I have spoken a bit on my deep need to be a good parent. To raise my girls to be good people who work hard but also know when to play and value family. This has not been easy.
I do not entertain even the tiniest notion that I am the only woman who has felt as I do. In comparison with some, I have been incredibly fortunate. In comparison with many, I would wager. Were I a gambling woman.
I didn't know that I was a romantic. And once I knew, I thought I had set that aside. But I guess if hope is part of your genetic make-up then you can never truly set it aside. That is all that romance is, after all. Hope.
I have fought to give my children all that I could, thinking that they needed a father in their lives to have a complete experience. I couldn't seem to make their father want to fill this role. Or the step father that has also been left behind.
I have a friend who has commented to me that it is a wonder to him that with my history, abusive father, abusive spouses, I am still able to enjoy men at all. And it is true that I am a much more careful and cynical woman. But I do still enjoy and value men.
Let's start with the sex. Yes, there are alternatives. And they do fine. But when it comes down to it that plastic is just a tool that does what you make it do.
A Man can smile just that way that makes your breath hitch over you glass of wine. He can create that subtle rush of attraction that gets you excited and keeps you there.
A man can press his hand in the small of your back as you walk together. Just enough to let you know he's there and he's aware of you physically.
A man can tug that stubborn zipper down, pressing intimate kisses to your nape that set your pulse to racing.
A man can touch all those pink and tingling places while you just enjoy the happy happy sensations.
A man brings the scrape of chest hair against your breasts at the same time as mouths lock and naughty bits tangle. You ankles wrap over wide thighs, the soles of your feet dragging up and down.
Yeah. You can't get that from B.O.B.
And on to the stuff outside the sheets.
I can change the oil in my own car. I can shoot, dress and process wild game. I can do everything I might possibly need to do to survive.
I can't hug myself when I feel as if the world is pushing me down into a hole the size of a kleenex box.
A Man, presented with a problem has to fix it. He can't just listen and commiserate. He has to fix it. This can be irritating unless understood. But its still sweet.
I wanted to say that men could be loyal and a long list of other stuff but its all stuff that anyone could be. I just get along better with men than women. So for good friends that is to whom I turn. Men.
Because I find them simpler and easier to understand.
I have no idea what point this post was. I just felt like writing it.
