The Gaze That Stops Time

 

There comes a moment in every man’s life where he gazes into his partner’s eyes with a longing so deep that it touches the receiver’s soul. You could even say it’s a gaze that is more than life itself, aided by the twinkling of stars that has somehow been born from the universe. You are looking at a deep galaxy of lights, where each illumination is a memory that the bearer holds dear. And suddenly, just like the quickness of the snapping of fingers, a stillness of time manifests into infinity. It is just the two of you who matter, as the noises around you mute. You both seem to be in the know, while the rest of the world ceases to exist. That gaze, the one that makes you almost feel like you know the meaning of life, morphs into something that logically you can’t comprehend, and yet emotionally understand without question. Once this realisation hits, you become very aware that your breath becomes caught up in the thickness of the air around you, making it hard to digest the intensity . It’s a rarity… but if you are lucky enough to experience it, it is likely one that you will never forget.

I have had the great pleasure of experiencing such a gaze, not once but a few times throughout my life. And with each, came a knowing that at that moment the man that was doing the gazing cared for me without question. It was reassuring, comforting and probably made me overlook other blemishes that I otherwise would have never allowed. But once the gaze materialised, all rationale would fly right out the window. It was a drug so potent and so euphoric that I stuck around in the hopes of experiencing it again. I was a girl who loved love after all. Each gaze somehow cemented my  romanticised conviction about love. As I look back on each encounter, I do so with a longing and admiration that I was fortunate to experience the amount that I did.

I remember where I was and what I was doing with each gaze. Even the one’s that were many years ago still feel like new. But I have realised that there’s definitely different variation of the ‘gaze’. There are one’s, a gushy gaze, that allow you to open up and let the person in. While other’s, a grand gaze, that make you feel like you are an admired and wanted human being. And then there’s the doozy of all gazes, a gladiator gaze, which is the one that awakens your soul. The one where you can see each other growing old together.

For me, each experience has no doubt been ingrained right down to my core and from time to time I find myself thinking about those moments. I don’t think of the men, or the relationships. I think about the feeling, about the emotions, about the senses. It comes to mind more when I lose faith in men. Or when a devastating experience knocks me back into my fortified walls. Or when a momentary overwhelming feeling of loneliness settles in. But I want to make it clear that I don’t think of these instances to reminisce on what I’ve lost, or even to do a pity party, or a woe is me chant. No! I think of them because those feelings make me happy. Happy that I actually was able to experience such a powerful emotion. Happy that even despite the uncertainties that life brings, for a brief moment I felt love in all its richness and grandeur.

The gaze is a powerful phenomenon surrounded by yearning, pheromones and enigma. It’s something that makes you feel invincible. But with this awe-inspiring power comes delirium and a susceptibility to goofiness, vulnerability and even allowing the giver of the gaze more leeway then what you ever intended. So take great care when receiving the gaze. Cherish it, adore it, and be mindful of it. The whizzing of whimsy will engulf you; revel in it. Even if I never am able to receive the gaze from another man again, at least I can look back in fondness of the ones I have had the honour of obtaining.

❤ ❤ ❤

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Love Seemed Much Simpler in My Parents and Grandparents Generation

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Does anyone else feel like things are moving too fast nowadays when it comes to dating, love and relationships in general? Or am I the only one woman island in the middle of nowhere? As I look at my parents and grandparents’ relationships I have come to the conclusion that things have become a little warped. It definitely doesn’t seem so rosy anymore and somewhere along the way there seems to have been more rules put in place to make things even more difficult.

Since when was there a playbook developed of do’s and don’ts in contacting the opposite sexes? We seem to all be floating around not really certain of where we stand anymore. Do we text them or not? Do we make the first move? Should we be swiping 100 times to the right just to make our quota for the day? Because more is obviously better, or so I’ve been told. Where has the commitment gone? Where has the adventure of getting to know someone gone? Are the only two things I have to look forward to in life is superficial dating apps and TV shows where you get naked to see if you’re attracted to them? I mean call me old fashioned but what penis is attractive? And fanny holes? Jeeeeessssuuus help me.

I’m not joking about that TV show by the way. It’s actually called ‘Naked Attraction’. Apparently in the first episode there’s a line of men put in front of a woman and they drop their pants to show off their saggy junk. You don’t see their upper body. Have we become so desensitised as a people that we don’t care anymore.

