Saturday, June 7, 2008

An Afterthought

"Intoxicated" is a consistently good time for me to begin things. I began two relationships lit off my buttocks, more than my share of academic projects, university applications, even several birthday parties: beginning a first blog post isn't a far stretch.

I began this project first entirely as a means to organize many of my daydreams, something I tend to do more often than pay attention to reality. My thought was "if I could just jot down what I dream of, maybe I'll stop doing it". Daydreaming isn't a blessing, it isn't an outburst of creativity or imagination: it's a distraction I don't need on an hourly basis. It's something I wish could stop. I rarely have control over where my daydreams tend to lead, or when they stop or begin.

However, something else entirely has bothered me considerably enough to post of it. I've recently (not recently) been escaped (against my will) from a relationship (that I've loved). Rather than complaining incessantly (I DO have testicles after all), I would rather point out a consistent feature in all my relationships: all promiscuous, recurring sexual, and exclusive.

Since a very early age (very), I've been a person sought after for every kind of intimacy available. In no way is this a bragging right: I'm disgusted by my sexual past. However, in all my relationships, I've been the one approached, rather than the suitor. I have, only once, approached a woman: this ended in spectacular failure. Imagine a toddler wooing a well endowed 20-something tramp, and asking for obscene, wild sex. That's how bad it was. My point is: I've never needed the courage to really take a chance in a relationship. I've been handed, consistently, all I've ever wanted on a silver platter. I hate this.

In my 'promiscuous' phase, the women I would be with would immediately, after the night or after the sex, obtain my number, my e-mail, my contact information, anything they could get their heads around in order to see me again. These women would fast turn into recurring people in my life, pathetic people, worthless people that I'd confide in, depend on for my confidence and self-esteem. However, once they've been in the "recurring sexual" phase, they immediately want to go farther. I used to be a person who couldn't deal with "farther": I would break contact, and never see them again. I never trusted (rightly) any of these women to have the capacity to handle me in a relationship. They were liars, they were cheaters, they were the bottom rungs of personalities, and they were the people i put my faith in to make me feel good.

It didn't take long for me to 'ascend' to the relationship level. I grew out of my promiscuity, and fast turned to a "relationship whore". Many of my friends know when this change happened. Suffice with: it was sudden. Quite literally an overnight change. However, the only change I really experienced (in hindsight) was the type of relationship I was seeking, not the manner in which i treated them. I still was very, very sexual; I still relied my personal confidence on the other; and I still was very, very distrusting.

I have refused again and again my fault in my relationships. It has always been insanity on the other, carelessness, worthless personalities and morals. I've been cheated on, I've been thrown aside for other men, I've been lied to in every relationship I've had--my only request of any person, never lie to me. I have denied all of their mistakes to have been a direct result of my fault most probably to save my own dignity and pride.

My friends insist nothing has been my failing. Eventually however, I need to face the one recurring factor in everything I've known to be wrong in my relationships: me.

Most currently, I'm chasing a female who more than likely will set me aside for another. She knows me, through our conversations, exceptionally well. I'm afraid my experience with her has only added to my prior conclusion: it really is my fault.

Then again, I'm comfortable in my astronomical self-confidence. I may decide not to doubt myself.

1 comment:

Phaedron Rising said...

Bertrand Russell put it better than I ever could:

Of all forms of caution, caution in love is perhaps the most fatal to true happiness.

Sure beats that insipid "better to have loved and lost" crap.

Take my word for it, Nez; love's a bitch, but it's all we've got.