Of course I still talk to men. I have some very good friends who are men, who I respect and love dearly. Solid, committed, married, family men.
I also talk to school teachers, pharmacists, and the occasional neighbour.
Its the other type I can’t be doin with.
Not ‘cos there’s actually anything wrong with them. The problem is entirely mine.
You see, I do love men. I’m a flirt. I love the buzz of meeting someone new. I love the passion. The physicality. I love everything about it.
And I can’t be trusted with all that stuff. Evidence and history have proven this time and time again.
In the end I have never met a man who didn’t turn out to be serious or sad. Or both.
This is not a criticism. Serious and sad are entirely valid ways to live. Just simply not how I choose to live.
My own father was this type of man. He had very valid reasons for being this type. The men I’ve lived with and the men I’ve loved also had strong reasons to be this type of man.
But I can’t be doin with that. Because I love my life. I want to enjoy my life. I don’t want to discard any happpiness or fun living in support or sympathy for some sad bastard.
So you see, its not you. Its me.
Of course I have times when I would love to live my life with a strong, masculine companion. I’m wired that way.
But loneliness only lasts 10 minutes. The reality can take years to excorcise.
In clarifying why I no longer talk to men, I had to ask myself who I was clarifying it for. My stance is deliberately off-putting. Deliberately offensive. Prior to this I had made a commitment to celibacy, but I still couldn’t resist talking to those boys. And because I love talking to those boys this lead to a, well… lack of celibacy…
And so the cycle starts again.
I don’t hate men. I’m raising one. And I fully intend to raise a good one.
But I also intend to have a fun and enjoyable life. So, I’m off the cycle.
I wish you well with yours 🙂