Addiction

I was listening to an interview Terry Gross did with the author of The Compass of Pleasure: How Our Brains Make Fatty Foods, Orgasm, Exercise, Marijuana, Generosity, Vodka, Learning, and Gambling Feel So Good and I was checking e-mails. 94 e-mails from CollarMe guys in a day and a half, and honestly, the vast majority, seem like good men. (A lot of them were from a couple of guys). Too many are far away, but there seem, for the most part, to be good men that are writing me. (There are a lot of, in my definition, not good guys, but they, at least at the moment, aren't bothering with me.)

But there is an element of addition there.

The author of the book was talking about why tobacco was so addictive, more so than heroin, because it is just a little pleasure every time, but it is consistent. And I have to say, a little bit of male attention, it is a consistent pleasure. I LOVED having lots of attention from one man. And if David's life weren't falling apart, or if he had been able to maintain communication, then I think I really could have loved him. But it did and he couldn't.

So how to keep it in balance? I don't know. There's 4 guys I've started talking to since yesterday that I'm quite interested in, and a 5th guy who seems like a decent man, who is interested in me, but whom I find myself less interested in (mostly because, I'm not proud to say, of snobby class reasons) although we'll keep chatting on line and see if we like each other on the phone.

But immediately, I can feel my life centering more around the internet. Which is probably healthier than centering around drinking in bars each night.

We humans are just really elaborate birds. We paint, and pluck, and shave and shine, and gloss and glue, all in an attempt to have bright plumage.

I used to be a sparrow and now I'm more like a heron. I'd like to be seen as a peacock, but I just don't cut it. But I'm finally having fun as a heron. I'm loving the attention. It feeds part of me. Intellectually, I don't approve. Intellectually, I wanted a man to love me for only my mind and soul. But that didn't work. And, honestly, there's enough of my mind and soul there--I'm not just flashing a photo of my tits for attention. I actually am quite proud of the little profile I've crafted.

But as we humans live more and more in front of glowing rectangles, what exactly is the healthy balance?

Blue

I broke up with David this morning. Via e-mail. But he didn't call last night, when he said he would, and I knew he was going into jail today and would be gone for 90 days. He didn't read the e-mail, but it basically said that if he got in touch with me, I would come visit, and be there for him. But he was doing triage, and I wasn't a priority (and didn't think I should be), but I couldn't not see other people for 3 months, but I hoped we could get back together when he gets out.

And then I reactivated my on-line profiles, went to the gym, and cried my little eyes out in the locker-room.

So there it is. I loved him. And maybe I will in the future. But I couldn't just wait for 3 months, without at least talking about it, and being told when I could visit and all that stuff. I would rather be honest and open with him, than go behind his back. But I really hate this situation that he put me in!!

But I notice that the on-line dating world makes me a little frantic and less grounded. Even having profiles back up for a few hours changes my energy. I want to prove myself. To be chosen.

Priorities

I was talking with a very dear friend about David, and she, of course, thinks I should be sensible and get out. She even thought that when I told her it was the first time in my life that I was with the guy I was fooling around with, rather than having my head off in fantasy books for at least some of the time (and usually it is most of the time).

Here's the thing, though. She's been with the same guy for 4 (four) years. And she says the sex is blah. Boring. Lousy. She thinks that 'bad' guys are good in bed and nice men are lousy and you just have to compromise. And she really loves her boyfriend and says they are compatible on so many things.

I was absolutely stunned. I can imagine compromising on a lot of things, but I can't imagine making a commitment to someone to never have sex with anyone else and the sex being really lousy. I just can't.

I think I have a higher libido than most women. I think my ideal would be sex 9 times a week. Intensive, rough, demanding, narrative sex 6 nights a week (figuring life would get in the way at least once a week, and it should be fun, and not another item on a check list); lazy, soft, gentle morning sex on the weekends and a spontaneous quickie once a week.

And I think my best friend thinks once or twice a month is about right. So I guess it makes sense that she and I would take different points on this.

It did make me wonder if I should prioritize sexual compatibly so high. But I honestly cannot imagine not making it a priority. I just can't. It would be like only eating unseasoned tofu for the rest of my life because it was good for me, and I shouldn't enjoy food as much as I do, so I'll just pretend I don't enjoy food. If I were the kind of person that could do that, I guess I'd be happier. But I can't even imagine pretending to be.

Drama

So David finally texted me. When he was with his lawyer. He got arrested for drunk driving.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

The thing is, I biked drunk a couple of weeks ago, and I knew I was probably over the legal blood limit, so I was careful and nothing bad happened.

But drunk biking isn't illegal.

When I got together with the ex, he was on probation for marijuana possession with an intent to sell charges. (He didn't sell, he just bought a lot at a time because it was easier that way, and he smoked a lot.) The marijuana was an issue with us. Not as much an issue as the gambling, but it was a sense of how differently we view the world.

But David had 2 drinks in a bar and drove home. I would have done something like that. I would have said "1 drink an hour, it's been 2 hours, I'm fine." Evidently, he was driving safe, but there was a checkpoint.

He has a lot of drama in his life. Unlike this, most of it does not seem of his own making. This was stupid.

But I really like him. I really do. And so I think I'm still in. Honestly, my whole body got happier after he texted me, because there was a reason he'd disappeared. I wish there was a little less drama. But I think I'd rather be with him, with his drama, than only without any.