I look at my parents and think how have they stuck it out. Of course they get into fights. My mom is crazy and my dad is stubborn. But every day when my dad leaves the house he gives my mom a kiss. And then my momma gives him one back. They smile and go about their day. They talk, albeit a lot. But that’s communication. They seem committed to one another; through thick and thin. When times were rough they banded together. They worked at it. They laughed. And according to my mom they still have sex. (I just threw up). They’re in their 70’s and to be honest good for them. I just don’t think my ears have to hear things like that.

My grandparents (maternal side) were together for like 70 years until my grandpa sadly passed away. Those two used to yell at each other so much that I thought they were going to kill one another. I remember being 6 years old in New York when my grandparents came over from Greece to live with us. My grandpa (who I called Dedo) would call my Baba (grandma) stupid (the most mild of them all) and she in turn would insult him right back. However, they loved each other. They stuck it out. Baba was there through Dedo’s battle with Cancer. They kissed, (granted on very rare occasions because they were old fashioned like that) they hugged and they even cooked together. I remember them making kielbasa (type of spicy sausage) in the kitchen while singing old Macedonian songs in their house in Northern Greece. As I remember these things, trying to figure out where we all went wrong, I realised that they did not grow up with the same amount of choice that we have now. Their world was a lot smaller. They met people in person; when neighbours still talked to one another. My grandparents went to the same elementary school and got married in their teens. My parents met at a Greek church while they both happened to be studying at Ohio Wesleyan University and literally after 9-10 months my dad asked for her hand in marriage. They tied the knot in December 1968. You do the math.

Love did seem simpler then. Less choice and no internet I imagine. Previous generations didn’t have unlimited access to porn. They didn’t have the option to look at pictures online and jerk-off. Or swipe quickly through hundreds of photos in the hopes that they bettered their odds in the return. There was no Facebook, or Instagram or match.com. There was nothing. So they were able to walk up to a person and start a decent and genuine conversation. They were able to smile longingly at one another and were able to really get to know each other. And finally, they actually wanted to get married. I know right, what a weird concept. By the way I’m not saying that everyone should be married. In fact I do think it’s just a piece of paper at the end of the day. What’s important and what I’m implying is the commitment part. The working together part. The being together through happy and sad times part.

I’m tired of today’s society when it comes to love. I’m tired that men and women take things like relationships for granted. That they never fully commit because they always think something better will come along. Why? Because there’s just too much choice. People date, start relationships and still flick through Tinder, Badoo and whatever else in the hopes of finding someone better. Someone that will love them the way that they want to be loved without any compromise. Someone that will do everything. Well here’s a thought. What about communicating? Meeting in the middle? Working at something with every fibre of your being? How about, stop taking the easy road. Stop quitting. Just a thought.

I look at both the previous generations and I see an era of fighters. As I look at mine, I see shrugged shoulders and whatever faces. I see women, my friends, yearning for love and always being let down. I see men who don’t know whether they’re coming or going. In general I see a bunch of confused souls happy to live the fast paced life of just judging someone by a photo on their screen. I see a generation that’s decensitised to everything.

What will the future hold for a hopeful old school romantic such as myself? Not much I would suspect. Because I can’t bring myself to go on dating apps. Believe me, I’ve tried. But I just can’t do it. I do better with talking to people in person. You know why? Because that’s the real me. When I’m texting, trying to get to know someone, I over think my answers. I type and delete, delete and type, 300 times before I send something out. I wait in replying because one can’t seem too eager, and then have to wait ages for the other person to respond because we’ve both listened to some invisible handbook of ‘How to court someone in the 21st Century’. However, in person,  you’re the real you. You also get to see the other person’s body language. Their tells. You learn a lot about a person with watching them answer questions or how they react to something you’ve said.

Maybe I’m too much of a hopeless romantic with an over zealous streak of cynicism. Maybe I’ve been hurt on one too many occasions. Maybe I’m not willing to conform to modern day society. Maybe I’ve over romanticised the past. Or maybe I haven’t.

