thing, this mystical falderal shit. Not to me. Love is a verb. It’s a decision. We decide to love. Lots of it is based on our imprints about what we believe the attraction for love is. Lots of that is damaging and erroneous because we love too many times in blind trust or in delusions of romantic grandeur, or from totally unrealistic inhuman idealisms. At the optimum, even with most of the facts, love winds up another risky business, a high stakes emotional endeavor. It winds up imperfection and human-another mechanism to insure perpetuation of the species.