Wednesday, October 28, 2009

One is the lonliest number...

I miss having a boy around.  I’ve been fantasizing about putting an ad online again and finding myself some gawky, puppyish bit of cougarbait to corrupt.  Perhaps a virgin, so I could teach him stuff.  Perhaps I would also make him bathe me (I love lying back in the bathtub while a pretty boy washes me) and/or spread moisturizer on me.  Stupid movie last night putting fantasies in my head…

This arrangement would be all well and good if I could find someone stable, but it’s astoundingly hard to find a guy who just wants to come over and play and who will do so regularly and not suddenly get a girlfriend or inexplicably stop calling.  I’m sure there are guys out there who aren’t looking for anything serious and who’ll happily come over and service me on a long-term basis, but the problem is weeding out all the flaky dumbasses.

The other thing is that when I’m this lonely, any time a boy treats me well I find myself thinking “Hmmm.  Could this guy be dating material?”  No.  No, he couldn’t.  Especially if he’s under 23, because guys that young are so emotionally stupid and lacking in life experience that it’s like they’re a different species.  When I try to explain anything emotion-related to them – even the more intellectual ones – I find myself dumbing it down like I’m talking to the family dog.  And while snuggling up to watch cartoons and then giving each other a bunch of orgasms does technically describe my ideal relationship, this synopsis leaves out the part where I’m madly in love with the guy.  The part where he understands me.

So, yeah…if I could magically meet a young’un who’s honest and straightforward and always calls when he says he will, and who’s awesome to hang out with and yet somehow, magically, I don’t find myself crushing on him – that would be great.  But magic doesn’t work like that and the trial and error thing is just gonna waste my time and fuck me up.

I’m going to focus on myself, instead; I’m going to do all the things I wish a boy would do for or with me.  Make myself little meals; bathe myself in yummy-smelling products; treat myself to a movie now and then.  And all the time I save by not obsessing on why some douchebag hasn’t called will go into launching my art business.

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