After a nine-year hiatus I’m dating again.
I have seven brothers. So, hanging with brothers from other mothers is easy.
Until I feel erotic attraction. Then all hell breaks loose.
I’m either blissful, buoyed by sense memory of life with boyz, or I’m freaking.
And occasionally I feel the urge to spar, like that one time in college when I sparred with H.
We were at a party, beer in our bellies, and all evolved, especially after H showed me his Calvin and Hobbes tattoo, in the neighborhood of his pelvic crest….
But in general I suppress this desire for fear that sparring might be mistaken for savagery.
Recently I went out with D.
Mutually shy, we circled each other for hours; the way animals do in the seconds before they hump.
After a while he spoke about his on-going study of talking to women. He went on forever.
And while I was engaged, the average human mind wanders into sexual fantasy after seven minutes of continuous listening. And mine is no exception.
I found myself holding his gaze; then watching his mouth.
I imagined our bodies closer and moved in ever so slightly.
Then he stopped talking, and I choked.
Breathlessly I filled the air with a synopsis of the dang French Feminist theories.
I started in on phallogocentrism and how ‘…our minds are colonized by patriarchies; therefore our masculine, action driven society represses feminine principled space an-‘…
The moment shattered.
My six syllable words came too soon, too swiftly. And, mildly emasculated, he started to text.
I wished I’d let his soliloquy land before I became ‘I-know-all-about-this-topic’ woman. After all we were not talking, we were circling one another; sensing, smelling.
I’m not certain where my big mouth took him; I just know that our ‘date’ lost its frisson in a heartbeat.
C’est la vie. I’ll get a do-over, maybe even with D; as the tide pulls so it returns.
Next time may Eros keep me in my body, out of my nerves, and in the animal dance.
hot on elephant
July’s Full Moon in Capricorn: The Heart wants what it Wants. The 4 Stages of a Good Divorce. How to Love a Woman who Scares You. Our Soulmates are Rarely Who We Expect. I Still Think of You. Men, Let’s Stop Fooling Ourselves: Size Matters. To the One Who Tried to Break Me. An Open Letter to the Fixers. How your Stored Memories in the Amygdala can lead to PTSD. How My Sister’s Death Transformed my Self-Perception.