Maybe, maybe maybe…

Anyway, I don’t know guys, maybe I will end up being a spinster for the rest of my life and that’s that. But I do know that I’m not so sure I will get to have what my grandparents had or furthermore what my parents have…

Parents

My Parents

But here’s to hoping that not all is lost.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to succumb to Naked Attraction and watch penises for the next hour. Because that’s what these modern folks are doing nowadays right? Eeehhhh…. right. Off I go.

❤ ❤ ❤

It’s Okay, You Don’t Have To Settle…

 

Now that it’s officially summer, I’ve been seeing a lot of couples snuggling and holding sweaty hands together. Definitely more than usual. Maybe they chose the couple’s path because they wanted a partner to do fun summer things with. Or maybe they’re just tired of going to gatherings as that ‘single’ person, so they found another single person to be their indefinite plus one. Or perhaps it’s just that love is in the air and I haven’t gotten the memo.

It’s sickeningly mushy just how many gushy smiles and long enamoured gazes of adoration are strewn in front of me. It actually reminds me of ‘Bambi’. You know when all of the young animals start awakening their inner lovey-dovey syndrome? Well that’s what seems to be going on around here and to tell you the truth it’s starting to make me feel a bit queasy.

At times I feel the pressure of being single. Of being almost 33 (in 2 days, eek!) and still not have a ‘husband’ and ‘kids’. The Greek side in me is saying you’re a fucking spinster. But the other side is saying, why do you have to settle for something right now? Why do I have to feel bad about the fact that I’m single and have no interest in men. Don’t get me wrong, from time to time thoughts  of attachment swivel around my brain. Not to mention that there’s also soft porn scenarios being played out by a strong Chris Hemsworth type that will have his way with me. But those are temporary. One where the ultimate outcome would be for him to come in, take care of me for a little while and then leave. In the long run? I’m not so sure I want to, or can, settle down with a man. And I most certainly don’t want to settle in life either. I’m not sure why I’m the turtle in this race, but I am. Where the glacial pace seems to be the norm.

Settling for me means that I have accepted that life has handed me a small when I clearly wanted an extra-large. It’s knowing that my routine will be like this for the rest of my life. It’s the acceptance of servitude. And honestly, I want more.

My life right now is very much a multitude of unknowns. I don’t have anything written in stone and I kind of like that. Sure I get stressed but at least I don’t feel the mundanity of every day life. I want to try and strive for everything. I don’t want someone or something putting me in a glass box so to speak. I haven’t planned all the intricacies that people do when it comes to their outline of life. I don’t know if I will achieve any of the things I’ve set out to do. But at least I can be in my 80’s with 50 cats saying “Well at least I tried”.

Love for me is a very romanticised  concept. As much as I loath the men that I’ve been with turning my heart into shattered stone I still believe that love does exist. But I also believe that it is a very precious thing, so precious in fact that people have not been properly trained in the matter. They fling love around like a tester dummy, not caring whether bumps or bruises form. And because of this I haven’t been able to let go. I do try, but eventually people have ultimately proven me right. Whereas I desperately am trying to be proven wrong. However, despite my hang-ups on this subject I still have a Pinterest board named “If I were ever to get married, this would be the dream.

So settling is not an option for me. I don’t want to be stuck in a loveless situation, nor an unfulfilled life situation. If I find someone then they will accept me for everything that I am and for everything I am not. If life somehow turns into a routine then I will always change it.

I guess what I’m saying, is that I want to look back on my life and know without a shadow of doubt that my choices were my own. That I persevered through the unbeaten path. That even though my advances might have been small, the outcome was in a war won. That love conquered me in the most genuine of ways. I’m not striving for all the riches in the world. All I’m striving for is the idea that my life can be what I truly see it to be and nothing less! For if it were less, then that means I would have settled.

