All this time I’ve been thinking that I can’t find a good man because a good man hasn’t crossed my path yet.
But that’s a lie.
I think I’ve come across a few.
You see, I take an odd approach to meeting men.
I bombard them with my sexuality and dare them to see ANYTHING AT ALL beyond it.
Of course, the good ones run away, and the bad boys stay.
So I have a bouquet of rebels and dirty boys to choose from.
They’re the ones who value sex as much as I do.
And I’m not in love with a single one of them.
And none of them are in love with me.
Maybe, and this is a BIG MAYBE, I need to relinquish my vice grip on sex being the most valuable part of a relationship and consider that there are other things infinitely more valuable.
Conversation, for one.
Thoughtfulness, for another.
A great sense of humor.
God, I can’t believe I’m going to say this but maybe I’ve been valuing the wrong things all along.
Maybe, if I want to find someone, I need to just stop with the sexting, and the nude pics, and the dinner dates at his place and just SLOW THE FUCK DOWN!
I think I’ve forgotten that I’m a woman, not just a vagina begging for earth-shattering orgasms.
Is this what my friends* have been trying to tell me all along?
If I really want to wind up with a decent man, then I need to embrace the woman I am, not the sex that I want.
Am I my own fucking problem?
*Barbara, Lisa, Rob, Michelle. . .