(no subject)
I heard from Alex the other day. I'm not sure why I chose then to reply to her e-mail, maybe because I've been on my reconnect kick and missed her still. Also...she was a little more energetic in her last message; it made me feel a bit more like she wasn't still mad at me. I had admitted I missed her, which is true. But deep down inside I still worry about her obsessing over me.
Hell, I guess I'm still a little hung up on her, mostly physically I think.
It was a good love between the two of us. No doubts, there was physical chemistry like nothing I'd experienced before. Raw unadulterated passion. It was the first time I'd had my hands on something warm and soft in I don't know how long, and she was coming off a series of particularly crappy boyfriends (one of whom reportedly tried to prove his trustworthiness in a coffee shop by saying "I could cut your throat right now, but I won't").
We healed each other. Satisfied a deep longing we both had by being together. She needed a hero, someone to trust, and I needed someone innocent and naive as myself, and as hungry as I was for passion. I did things with her I'd never done with another girl and we just kept going for more and more daring ways to do them. She wanted to taste every inch of me. While we were resting she would tell me how she researched new techniques on the Internet to keep things interesting.
Whenever she visits Acapulco she thinks of me, and I don't blame her.
But now I get an e-mail from her finally telling me about her ex-husband. I'd been mildly shocked when I received her wedding bans. Disappointed I suppose; it does well for ones ego to think there's a girl out there who pines for you a bit.
When she finally described him though, it wasn't pretty. Six-months of some German bastard treating her badly, being violent and possessive, cutting her off from the rest of her friends and family. A man who CONTROLLED her. The way she described him he was some sort of Jekyll and Hyde replacement for me: a hero one moment, then a villan the next, and...I just don't know how to reply to her e-mail. I could tell her the truth, that the moment I read about this "man" the thin veneer of civilization fell away from my mind and I wanted to pulp him with my bare fists, that all the energies I carefully control and rage I reason away came out and wanted to grab him by the neck and shake him like a dog might toss a rat in it's teeth. But would that just make her obsess over me as Her Hero again? Ugh.
The rest of the last couple of days have been fine otherwise. Peace and quiet mostly. I was at Mike's on Friday and Joe's this morning for brunch. It was hard to listen to Joe's lament about his latest girlfriend. She's a decade older than him with kids, and she's an emotionally fragile woman after divorcing a man who was her husband for most of her adult life. I dispensed some of my theories about our familial issues, for instance how we take too much responsibility for women loving us in our relationships (see above) and feel some sort of guilt over it in case it doesn't work out. Mostly, a new theory I developed on the spot about attracting immature women: emotionally mature women tend to have little problems we're over-sensitized to thanks to our dad ("you left a coffee cup on the table! You're disrespecting me!"). Our guard is up for such things, so we end up with slightly warped/immature women I think. Normalcy is at the *core* of left-out coffee cups. Women who police their coffee cups with rigorousness are...well, damaged I suppose. Again, new theory.
Another idea that came to me was the concept of our own personalities driving off emotionally mature women. It was something Alex mentioned to me that brought me to this conclusion: We are each good and righteous men, we love our women and care about family. And so many bastards out there fake that to get women (again, above). Alex told me she thought I was a player pretending to be a hero, faking the act of living a good and noble life. She didn't realize that was how we were raised, how we feel comfortable existing.
So what's the workaround? Well, it's nothing simple. Our failings include lack of assertiveness with the females (counterpointing our dad's controlling streak), which makes women feel too...huh, uncared for? They seek out the baseline control to feel like we're satisfying that inherent Caveman dominance they expect? That's an older theory, but still valid. And confirmed in various women's magazines; women want to be controlled but by the *right* man.
Anyhow, cleaning to be done tonight, then Mad Men. Perhaps I can get my room clean enough so I won't feel self-conscious to the point where I don't want to leave the door open. A simple goal. :)
Hell, I guess I'm still a little hung up on her, mostly physically I think.
It was a good love between the two of us. No doubts, there was physical chemistry like nothing I'd experienced before. Raw unadulterated passion. It was the first time I'd had my hands on something warm and soft in I don't know how long, and she was coming off a series of particularly crappy boyfriends (one of whom reportedly tried to prove his trustworthiness in a coffee shop by saying "I could cut your throat right now, but I won't").
We healed each other. Satisfied a deep longing we both had by being together. She needed a hero, someone to trust, and I needed someone innocent and naive as myself, and as hungry as I was for passion. I did things with her I'd never done with another girl and we just kept going for more and more daring ways to do them. She wanted to taste every inch of me. While we were resting she would tell me how she researched new techniques on the Internet to keep things interesting.
Whenever she visits Acapulco she thinks of me, and I don't blame her.
But now I get an e-mail from her finally telling me about her ex-husband. I'd been mildly shocked when I received her wedding bans. Disappointed I suppose; it does well for ones ego to think there's a girl out there who pines for you a bit.
When she finally described him though, it wasn't pretty. Six-months of some German bastard treating her badly, being violent and possessive, cutting her off from the rest of her friends and family. A man who CONTROLLED her. The way she described him he was some sort of Jekyll and Hyde replacement for me: a hero one moment, then a villan the next, and...I just don't know how to reply to her e-mail. I could tell her the truth, that the moment I read about this "man" the thin veneer of civilization fell away from my mind and I wanted to pulp him with my bare fists, that all the energies I carefully control and rage I reason away came out and wanted to grab him by the neck and shake him like a dog might toss a rat in it's teeth. But would that just make her obsess over me as Her Hero again? Ugh.
The rest of the last couple of days have been fine otherwise. Peace and quiet mostly. I was at Mike's on Friday and Joe's this morning for brunch. It was hard to listen to Joe's lament about his latest girlfriend. She's a decade older than him with kids, and she's an emotionally fragile woman after divorcing a man who was her husband for most of her adult life. I dispensed some of my theories about our familial issues, for instance how we take too much responsibility for women loving us in our relationships (see above) and feel some sort of guilt over it in case it doesn't work out. Mostly, a new theory I developed on the spot about attracting immature women: emotionally mature women tend to have little problems we're over-sensitized to thanks to our dad ("you left a coffee cup on the table! You're disrespecting me!"). Our guard is up for such things, so we end up with slightly warped/immature women I think. Normalcy is at the *core* of left-out coffee cups. Women who police their coffee cups with rigorousness are...well, damaged I suppose. Again, new theory.
Another idea that came to me was the concept of our own personalities driving off emotionally mature women. It was something Alex mentioned to me that brought me to this conclusion: We are each good and righteous men, we love our women and care about family. And so many bastards out there fake that to get women (again, above). Alex told me she thought I was a player pretending to be a hero, faking the act of living a good and noble life. She didn't realize that was how we were raised, how we feel comfortable existing.
So what's the workaround? Well, it's nothing simple. Our failings include lack of assertiveness with the females (counterpointing our dad's controlling streak), which makes women feel too...huh, uncared for? They seek out the baseline control to feel like we're satisfying that inherent Caveman dominance they expect? That's an older theory, but still valid. And confirmed in various women's magazines; women want to be controlled but by the *right* man.
Anyhow, cleaning to be done tonight, then Mad Men. Perhaps I can get my room clean enough so I won't feel self-conscious to the point where I don't want to leave the door open. A simple goal. :)