❤ ❤ ❤

The Phrase ‘Right Place, Right Time’ Has eluded Me For All My Life…

In the Right time and the right place

It’s a silly old thing, time. Isn’t it? There’s this power that it possesses for some reason. If you spend it poorly, it runs like water through a drain. If you spend it wisely, it might run like the summer months close to the north pole. Where the sunlight laces the days together and time seems to have created a wormhole of infinite length. But those scenarios can be reversed as well. Where it can speed up while having a wondrous time and then slow to a halt while you’re doing a task that you aren’t fond of. Time can be bent, skewed, thrown, stopped, pushed, delayed; manipulating it until you’ve achieved your goals. But what about the unfortunate few who have not had luck with time? Who have parted ways with missed chances or unseized opportunities because Lady Luck chose for them another fate; to not be in the ‘Right Place, Right Time’ section of life. As if you were in a constant state of ‘almosts’, but never getting any farther than that.  And it’s not like you can force it. That’s the elusiveness of it. I have felt like that about relationships. Where the circumstances have not been spot on. Or the feelings, affections, have not been right. They have been an almost, but not quite. There hasn’t been that meshing of souls. The clicking of thoughts. There seems to have always been a catch. A bent cog in an antiquated time piece. A hiccup of everlasting sharpness. I guess what I’m trying to say is that I have not been given the opportunity to relish in that happy moment of everything clicking all at once. The merging of synchronicity. So perfect in timing that we hear the atom pop.

I have tried not to say “woe is me” when it comes to the failed ventures I create with people. Reason being, I’m now realising I wanted to be with someone no matter what. I always wanted love even if the chosen one was not in the right space of time. They were either not ready, noncommittal, unrequited, had to learn to be in a relationship, liars, cheaters, thieves and whatever else that stopped them from evolving into a decent human being. I however overlooked those qualities. Why? Well, because every time was the right time for me. I wanted love EVERY time. I was ready ALL the time. But slowly I came to the conclusion that the men who were coming and going, even after years of being with me, were not in the same time zone. It was as if they were travelling a whole light year away. And to add insult to injury most would depart from me all the wiser and settle down with the next woman they met. I somehow managed to be the setter-upper. The one to take the time and patience to mould and smooth out the sharp edges.

But despite all the time that has dripped by, I was not that saddened by it. What really saddened me was when you do meet someone who sparks your interest, who treats you how you should be treated, who’s taken a shinning to you, and due to some unforeseen circumstances, you can’t pursue it any further. In these instances I always raise my head up towards the sky and scream out “whhhyyyyyy!??!!” in an overly dramatic fashion. Once the shouting is done, I curse the over zealous idiot that’s been watching over me (my fate fairy) who’s probably thinking that I should embrace, go with the flow and learn from every experience.  Sometimes I don’t want to learn from things. Or find the meaning as to why certain things happen. No! I for once want a perfectly timed ballet. Where every pointe means something. Breathing in synchronicity as we move across the stage like a silky wind. I want a perfect, right moment. Where two people meet at the right time.

What am I supposed to learn from getting to know a man who seems utterly sweet, sincere, genuine and who can’t stick around? What am I supposed to do with all of that? Thank you to the downer patrol for dangling something real in front of my face and then laughing as they slowly yank it away. What should I take from this? That I won’t be appointed a nice man for long? That there are still great men out there but I will never get to experience one? What?! What is it?! It’s cruel really. I do know that I have changed my tune towards the opposite sex because of this brief experience that I’ve had. So there, I’ve said something positive. But what if I want more? Or what if the time that I have isn’t enough? It’s just a sampling really. It’s like doing those ice cream tasters, never feeling full and never being allowed to have a second try. I want to say when enough is enough and for it not to be decided for me.

Who knows, maybe one day my fate fairy will be so kind as to plop a great man who can stick around for more than a month or two. But until then, I am learning to accept the cards that I’ve been dealt. I’m understanding that not all experiences are meant to last (even the great ones). I’m getting used to the fact that there will be certain times in your life where you will go through something because you will have to either experience an epiphany moment or gain strength after uncovering some trickery. But you know, once,  just once, I would like the heavens to smile down upon me and finally grant me my wish for something a little longer lasting.

Here’s to experiencing that right time, right place moment…

❤ ❤ ❤

 

Where Has The “Delicious Tango of Minds and Universes” Gone?

couple looking longingly at each other

My fluffy Pandas! Hope you’re all doing well.

