There have been changes with me over the last six months that I haven’t really addressed. Oh, I’ve hinted at them, but that’s been about it. And for me it’s something that’s kind of big.
I think I’m kind of done with men.
Oh shut up. I hear you guffawing behind the woodshed. I’m serious.
Sure, I’ve had these thoughts before, but in the past they’ve only lasted five minutes or so before I went back to really, really needing a man in my life. This time? It’s lasted since mid-June. Almost six months exactly.
It was after my trip to Sacramento. I had seen a great deal of MusicianMan over the course of those three days and found myself missing him after we got back home. Okay, I was kind of missing Mimi Kennedy too, because she’s just too cool, but there was more of the MusicianMan-missing than the Mimi-missing. So a few days later he and I talked on the phone about this and that. We talked a bit about our friendship, which we agreed would remain pretty much in the realm of our political activities or group activities, as he didn’t want to run the risk of mixed messages and hurt feelings. Especially considering the issues that each of us have (we’ve become close enough friends that we know one another’s issues and totally understand them). Of course I wanted to protest a bit, but I knew better and so did he. I mean, CuteNerdBoy, anyone?
Damn, why do I always have to like the smart, perceptive boys?
So after we hung up I thought to myself, “That’s it. I’m done with guys.” And I brushed off my hands the imaginary dust of masculinity.
That thought has lasted pretty much since then. Even after seeing MusicianMan for five days straight – with many, many hours spent together each day – in Washington, DC in September and me experiencing more MusicianMan-missing after we got back home (we ended up talking/e-mailing everyday for a week after that – and I didn’t even initiate the calls/e-mails). Definitely a first for me.
I’ll admit, at first I was horribly sad about my conclusion. I felt as if I were giving up and resigning myself to a lonely and loveless life. I despised the very idea of it. Me, the eternal optimist, give up? When I talked about it to close friends, I couldn’t hide my sadness, even when I tried.
But over the last month and a half, I’ve started feeling kind of okay with it. Maybe because it’s stayed with me for so long. Maybe I’m growing up. Or maybe I’m just realizing that 2006 is going to be so busy for me that I won’t have any time for a romantic relationship. Any spare time I might be able to eke out will be spent eating, sleeping and trying to maintain existing relationships with my friends and family.
Now, none of this means that I don’t have occasional pockets of, “Oh, how I would love a man in my life right now.” Nor does it mean my libido has disappeared. And it certainly doesn’t mean I’m giving up sex entirely. It’s not like I’ve had a lobotomy, people. I mean, the Saturday before Halloween I decided, at the last minute, to go to Summer’85Boy’s yearly Halloween party and I went with one mission in mind: I wanted to get laid by a guy who would drive me home. Mission accomplished. Next time, though, I’m going to specify that the guy actually be really good in bed. I’ve had sex three times this year, and two of those experiences? In order of occurance: bad and mediocre. No more.
Besides, that libido? So, so very much present. If MusicianMan knew what went through my mind every time we’re at some meeting or another, with him usually speaking at some point, allowing me to look at him without having to be sly about it, well, he would probably never stop blushing. And this is not a man who blushes easily, my friends.
Okay, I could say the same about what runs through my head regarding Jon Stewart. Or Hugh Jackman. Or Julian McMahon. Or…
Nor does my recent conclusion mean that, if an appealing man were to pop up in my life tomorrow, I would turn him away. Again, no lobotomy, folks.
But I am more at peace about not having a fella around. I’m at peace about a number of things. It feels good to be at peace. I’d almost forgotten what that was like.
Turning 40 next year? Just might be cool after all…