My last relationship was the first I’ve ever been in where I wasn’t the person to love more. In the past, I’ve always had more love for my partner. I’ve been more devoted. I’ve been more giving, to the point of letting men use me.
Being the one who loved less was a truly enlightening experience for me. I finally got to feel what all the men I’ve dated and loved have felt. I really enjoyed feeling the love that my (then) boyfriend had for me. His desire to spoil me and even just treat me well made me realize how shitty some (most) of the men I had previously dated had treated me.
At the same time, it was hard not being able to return the feelings for him that he had for me. I was honest with him all along about what I was and wasn’t feeling, and he understood that I wasn’t going to tell him I loved him if I didn’t feel that way. Unlike all the men whom I’ve loved who haven’t loved me, I was ok with him telling me he loved me. I knew it was true. He couldn’t help how much love he felt for me, and I couldn’t force love to grow on my part. I wasn’t going to forbid him from expressing his feelings though other men in the past have forbidden me from expressing mine for them.
Part of me still wishes I could have returned that love for him, but most of me knows it wasn’t meant to be. I just wasn’t going to fall in love with him. I do hope he finds a woman who can return his love, though, because he was such a loving man.
One of the things I’ve spent a lot of time contemplating since my last relationship ended is attraction. What causes attraction? What creates that chemistry that attracts us to someone? What causes our heartstrings to go “ping”?
I initially had a crush on the last guy I was in a relationship with. He was kind and loving. He was very attracted to me. I was hoping that the instant attraction he felt for me would eventually be reciprocated on my part. I’ve had deeper attraction grow in other relationships after a few dates when I was initially hesitant. That attraction didn’t happen, though. The few feelings I had from the crush rapidly disappeared. That highly powerful sexual desire never grew for me. It just wasn’t there.
Yet with the very next date I went on, I was attracted to my date almost instantly. There was something magical there. Midway through the date, he said something (about a train, certainly not a romantic statement), and my heart felt like it had been struck by lightning. Why was this man attracting me so much when the previous man had not?
Obviously we can’t control whom we fall in love with. We can’t control who falls in love with us either. It all just happens. I wish it wasn’t so inexplicable, though. What makes the sparks fly? Why are we so much more attracted to certain people than others? Why is love so complicated?
Many years ago, I read on a blog that one should buy a toolbox as a sex toy box. One could put a lock on the box and tell the kids it was dangerous tools and thereby keep them out. So after I bought our first toys, my ex bought me a metal toolbox for putting the toys in. However, the one he bought doesn’t have a way to attach a lock so that defeated part of the point. I kept the box anyway since it still served the purpose of storing toys. It lives in my walk-in closet underneath my clothes, and I pull it out when the occasion arises that I need its contents.
Recently the heat of summer has descended upon Central Texas. We’re hitting 90 every day, so I had to quit my denial and pull out shorts which I had packed up for the winter. They were in the back of the closet in storage boxes, requiring digging around to find what I wanted. I moved the toy box out of the way while I rummaged for the shorts, and then I put the storage boxes back in the recesses of the closet, now loaded up with my jeans which I won’t need again for far too long.
What I failed to do was put the stupid metal toy box back away. Instead, as I gathered up the armful of shorts and walked out of the walk-in closet, I managed to whack my leg on the fucking toolbox that I didn’t see on the floor beneath my full arms. I now have a four inch black, blue, and green bruise on my shin that includes a red cut where the box really got me. It’s a veritable kinky rainbow.
It’s not bad enough that I date sadists and let them use sadistic toys on me. I also own a sadistic toy box that attacks and tortures me, too.
This recent article on CNN.com about why women make noises during sex really pissed me off. The highlights:
- “‘While female orgasms were most commonly experienced during foreplay, copulatory vocalizations were reported to be made most often before and simultaneously with male ejaculation.'”
- “Women also reported making noise to relieve boredom, fatigue and pain/discomfort during sex.”
- “Vocalizing during sex can actually be a great tool to help women get what they want in bed…. ‘Use vocalization to teach your partner what feels good. It can help you say, ‘stop, go, yes, more please,’ without sounding like a traffic cop.'”
- “‘I think there are many women who need to be vocal to help themselves achieve orgasm. It helps move them and their orgasm along. There are certainly phases. As a woman gets into it, she may become extremely vocal and then move into a period of quiet as she is on the verge.'”
You know what’s missing in the article? Completely missing? Women making noise because they are so overwhelmed by pleasure that they can’t help but vocalize as a release. Why the hell isn’t that discussed? Why can’t the author of the article and those the author quotes see that some women scream with pleasure because they can’t contain how powerful their orgasms are? Why are women’s sexual pleasure and orgasms seen as things that are difficult to achieve rather than something completely normal?
Seriously, we need to do massive work on how society views women’s pleasure during sex.
Despite my great optimism about it, my most recent relationship only lasted a month. He is a great guy and has a lot to offer for the right woman. I just am not that woman.
From our first date, he began falling in love with me. He was certain that I was The One. I didn’t feel that instant chemistry to make me believe that he might be my forever guy, but I was open to seeing if it might grow.
For him, the love kept blooming. I never had any questions about his feelings for me. He was truly enamored with me. I liked him a lot, but as much as I wanted the love to grow, it just didn’t develop. Instead, the opposite happened. The initial lust I felt for him quickly faded away. I found myself thinking of him as a friend instead of a lover. I became resentful about the idea of having sex with him because it just didn’t feel right to me any more.
Once I knew that the love was never going to develop for me, I couldn’t lead him on with him hoping so much that I would eventually feel more. I just knew it would never be there. So I did what I felt was the merciful thing, and I let him know that I very much wanted to remain friends, but I couldn’t offer him more.
He told me I would never hear from him again.
While I hope that was a statement made in anger and pain, he has disconnected from me on all social networks. I know there’s a chance I won’t ever hear from him, and that saddens me. He is a great guy, and I had a lot of fun with him. We laughed quite a bit together. It just wasn’t the right romantic relationship for me.
I hope he does find the woman he is looking for. He had informed me early in the relationship that he would never date again if things didn’t work out with me, but he’d already reactivated his dating profiles the day after we ended things. I take that as a sign he hasn’t truly given up hope.
Relationships aren’t easy, but just finding a good one to be a part of is really a struggle.
Remember when I wrote that I find masturbation a chore? It’s still usually true.
Yesterday, however, my boyfriend whispered in my ear at the grocery store that he was putting me on a two week masturbation restriction. Dear heavens, that was sexy as fuck.
And now? Now I want to masturbate. Oh, the irony.
The drought is over. The rains have fallen. No crops were planted: thank heavens for condoms and vasectomies.
I have been spanked and fucked. I am very happy. So is he.