Sunday night I was looking at my Facebook Newsfeed, partly because I was bored and mostly because I had just finished from a long weekend of firsts for me (which I will explain in another post) so I really didn’t know what to do with myself. As I was scrolling, I stumbled upon one of Juliette Lewis’ posts. Firstly can I just say that I have loved her since the 80’s and secondly I once bumped into her right off of Charing Cross Road in London. I was with my friend at the time and we were just faffing around, not really knowing what to do for the remainder of our time together. When lo and behold this petite woman walked past us. I was like “DUDE!! that’s Juliette Lewis! I love her!” We then proceeded to follow her, desperately trying not to look like one of those questionable stalkers. She was on the phone and when she saw us hovering around and staring at her like a bunch of morons she hung up and we asked for her autograph. We only had one piece of paper amongst me and my friend, so after we apologised profusely for bothering her, she signed the lonely sheet. Anyway long story short she was super nice in person which made me like her even more than what I already did.

So back to the real story, she posted something that made me want to scream YES at the top of my lungs. Not only because I agreed with it so vehemently but because I have been spouting the same thing (For example… here, here, here and here) ever since Tinder and Badoo came into existence.  Here it is before I start yapping on and on….

Juliette Lewis on dating apps

I mean right?! Like, exactly this! Every perfectly chosen word hits home with a loud bang. For me, personally, I have found it hard to conform to these dating app/online shenanigans. I tried Tinder once but hated it and Badoo was equally as disappointing. I did meet a man through the latter one who tried to “date” me but he had major issues with opening up and commitment. So that ended up becoming sex every once in a blue moon. So after that experience I got rid of the apps. I was fed up really. I was annoyed that I had to put a photo up of myself along with a short biography that no one ever reads. I hated the fact that I was being judged on photos only. What about my wit, or the twinkle in my eye, or seeing my genuine smile or hearing me laugh? These apps are missing the most important bits of you. The tiny nuances that make you, you! These frozen images that are carefully constructed to attract more views are on display 24/7. Therefore men can go through hundreds of women to help increase their probability that one or three will respond positively to them. They are not looking for the one. They are merely looking for the one right now. And then the one two days from now. And then the one 3 weeks from now. We are in the disposable era. In fact we are so quick at the process that someone invented a technique which only takes a single swipe to say you don’t like the way they look.

Whatever happened to wanting to get to know a person? As Juliette Lewis says, people don’t want to ‘deliciously tango their minds and universes’ together. To intertwine their experiences, feelings, thoughts, hopes, fears. Where is the late night deep, meaningful conversations? The laughter? The tears? Why do we want to accept this doomed world of robotic humanoids who only interact with electronic devices. Aren’t your necks fucking stiff by know? All that looking down. We are forgetting what it is to be human. To love deeply and to open your soul to another beautiful soul. I fear that in about another 10 years our younger generations will not know how to speak to another human, face to face. They will be the shielded screen generation. The mutes who probably will have evolved to possessing 12 fingers and telepathy.

Men are forgetting about chivalry and  the coy, intricate workings of the chase. And women unfortunately, are allowing themselves to be caught without a fight. Not even questioning where the wooing, courtship, romance has gone. We are accepting things as “well, that’s evolution for ya! I will jump on the bandwagon because every other woman has done so.” We as women are allowing these men to treat us as second hand products that they can swipe through to get to the shinier  newer ones. Where have our standards gone women?! Personally, at this very moment, I do not care that everyone and their mommas are on these apps. I do not enjoy them. I find texting a tedious task that only proves how cowardly people have become. I mean for example, on two separate occasions I was excommunicated  with through a Facebook  message and via a text. These men didn’t even have the balls to call me. They didn’t respect me enough as a person to give me the common courtesy of a phone call.

I want to hold onto the fact that people can still meet in a random time and place and catch the playful longing in someone’s eye across the room; which entices you to gravitate towards each other. As you start talking you might notice that they have the cutest, tiniest freckle grazing the corner of their lips. You find out they laugh with such gusto for life and they touch your arm gently to let you know they are interested. The sensations make you blush slightly. The musky yet playful air of flirtation runs rampant as they brush the hair away from your face. Then suddenly your senses get hit again. This time with a deliciously enticing scent. For a second your mind wanders as you engulf their aura. You try and lean closer. You’re interested. And as this beautiful sonata crescendos towards a gratifying peak you realise that a mere photo of this person would not have done them justice. In fact this small dance that was just exchanged was more intense than a ‘what’s up?’ through a text message. Because once you take a way the barrier of the screen from your electronic device you see a raw, unfiltered, unedited soul. What could be more beautiful than that?

