Fear not, your loveless warrior is still here. Heroically surviving the insipid realm of dating. I use the word surviving in a way that depicts a lazy walrus flopped on a block of ice, bobbing around on the water’s top… because my current dating mood is “meh”.
If you’ve not done your homework and you’re a little behind on my dating adventures, then stop right there and play some catch up:
Right – good to carry on? Let’s go then…
Let’s talk about sex, baby
I’ve come to learn that for many people, sex is a big part of dating and I don’t mean after you’ve been on a date or few, but even in the precursory stages of just messaging someone new. Now, flirting with someone you fancy is fairly natural, even I attempt to flirt in my own awkward way, but flirting to me is not trying to engage someone is full blown sexting, asking for nudes or anything so vulgar that would cheapen the delirious buzz of getting closer to someone you like – I know I sound soppy but fuck it.
Admittedly, I’m somewhat of an “over-thinker”. I’ll think about a situation and every possible outcome of that situation as a means of, let’s call it, mental preparation. I know this is a stupid thing to do; waste time and energy pondering fictitious scenarios which may (often don’t) come to fruition but I also can’t help it. Now, sex is one of my most overthought areas because it very directly, and intimately, affects someone else. With traditional dating concepts going out the window, sex seems to be very readily available and, quite frankly, it’s lost a lot of what makes it so great… There’s even an app for easy hook-ups now making getting laid easier than ordering a pizza, for fuck’s sake!
At the end of the day, we’re animals; we survive, we procreate, we die. However, unlike a vast majority of the animal kingdom, humans have sex for pleasure which throws our society into chaos. Sex is great, sex has consequences, sex (for many of us) is emotional – A recipe for disaster or the greatest love story ever told?
So let’s say you meet someone and the attraction is there, the butterflies are making you weak, your skin prickles as your hands tremble and you just think “oh God, please kiss me you fucking fuck”.
And then they do. Now, providing they haven’t fallen into a coma from your incredible lip-locking capabilities, how does one handle what may or may not happen next? Beyond the kissing hurdle comes the question “How far do I want to take this?”. My thought process goes into hyperdrive and it spews out crap from my eejit of a brain because if I do want more than a make-out session, what are the risks to my emotions, my reputation and theirs.
The Internal Monologue of the Anxious Mind: Is it too soon? – Fuck it – Will I be another notch on his bedpost? – What underwear am I wearing? – Will he tell all his mates? – Will this give me a bad rep? – Does he like me too much or not enough? – Have I shaved? – Do I like him enough? – What is this?! – Yes – No – YES – NO – ARGH!
Fuck or Flight
It’s extremely hard to turn down something you really want, especially when it’s within (or in) your grasp. It’s at this point my overactive anxious mind enters a cranial war with my animal instinct.
For someone who likes to indulge in things they enjoy, sex is the one thing I’m most reserved about because I would rather go without, then risk hurting someone or open myself up to be hurt. I’m not embarrassed to say that I want them to want me for more than a lay, more than a body, more than an opportunity, but these things are rarely discussed nowadays and social media has made sure that we’re almost too afraid of expressing our emotions. It’s like the “dating language” I tried to decipher previously, if you even attempt to ask what/if you’re both a “thing” too early, it can set off alarm bells because suddenly you’ve forced them to face reality and that reality is “Bro, you may be about to do a shitty thing here”… and no one wants to be a cunt.
So, there I am, locking lips with a handsome man and I’m not in the moment as much as I want to be because this worrisome brain of mine is battling carnal forces beyond my control. And that’s a perturbing thought in itself, that the primitive pleasures which lay before me are so powerful that my animal instinct ignites and the vulnerable excitement weakens any rational thought.
And as his hand snakes past the point of no return. I succumb… Consequences schmonsequences.
And now what? The (oh so very) lucky guy has seen me naked. Seen me in my most vulnerable state and regardless of how brief or lengthy the encounter was, the result is still the same.
Ok, so “shame” maybe a little far fetched but a sudden wave of worry consumes the post-coital euphoria; “What did that mean?”. A new name on the rap sheet brings me one step closer to embodying that all too familiar tar of an MTB Hoe Bag. Now, I’m careful of my feelings and I’m pretty cautious, so to think my defences have been thwarted by some fittie with a silver tongue, concerns me along with the possible heartache that may be waiting.
For someone who’s usually very open and direct with people, even I get caught up in the fear of having my feelings hurt, and hurting someone else. When it comes to sex, you’re never going to really know what the other one is thinking and sometimes, when you do pluck up the courage to ask, you get a well-rehearsed few lines to throw you off their true intentions; “I’m not like that” – “I’m not that kinda guy” but I really hope that isn’t the case though…
It’s not all bad though…
As I’ve opened myself up and entertained you with my misery business, I’ve been harbouring a little secret and that’s a minor success in my dating life.
I’ve not only met or spoken with dickheads but I’ve also had a couple of successful dates, or so I think they were successful. I didn’t end up crying or regretting them, so that’s most definitely a positive. Right?
I think I’ll keep you on tender-hooks until the next instalment before I divulge any more information though as I’ve discovered that with success comes even more Why’s and What-the-Fucks.
As I make my way through single-life, I’ve met some charming fellows, dabbled in modern-day dating techniques, been confused and left feeling like the prospect of being a crazy cat lady isn’t so bad after all.