I'm 26 now, so I pretty much know how the world goes. It's about appreciating little things. Like people who predictably get knocked off balance when the train jumps forward, yet they still refuse to hold on. I usually see that coming.
It's not very easy to make me angry. Some people think that makes me a pushover, but I see it as a character strength. It's one of the things that I respect when I see it in other people.
Sometimes I find myself wondering "What would be the most socially inappropriate thing I could do in this situation?" Usually the answer is "vomiting", or "licking that strangers neck".
I embrace weather. It makes me crazy to hear people complain about the weather every morning. I think if life's a chore for you you should get out.
Living in another country makes it easier to appreciate things you never noticed at home. It makes me look at the way toilets flush, and why signs for emergency exits are green.
I get the impression that I'm a pretty normal guy. I've had my share of experience with girls, and I've certainly made my share of mistakes with them. That is, of course, how you gain any sort of fluency in the female language. I'm a bumbling, awkward prat around members of the opposite sex, but I admit it, and I like to think that makes it okay.
It also helps that I absolutely adore women. I know that as a dude I'm expected to, but not every guy does. A lot of guys appreciate them only to the extent that they would appreciate a pet. They expect to just pat them on the head and put a bowl on the floor for them and their girlfriend will come running to lick their face. There are obvious faults to this way of thinking, and it entirely misses the best things about women.
I think women are wonderful beings, and that if they knew how lovely they were there would be a lot more lesbians in this world. Women smell good, they change their underwear regularly, and they don't fart. They wear bright colours and they giggle amazingly. Men stink, can't cook, and expect the world to revolve around them.
I have personally met women who will cook for others all day long and will not rest until everyone around them is groaning with contentment - and they do this out of enjoyment! Such giving creatures. I cannot personally fathom how someone would take such joy from the chore of cooking dinner. Yes, women are wonderful beings, just don't tell them lest they realize how little they need us dudes.
It has been suggested in the past that my appreciation for all things female may come from the fact that my late teens were spent living with three women - two older sisters, and my mother. At this point my dad had taught me the necessities of being a young man, including fish-gutting, hitting a baseball, sleeping in the snow, and whizzing with the bathroom door open. At this point I was able to live with women without the slightest fear of losing out on something vital to my masculinity. In fact, my fondest memories of my early teens are of my older sister and I baking cookies with too many chocolate chips to be structurally sound and cleaning the house top to bottom when my mother left for work so a to surprise her on her return. Before High School was finished, my dad was living in his own place around the corner, and I was then full-time in the care of the female race.
Besides, by this time the Royal Canadian Army Cadets had taken over my male education and were doing an excellent job of picking up where my dad left off. By the time I was 16 I had fired more rifles, slept in more tents, climbed more mountains, and worn more military uniforms than men twice my age, and my childhood ambition was to make my career with the British Parachute Regiment the minute I finished High School.
On the other hand maybe it was my fully-developed masculinity that allowed me to become comfortable enough with myself that I could really enjoy the wonders of women.
Years later, this appreciation for women is what brings me to my dilemma: I want one. Just one is all I need, but it has to be the right one of course. I would love to provide you with a list of requirement - a list of must-have items on my shopping list that need to be fulfilled in order to make me happy, but every time I play that game I only prove myself wrong.
I used to think that I adored brunettes and had little use for blondes, and then I dated 3 blondes in a row (and lusted after countless others). I have always had an appreciation for short chicks, but not exclusively, either. The only constant that I've stuck to is that I can't date a girl who I didn't find at least somewhat intelligent.
That hasn't stopped me from dabbling with the occasional idiot, though. I always kid around about dumb women being easier to trick into bed, but of course there's a lot of truth to it too. This is why aerobics instructors are a staple of most men's fantasies.
But back to the point - I want my very own beautiful woman to love and adore and cuddle and buy things for. The right girl can make you do all of these things until you're broke and homeless and have lost every friend you had, and still you're happier to give her everything that's yours to give. And the best thing is, you get even more enjoyment out of every gift that she gets out of receiving it. Her only gift in return need be a smile and a coy look of satisfaction.
It was inevitable that it would happen - I've had a few run-ins with love and it's not so ba. Kinda makes you appreciate it, but the best thing about having been there in the past is that you can see when it's happening to you again and you can shrug off its charms when it's inconvenient.
That's not to say that my current predicament has come from a need for love. On the contrary, my current situation is a product of playing the game too much. I've never been anything but honest with a girl, in my intentions and in the way I feel, but it all gets to be too much sometimes and at some point you realize that you want to get off the treadmill. You want a steady thing, and you find yourself thinking only about the high points of every relationship you've ever had. You want to retire at your pinnacle and lock in with a girl you really like. Everyone wants to be impressed with the person they eventually end up with.
I think ultimately I want to meet a girl who challenges me, keeps me on my toes, and pushes me around a little. I'm a bit of a bully myself - not physically, but I have a strong personality and I throw it around a little sometimes. I love strong women, but they're a lot to handle. They aren't the kind of girls who you waggle your little finger at and they come running, but who wants that? What wants a robot around the house? I'd just get a fucking dog if I wanted someone who did what they were told. So off I go on the hunt for something more.