I don’t want to settle for the mundane bullshit of me sitting at home flicking through random profile photos. I want to converse, laugh, play with their hair, brush past their arm gently and create a witty match of sentences as we discover all the unknowns. I want to live outside in the world and not the created one that we portray on social media. I want to be more than a frozen portrait on someone’s screen that they can swipe away as if shooing a fly.

Please for the love of rainbows, can we remember the beauty of a chance meeting? The power of in-person interaction. There really isn’t anything better than that cheeky glance at the beginning of a flirtatious encounter. Because in that moment, your world becomes infinite. It becomes real. It becomes a little more meaningful. And what can be better than that?

❤ ❤ ❤

 

When You Realise That Your Emotions Haven’t Completely Shrivelled up and died….

Love, Feelings, Emotions,

Pandas, I am officially back. Well, to be honest I came back late last Thursday night but I was not mentally prepared to start my brain until today. Yes, it took me a week. I have been a walking blob ever since I arrived in London. For those of you who don’t know where I went, it was to Cyprus, which is in the Mediterranean. My parents and other family members (from my dad’s side) live there. This was the first time in years that I decided to spend Christmas over there. To be completely honest, I have not been a fan of that country for a while now. And that was mainly because it held a very important reminder for me every time I stepped my pudgy foot back on its soil. A painful reminder of unrequited love. Or more to the point, a fake love that left me barren of any kind of emotions whatsoever. He stole them from me. Like a thief of an elaborate and unexplainable heist. Broken and tarnished, I left my country. I left because my greatest drive was to move back to London. If I didn’t have that ambition then I know I definitely would not have been here right now talking to you guys.

When I think about my love life from the past (almost) 4 years since I’ve left Cyprus, it has been quite a nonexistent affair. Penises have come and gone. Yet feelings haven’t been exchanged, nor did the stirring of emotions commence. For a while I didn’t question it. I puttered along without a care. But then I started to wonder if he who must not be named, broke me for good. I never felt anything. I would tell the one friend who actually cared to listen that something must have died. That my va-jay-jay closed up shop to reevaluate the meaning of her existence. Because let’s face it, she was not fulfilling some of her job requirements. There was simply no use for her. I was convinced that she had shrivelled up and died along with my heart. To the rest, I would of course pretend that all was fine. Only adding that I didn’t want anyone in my life. That I was happy being the hermit that I am. Which was partly true.

So after all this time had passed I just assumed that my notion of being a miserable, cold-hearted, no-feeling, unemotional, crude, lonely bitch was true and that there was no cure. Not even maybe a reversal process that I could try out.  So with that, I left for Cyprus thinking that this was how I was going to see in the new year. A controlled ball of chaos.

As I stepped off the plane into the country of my high school days, something felt different. I didn’t feel dread this time round. On previous occasions I would get nervous that I would bump into people. The kind of people who talk and gossip. But this time I felt more at peace. Maybe I was just happy leaving London for a bit, who knew.

I met up with one of my besties who would take me out to great restaurants, coffee places where we would talk about life, giggle and enjoy each others company. I started to relax more. I remembered what it felt like to have friends around. I began to feel at ease. So when she decided for me that I would come to her house gathering I said of course without getting stressed about how I looked. And on that night, because my guard was down and I was laughing and having a good time, I happened to meet someone and we ended up kissing. It was the first time in many years where the act of kissing felt normal. It felt like this person meant it. It wasn’t a fleeting moment in the hopes that his attempts would advance into my panties. It was a shared intimate moment between two unknown souls. In that moment I felt wanted, not invisible and pretty. I didn’t worry about how I looked, or my flaws or any other insecurities that I might have. I was present in that moment and that moment alone.

In what felt like an alternate universe, something stirred within me. For the first time in a long time, my insides started to unthaw and that’s when I realised that I wasn’t such a lost cause anymore. There was still life in me yet. Most likely nothing will come out of that shared moment. But I am thankful that someone revived me even if only for a short while. It was definitely nice to remember what a genuinely sincere stolen moment felt like. I don’t expect miracles after that one encounter but for a person who has been convinced that she was broken it was a nice change of pace.

