This is rumour control and here are the facts.
The next time a man wants to tell you they are logical, reasonable and their brains are working with facts and information and not feelings, emotions and PMS: that they can’t read minds and appreciate us women to just say what we mean … throat punch him: see if he feels anything and gets the fact they are still, most of the time, full of shit. *winks over at The Romantic Misogynist in good fun*
PC messaged me a bit today as I got dressed for our date. I am going to be honest here and say that virtual dating has not changed the male brain, they are just out of physical reach but never the less virtual lust still does not compute with me: I was 50/50 about the evening in that he went ‘dark’ on Monday which given our limited history (ten months) was out of the norm. That means I didn’t shave everything or give myself an enema in prep for anal but I did get dressed up, shit, shower and shave none the less. I lightly packed an overnight bag as planned and waited. Life happens; people get sick, hurt and grandmothers do die… but disappear? Only online. So around 8pm in good ole Pyx fashion I asked him straight out: are we still on for tonight. Things are still silent. I don’t expect to hear from him, unless I make first contact, but because I actually like him as a person I will – however sex might be off the table which in turns means I don’t expect to hear much from him. It’s all relative.
So much for men being all straightforward and appreciate the same in women.
I am actually not pissed off, I am writing this with my hair and makeup still on, my garter belt and Cuban heel stockings: because I still feel good about myself but I am wearing slippers and blogging. Sigh. In fact when it comes to men I expect it (see above non preparations) because most guys think they want a smart casual sexual shoot straight from the gyrating hip sort of girl – but truth is I am sure they much rather be adored by a doe eyed Bambie subservient one. That isn’t me. I cannot blame them either. I don’t cry over guys, I don’t want to talk about shit, there is no follow up email or texts, no phone calls, and I don’t plead, beg or ask them ‘why’ or for a second chance. There are downsides to being with me… I take people at their word and hold them to a strange standard: all people are shit and they have to prove otherwise in order to get my devotion and respect. PC got that from me, he deserved it.
Rule number one of keeping a lover: when that lover disappoints it is NOT YOUR HUSBANDS FAULT! I will be up in the AM per usual to greet my husband with a smile and coffee/breakfast as he comes home after a night shift. I will ask about his night, we will go to bed and sleep, then wake up and go about my daily routine.
As a married woman and PC a single man, a single woman takes first priority in my mind – he owes me no explanation but just because I am married and doing him on the side doesn’t mean guys can treat me like crap either. Had I not met him, and he was just this virtual first date, I wouldn’t be writing this. I would have been fine with a ‘can’t make it tonight my dog that I don’t have died’. I do not abide by that Oprah crap of closure; it’s a fucking myth, so it doesn’t matter why, at this point it happened the way it did and there isnt anything I can do about it. Up till now he’s always been great with communication, even about other women, so this does change the dynamic if we continue in any capacity. I am not wasting my time trying to figure out the male brain, that is like staring into a cows eye ball while eating a Big Mac hoping to find the answer to the meaning of ‘life’ but there are a couple of things that fall solely on me.
I decided how much I made myself available to him. I decided what I was willing to do with him sexually; I chose to take/send him naughty pictures, chat and whatnot. I asked my husband for a night pass to spend with PC. I made him something for xmas. I chose to not date or fuck other men in his profession, its a pretty small tight knit pool. That is on me, not him. I don’t regret any of it either.
If I have to say anything about the whole thing the bad parts are: I actually pulled out my old burlesque routine and practiced because we had talked about a lap dance. I thought it would be fun. I lied to my husband and said I was in for the night because of a work conflict on PC’s part. I have no plans to tell my husband the truth because it wasn’t his deal. I was looking forward to getting out and away for a night more than I realized.
The good to come of it is: I can still walk in six inch heels with a tea cup on my head, which would make my grandmother proud. I still feel tremendously sexy, the routine was good to get myself moving around like that and no matter how much I expect to be let down, it doesn’t stop me from holding out hope and acting on that hope with another human being. I learned I give great head! And though I might a bit tongue in cheek about the whole thing, PC was important enough to me that I still maintain self-discipline: I did not take up SS, the lawyer, on his offer of a date tonight.
I think I might be a bit embarrassed about actually working on my burlesque routine while my ferrets laughed at me! I should not let that go to waste for long but I am not about to throw myself on second rate cock either and I certainly do not pull out the tittie tassels for just anyone. The sexual build up is fucking painful, I have been sitting on it for a week, but this is nothing new either. My husband will bear the brunt of that, he is a lot smarter than he looks, so I expect overtime he will know that PC and I are on the outs. In a strange way I don’t want my husband to be disappointed in PC, someone he liked and trusted so much…
That is rumour control and those were your facts with a few emotions added for good ‘female logic’ measures because I would hate to disappoint.