Blue

Well, David seems to have disappeared. I expect he'll show up again, but I don't know. And I really don't think this is something I can compromise on. I'm OK if he changes plans, but I'm just not OK with him disappearing and not telling me what is going on.

I'm so terrified of being too needy, too demanding and driving someone away. But there's also a question of what I can live with. And I don't think I can live with this. Even if he does reappear at a later date.

If he gets that this is a problem (it's the 2nd time he did it, but we hadn't gotten serious the first time, and he had a really huge thing thrown at him, so I understood it), I'd love to be with him.

He is the first person I've ever had an orgasm with that I wasn't running off into fantasies at some point when I was with him, and he is the only men I've consistently fantasized about after. He was just the perfect combination of caring and dominating and playful and sexy.

We had said we weren't going to see other people (and I had several people flirt with me at a party last week, and I didn't flirt back). I feel like we should have a conversation before I repost my collarme profile. But he hasn't returned my texts or phone calls.

I can't help but noticing guys disappearing on me is a major constant in my dating. I have to wonder what I do that enables this recurring situation.

I just want to curl up and cry.

The Great Houdini

So I really thought David was the real deal. And I was willing to make a couple of major compromises to be with him. (Distance and his child having autism.)

But, and this isn't the first time, he just disappears on me, and I really hate it.

We were supposed to get together tonight, and he's MIA. I had a bad day yesterday, I think partly because I had this horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach that he was disappearing.

I don't understand why men do this! If he can't get child care, fine, tell me. Don't just disappear. I hate it and I feel like I was stupid to ever trust him and maybe I'm over-reacting because I haven't gotten proper sleep for a week and I have all these cuts from a stupid yard accident yesterday (I fell out of a low tree I was pruning--my ego is as damaged as my legs). I also think John's extremeness about being with me and then forgetting talking about whether we should get married and borrowing my ring exacerbates my sensitivity to this. Maybe David will call this afternoon, sorry that he left his cell phone at work. But in the meanwhile, I want to curl up and cry instead of getting out for work.

But why do men just disappear like this?

Odds and Ends

Every year, I have this amazing and magical weekend, where I feel the possibilities of youth. The possibilities of possibilities. Where I think I could remake myself and take the road I didn't take. Or I could remake myself and combine both paths I care about. (Ack, I almost wrote 'about which I care' to avoid ending in a preposition--what a geek I am that, even tipsy, I'm scared of breaking one of Strunk and White's commandments!) When I was younger anything possible, though nothing was probable. Than I started making some pretty impressive accomplishments, and it was like very accomplishment slammed a door shut. My accomplishments more than my failures in a weird way. Failures could be forgotten, hidden, politely brushed under the carpet. But accomplishments were written up in Who's Who is America. They never forget anything. And Who's Who means the top 1%. But who cares about the top 1% that isn't in the top 1/100th of 1%. For every James Franco, there's a thousand guys working on their 2nd PhD that just seems like a loser. (Oooh--judgmental. If I weren't tipsy, I'd be more polite. But I am, so I'm not (and my spelling is atrocious--thank heavens for spell check!).

Yes, I'm still quite tipsy, and wired, but I'm still on pacific time and everyone else is on Eastern time and it was time to go back to my hotel and not do anything stupid. David and I said we wouldn't sleep with other people (even though we haven't slept with each other), so for some crazy reason, men were coming out of the woodwork to flirt with me. Guys were dancing with me, putting their hands around my waist, offering to take me in their cab, get me drinks, laughing at my jokes, swearing to get me work and overall making me feel like a queen of the ball. But the energy had started to change and I felt less comfortable with the crowd (although I was relishing in the attention; one of the after-parties clearly felt like an audition for new talent--maybe I'm still young enough to qualify as new talent!)

But being tipsy lets me write without censoring myself, or at least without censoring myself as much as I usually do. (And I won't let myself go to sleep until I've had at least 8 ounces of water for every drink I've had and I drank 6 drinks in the last 7 hours, which is honestly more than I've had in the last 7 months, I think. Probably not, but pretty close.)

Typically, this time each year, I'm blue because I have to go back to my quotidian life, but I think David and I will have sex this week. We've already talked about how it is too early to talk about marriage. We've had amazing not-sex. I really like him. I like so much about him. And he is such a generous lover (for not-sex--hopefully that carries over). We were talking about what I might be allowed to do, and he basically said 'as long as you are obedient, you can do whatever you want.' The Ex wouldn't let me initiate sex, even with sultry looks. He finally let me kiss him, because he realized how devastating it was to my self-esteem that he was saying I couldn't initiate sex in any way. I asked David what he liked for under-things, and he said he wanted me to be comfortable and feel sexy, but he might buy me things from time to time. What a generous statement!

The only thing I'm aware of wishing from David is something that Joshua started, actually, which is using D/s to support me in finishing career goals. But I have a feeling, if I ever had the courage to ask for it, David would be happy to do that for me. He is amazingly engaged and supportive.

I think there was a point to this post. Other than not censoring, liking David and the possibilities possibilities.

David likes texts. I like phone calls. He called me this week and I couldn't take the call, and then I was like "he hasn't called for no reason since we actually met--he must be breaking up with me." And I called him back, and he couldn't wait to feel my touch. I would really like to get to the point of being able to just appreciate that he was doing something because he knew I liked it.