As the night came to an end, we went our separate ways but not before one final connection. And with that we got into our cars and drove off.

 

❤ ❤ ❤

 

 

The Man Who Said He Wasn’t ‘Feeling It’…

I'm just not feeling it

Men still, to this day, perplex me. It’s a subject that I probably won’t be able to master in my lifetime. Sure, I might get close but in the end they (men) will inevitably do something to throw me for a loop. And oh, how it frustrates me so.

I was going to say recently, but now that my brain has started working, I realise that it’s been a while since I’ve seen a penis. So let’s just say this little story will be about the last man that has befriended my va-jay-jay.

I met a man through a dating app. He was cute, loved sci-fi, was somewhat funny, yet reserved and knew how to dress. After a couple of weeks of talking I invited him to a club where my friends and I were going to go. We met, he wasn’t a crazy and from there we proceeded to have various meet-ups of sexually inclined trysts for the six months that were to follow.

It’s funny really when I look back on it because I was questioning then. I was always wondering if this guy liked me. But for those months I never met a single one of his friends, we rarely met up to actually go anywhere and the most ridiculous part, was that he never called me. We always used to communicate by text. I mean who does that? I don’t even care that that’s what people do nowadays. I want someone to call me and pursue me. But for six months I really didn’t have any clue whether I was coming or going. I did confront him around the 4 month mark and asked if he wanted it to stay casual and he replied by saying that “I don’t do casual.” So I thought ok, maybe he does like me. But as the days turned into months, nothing had changed. Until one day I was about to pull my hair out. The thing is, my pandas I am not a needy type of gal. I won’t cling, I won’t call all the time, I won’t even bother you with loads of text messages. However, the one thing I cannot stand is not knowing where I stand with someone.

I think nowadays women are too easy. We go by what the men say. It’s almost like we get excited that someone ‘might’ be into us that we forget our self worth. And I was a stupid lady this time round. Like I am every time I’m with a man. I forget what I want and who I am. I genuinely want to slap myself sometimes. On a side note, I think that’s why I’ve stayed single for so long (this time round).

Anyway, after 6 months of the same roundabout ways I confronted him yet again. And do you know what this idiot said to me through a text message? “I’m just not feeling it.” Excuse me? You’re not feeling it? So I called him and he finally picked up the phone, which was probably the second time in six months. I repeated his own words to me. Almost like a final confirmation.  And just like that we ended something that never really had a chance to begin with.

Who text messages someone after six month of having sex with them and say that they weren’t feeling it. Because as far as I was concerned his dick was sure “feeling” it. If you are any sane human being you will know after a few dates. If anything you will probably have sex, just to see how it goes and if nothing, you move on. You don’t swing your dick around for six months and as soon as I ask a serious question of “Where is this going?” do you cower in a corner somewhere and eventually run for the hills. Anyway, that’s when I realised that I was face to face with yet another man that had a problem with getting to know someone on a deeper level. I wasn’t even asking for a commitment. A relationship, if you will. I was simply asking to connect with someone. That they at least tried a little. It was that simple.

It’s funny because after we ended it, he finally added me on Facebook, and on Instagram. And then after a few month, he started getting in contact again and proceeded with all the sexual innuendos. I’m not going to lie. We did have sex again. Oh what?! I’m only human at the end of the day. But it was clear I was simply there to put out every once in a while. I eventually told him that I had enough. Actually it was a really long text message whereupon his response was… “woah, fair enough.” And I never heard from him again. I mean it’s laughable.

I don’t know if you guys ever experienced the feeling of rejection even though you did nothing wrong, mixed with not being good enough. Well that’s what I felt like. How dare someone make me feel like that, again. Who did this guy think he was? It’s not my fault that he had problems with commitment. That he didn’t know how to communicate and delve deeper, down to someone’s soul. No, that’s all on him. And I’m okay with that. I tried, I know I did. Even if trepidation set in. I still tried.

So if a man is telling you that he’s not feeling it, simply smile, wave good bye and move on. You are all worth so much more than that. And I sure as hell need a man to be a man at the end of the day. I need him to listen, share, communicate, laugh and delve deep into my soul. If he can’t even pick up the phone to call me and be honest then he can fuck right off.

Peace, Love and Know your worth!