Posted and pulled this twice on Saturday. Concerned it left me looking more easy than empowered, seeking validation. Then a friend who's fallen down a bit called to tell me she loved me. The only phone call that came all weekend. She just wanted to tell me she loved me and that the words, as they are, help her.
Good, bad, easy or ugly. Available, indeed.
I waft on desire, mistress of my domain. Enjoy the ride you could say. But there remain men in my stratosphere I would drop panty for at nothing more than a, “Yeah, you wanna?” Some men are long standing fantasy, built up in my mind because they won't be tempted by cuckold and wiles.
One can have pretty much any woman he wants and (by all accounts) has. Despite best efforts, he hasn't had me. Talent is sexy, draws me like a moth to a halogen bulb right before a grand puff and rancid potato-and-burnt-cheese smelling smoke. I could have seen him Friday night, planned to. But my clothes felt too tight and my ego too tongue-tied to make a cool re-appearance and I wanted to be better looking for him than I am right now. Maybe I just wasn't up for being rejected. Again.
Slap in the sense, I deserve it.
I happily scamp when beckoned with a hand slap on the thigh and a “Here girl!!” But nobody wants what’s hot and ready on the plate. The mouth waters for soufflé, ordered 45 minutes in advance, the anticipated taste elevating the pleasure. Note to self: soufflé not fast food.
I checked in with a work buddy recently. I always considered him the cutest boy in puppet land and harbored a crush for years. Dave Grohl-looking but with a cleaner edge and less gum chewing. A couple years back I pulled together the courage to ask him out. Well, “asked out” in the guise of “want to meet up with me at the company holiday thing, maybe, sorta huh?” Said he would have loved to, except he was home on leave with a new wife and baby, the second coming just about 9 months and a day after the first. He sounded (in my ear) somewhat disappointed. He never knew. The boy I always thought out of reach I could have touched after all. I never knew or, more to the point, believed it.
Few weeks ago, with round after round of layoffs and in a completely innocent fashion I assure you, I checked back in with him. He’s still employed, married happily and asked how I was. Asked if I was my “usual amazing self.”
The available, genuine opportunities you walk or walked past - pushed along by the hand of self-doubt and fear in your back - are on the dessert table too. Hard to swallow that.