On that hunt, though, I've always had a few rules, and I stick to these rules very strictly:
1) I never cheat. If there's someone else I'd rather be with, then I'll be with her. If I'm tempted enough to fool around, then i'm not satisfied enough with my current position to stick around. Get out.
2) I never mislead someone to get what I want. Admittedly, I'm not always looking for happily-ever-after. In fact, sometimes I can't even promise to be there the next morning when she wakes up, but she will know that and expect it. I will never try to be something I'm not, but I can't promise that what I want in the beginning won't change before it's over. If what I want is different from what she wants, I get out.
3) Remember that I'm a dude, and I have needs. Girls do it too. Don't expect every relationship to be about anything more than sex. With that in mind, remember rules 1 and 2. As long as nobody's getting hurt, it's fair game. If someone's getting hurt, I'll apologize and get out.
4) Only tell them you love them if you mean it. Don't think that spelling it with a " u"makes it alright to deceive - if you're not convinced, don't play with their hearts. Women are emotionally high strung, and that kind of thing can leave them crying into a cup of hot chocolate every night for longer than they'll ever admit.
I grew up in Victoria, BC, Canada. Most of my first sexual experiences were with girls I met at Army Cadets. You put 25 pubescent guys and 5 girls in a bunch of tents out in the bush and you're going to come back with 8 guys wearing huge grins and 3 girls who can't walk right for a week.
When I turned 18 I moved to Cambridge, England, for about a year, and then I spent 5 years in Calgary, Alberta. After Calgary I lived in Victoria and then Lethbridge, and eventually I moved to London. When you move around that much in the space of 6 or 7 years it doesn't make sense to get into anything serious.
I always considered my transient years my practice years. These practice years led me to the final exam, or in my case, London. With a degree in Finance, London is a great place to find work, and it's not so bad for finding women, either.
For 6 or 7 years before the big leagues, though, I was tempted to get into heavy relationships. Admittedly it was stupid, but I adore women, and I can't stay away, I'm only human. Besides, it's easy to get carried away in a relationship. Suddenly you find yourself thinking
"Maybe this girl would like London? Maybe she could spend her life on the other side of the pond and find a job there somehow?"
But you know she can't. Regardless, you need a bit of experience before you make it to the regular season - before the cup is at stake. If you don't play the exhibition games you will never win in the regular season.
Before I moved to London I had told only one girl that I loved her, but I had meant it at the time. We had talked about her coming with me, but we both knew she wouldn't. People in love are irrational by definition. Level-headed people in love do stupid things and can't even see it.
I had been asked by other girls before I finished University, what would happen when I was done with my time in Calgary. They knew I couldn't wait to be unleashed from my educational sentence and would soon be roaming the world. Their only question was would it be with them or on my own. In keeping with my position of never leading a girl on I could do nothing but skirt the question, leaving them rattled and well aware of my answer, but happy enough to deny it to themselves and any concerned parent who should suggest that they were getting too attached to a boy destined to move on. In my defense I have always been inclined to cross bridges only when I come to them, and have never seen the benefit of conjecture, particularly when the decision need not be made for years to come. Had things worked out I would just as soon have asked my mate to join me on my travels. It would have been doing more disservice to us both by not waiting to make that decision.
As much as I've somehow had a reputation for it, I've never been a great charmer of women. I often find myself with more female friends than I do male ones, which to me shows nothing more than my appreciation and understanding for the creatures. In fact, it probably infers more of an inability to entice these girls than demonstrate virility. Most of these girls probably became friends out of a failed attempt to sleep with them.
At the very least this has left me with a vast team of sexual advisors in all things female; an army of agony aunts spread across Canada and parts of the UK, most of them available by the push of a few buttons on my mobile phone or through a simple email, bound to be returned in hours or days with insightful commentary, musings, and well wishes. Casanova never had it so good (although he probably didn't need it like I do).
My sexual conquests prior to University were admittedly slim. Like every man ever grown, I've had to come to terms with the fact that most of the courting process is on my shoulders. The role of women is often considered to merely be keeping themselves attractive enough to be flirted with, and the role of men is often to initiate an opportunity. I absolutely hate chasing women, as I have no respect for men who letch and leer all over them in the hopes of tricking them into bed, and I have no desire to represent those guys. That being said though, I have the same perverted desires that those guys do.
In fact I have always felt it my obligation to myself to sow my wild oats and get a lifetime worth of sexual debauchery out of my system while I'm still in my early years. I am utterly convinced that a man (I cannot speak for women) will never be sexually satisfied until he has experience all (or nearly all) of his perverted sexual fantasies. I firmly believe that this is often the cause of divorce and unhappy marriages, and for that reason I feel it is my duty to do some sick shit with the women of this world before I settle down.
This is why, given the opportunity, I spent my time at University ploughing as many fertile fields as I could. These were the glory days of sexuality for me, and I knew it. I knew that I could play the game to a glorious extent, more so than most can, becasue I knew that my slate would be wiped clean and I could move on to the big leagues of London without bringing with me a sullied reputation, only an ingratiated libido and sense of masculine accomplishment, justified in my ability to satisfy a woman.
The foundation was laid, and soon, so would be many an Albertan girl.
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