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single — creative writing — hobbies — preferences — home last changed 5 October 2006 some profanity is used on this page, and links may contain minor nudity. |
this is a collection of very brief ideas designed to paint a multi–dimensional picture of being single.
there are times i'm happy that i wake up alone. the times when i sleep right through the alarm, and when i trip over my shoes getting out of bed. the times i have to pry my eyes open with the jaws of life, and when my hair looks like a rain forest hit by a tornado.
other times, the dawn of a new day focuses my mind keenly on one wish... that when i open my eyes, there will be another pair of eyes smiling back at me. sometimes i just want to know that someone else is there. i want to know that i'm that someone, for someone.
when i was little, i couldn't sleep at friends' houses. all the breathing, tossing and turning; the tiniest sound or movement would wake me up. all i wanted was utter silence. now i would give anything for the soothing rhythm of someone else's chest rising and falling. i can't stand the silence.
i was pretty sheltered as a kid and, although i resented my own ignorance of the way people work, i continued to protect myself from a lot of experiences after negotiating my independence. dad's heavy–handed approach to parenthood saved my butt from some ugly situations. i resented him for it, but it wasn't without benefit.
i was a good kid. i never got arrested, or brought home by the cops. i never shot or stabbed anyone, and my parents never had to lose sleep worrying about where i was or what i was doing. i never hit my parents, and rarely talked back. i did reasonably well in school, most of the time, solely because it was their expectation of me.
there was a dark side to being the model young citizen, however. when i was 10, i never played with other kids my age; i was expected to hold myself to a higher standard, and the penalties for not living up to expectations were a bit harsh for my taste. i spent a lot of time with younger kids, but it was in the role of supervisor. i also listened to the college kids talk about science and philosophy and traveling the world.
when i was growing up, i rarely brought any friends home from school— mostly because i didn't want anyone to meet my parents. my parents weren't psychotic or neurotic or prone to violent outbursts... not in public, anyway. but i didn't like them, and i didn't want to be like them, so i didn't think it was in my best interest to introduce them to anyone.
i didn't have an older brother who played football and always scored with the hot cheerleaders. i didn't have a younger brother who played practical jokes and always got attention for being the cute one or the underdog or just the younger one.
i've never had a sister's perspective. i didn't suffer her taunting comments before i left for a date— and knowing looks when i returned home. i've never heard from a girl what girls really want to hear, or what my strengths and weaknesses are.
i never had to try to be bigger and badder and more interesting... so i wasn't. this let me escape the whole macho male competitiveness, which is great... but it also left me unprepared to talk about girls with the guys.
i've never known how to hold a girl's interest effectively, or how to seem more exciting than the assclown who cheats on her and beats her up for fun. i've never been able to understand why the jerks always had girlfriends and i never did.
i never had to compete for a girl's attention... so i can't. i never got any advice, patronizing or otherwise, from any peers who knew what they were talking about.
i'm a virgin in more ways than the obvious. there are many varieties of virginity, and i have several. in fact, i'm a bit of an expert in the field. let's discuss:
i've never been drunk, and i've never been high. i've never been skinny–dipping, and i've never broken any bones. i've never kissed someone on a dare, and i've never copped a feel. i've never even been pulled over for speeding.
i've never had a long–term girlfriend. i've never cheated on anyone, or been cheated on. i've never broken up with a girlfriend. i've never hooked up with someone just for sex. i've never asked for a phone number with a plan to get laid. i've never purchased condoms. i've never purchased an issue of Playboy, Hustler, or Penthouse.
i'm not saying that i'm proud or ashamed of any of this. so far my life has been a demonstration of self–control, and a lot of that has been deliberate. if i wasn't capable of controlling myself, i'd be dead or permanently incarcerated by now. i'm just pointing out that while it's true that promiscuity can dramatically shorten your life expectancy, so can loneliness and depression.
several of my closest friends have become aware of my situation at various points. the general consensus is that i must be the pickiest man alive. after all, sex is not all that difficult to obtain, if you're not picky.
i don't think i'm overly selective, but i suppose my opinion on the subject might be biased. i do have standards, which i stand by. i could never be happy with someone i didn't feel attracted to on some level. that seems obvious, and appropriate. it would be bizarre to be blissfully happy with someone i didn't like.
the point could be made, and it has, that i don't have to stay with that someone for the rest of my life. sex, or fooling around, or exploring possibilities, doesn't have to be a commitment. go with the flow, they say... see where things go.
that idea isn't very appealing to me, though. losing access to the sex shortly after finally getting it would probably be even more frustrating than never getting it in the first place. with that in mind, i refuse to go looking for a one–night stand. i probably won't even accept one if it's offered.
there's an old saying which suggests that there is a time and a place for everything. that means that sometimes it's good to be picky, because there's a time and a place for picky. by the same logic, it also implies that sometimes you should be a slut. the trick, it seems, is knowing when to run away, and when to fuck anything that moves.
everybody has a list of qualities or traits they're looking for in a potential partner, lifemate, or fuckbuddy. some lists are long and detailed; some are short and vague. i like to think of mine as a compromise— short and detailed.
a more exhaustive list of everything i like would take too much time, leave too many important things unsaid, and leave too much room for offense. there are, however, easy questions of physical taste and a few basics that i can illuminate with visual aids.
first, and most undeniably, i need a girl. while i like to think that i'm not homophobic, i am most definitely not a switch–hitter. moreover, i've met a lot of girls, and i'm fairly certain that not just any girl will do. there are a lot of bland people out there, and i don't want any of them. it needs to be a girl with a certain uniqueness about her... a girl with attitude.
of course some attitudes are more appropriate than others. i don't need an elitist, a snot, a spoiled brat, or a whiner. she needs to be at least a bit of a geek. i'm not a strictly normal guy, and she shouldn't be a strictly normal girl. her sense of humor should run to the... slightly odd.
she needs to have a backbone. i don't want a stuck–up know–it–all, but i don't want an airhead with no opinions of her own, either. she should be just a little bit dangerous. that being said, i don't want to get my head ripped off every time we disagree about something. raging demons need not apply.
in summary... i need a girl with a peculiar set of qualities. she must have a sense of humor— i like girls who like to laugh and smile. she should be happy to let me call the shots, but also be keenly aware that i'll do anything to make her happy... so she's secretly in charge, but the burden is on her to make me believe that i am.
if you think you have what it takes, fill out an application.