A very dear friend of mine uttered those words to me recently. We were discussing the fact that I want to seduce a mutual friend of ours. Well, I was discussing, he was too busy telling me I'd never pull it off to offer anything of importance.
I didn't deny his assertion that I wouldn't be able to do my usual jerking off of the impossible, especially since the seducee is three thousand miles away - I simply reminded him that geographical unavailability has never stopped me before. After all, that's what got me to California in the first place. He didn't argue after that.
Score one for yours truly.
Let's begin with a little history, shall we? For most of my life, my friends were boys. I was too rough and tumble to find girls even remotely interesting as playmates. Sure I toyed around with dolls on occasion, but I was far more inclined to be out climbing trees, or tagging along with my brother and his friends, (he used to make me play linebacker in neighborhood football games - not because I was an exceptional ball player, but because he knew the boys would be too afraid to hit me, and if they weren't, they soon found out that I hit back).
As I grew older, and began to develop an alternative interest in those icky boys, I found that I was usually delegated to the little sister role, something I despised (and still do) but was stuck with, nonetheless. I was never the perfect make-up wearing, long hair sporting, had to look pretty for the boys kind of girl. Even when I did start to wear make-up, it was of the freak-girl variety, and you can imagine how many boys were attracted to that.
It wasn't until I graduated from high school, moved down to Florida, and started clubbing on a regular basis, that I found a core group of friends that included both boys and girls who were just like me. The boys were covered in tattoos and scared most normal people, and the girls would just as soon lay you out as look at you.
I had found a home among people who supported me and accepted me, no questions asked. I had male friends with whom I could be curly without the automatic assumption of sex. We could be intimate without the fear of rejection or judgment. Intimacy sans sex was the norm rather than the exception. I could ask, without embarrassment, all the questions only a man could answer, or bemoan the state of my love life without being labeled a girly-girl.
The closeness I experienced during this period of my life is something I have never been able to duplicate since, except for the very occasional snuggle with the few men I consider among my closest friends. I may not speak with them more than once or twice a year, or see them any more often, but I know if I need them, emotionally or otherwise, they will be there without giving it a second thought.
And therein lies the problem - I've been spoiled, and have an incredible standard to which everyone I date or include in my circle of friends is held. And very few people, male or female, I've encountered within the past ten years have been able to rise to that standard. To say I've been disappointed would be an understatement.
My own asinine behavior aside (and believe me, I've had my moments) there has not been one male with whom I've felt comfortable enough to simply lie in bed and be curly; to just enjoy the moment with no expectations or pressure to do anything except exist. The person I felt would be the one to clear the standard mark hasn't, and so I'm left pondering the idea of looking to my past to see the future.
Jump to post phone call. As I was busy doing mind numbing, office-bitch work, those words kept getting top billing in the theatre that is my brain. My initial reaction was to debate the issue in literal terms. It's no secret I've always had a crush on the seducee, and would not be at much of a loss were anything to actually happen. I love the idea of having a relationship with someone I know and trust and who knows and trusts me. No way to pull any shit, you know what I mean? There's no chance of him falling under the spell of my perfections because he already knows I don't have any. Enough said.
That line of thinking, of course, is the romanticized version. The chances of anything developing between us on that level are slim to none. Geographical distance aside, neither one of us seems inclined to talk candidly about it. I flirt and giggle. He laughs. I ask him why he's laughing. He says it's because I'm giggling.
