The last couple of days (minus last night/this morning’s fear induced post about Trump) have been an interesting look into erotica, specifically about the escapist fantasies it provides, and how the addition of emotional connections can transform it into a romance story instead of just erotica. Well, not “just” erotica, but you know what I mean.
I particularly love how August MacGregor tells us that he writes for the thrill of it! Isn’t that exactly the reason why we read these sort of stories? We want the thrill of seeing people fall in love (or sometimes just lust), and we want to live out the fantasies that we don’t get to have in our normal, boring, everyday lives.
Admittedly some of us get to have a few more fantastical elements in our daily lives than others… Like I’ve mentioned before, sometimes people tell me my life is very much like a romance novel.
More like a series of erotic stories with an occasional romance thrown in, but hey, that’s just semantics. I always hope for the romance story; I tend to settle for the smut.
There was some hope that things with the Bartender would be different. I’m currently on the fence as to whether or not they are in fact different. Part of that is because I think he’s on the fence about what exactly we are. What the status of our relationship is or could be, versus what he wants out of it.
Things have become… complicated. When we began seeing each other, we had tentatively agreed to no strings attached. We were just going to enjoy each other’s company while we both figured out things in our “real lives.” He was just starting divorce proceedings (or so I thought) and didn’t want to get too involved in a relationship right away. As such, I told him that was fine, but he needed to understand that a relationship was what I wanted, so I was going to continue looking, on Tinder and elsewhere, if applicable, to find what it was that I wanted.
Yet, that’s not how it worked. On either end. While we were texting and planning our first date, the obvious connection between us was so obvious to both of us, that I think we both knew exactly what was going to happen when we actually met each other. And we agreed to kiss before actually saying hello to one another. I cannot imagine a more romantic first meeting!
Even he likes to say that it makes our story unique.
And see, that’s kind of part of the problem… He says these absolutely adorable things that speak of the longevity of our relationship. He makes plans for the future. He talks about “our story.” He tells me how amazing, and perfect, and wonderful, and special I am, and he calls me “Angel…”
And we’ve said the “L-word” to one another.
I said it first, during a particularly *ahem* passionate embrace. Then I said it again afterwards to let him know that I wasn’t just saying it because of the heat of the moment.
Shortly thereafter, he reminded me that he wasn’t exactly a free agent. Actually, he let me know that somehow, the happiness I brought him made his marriage bearable, so he wasn’t sure if he was going to actually go through with a divorce…
This did not sit well with me. For obvious reasons, such as it doesn’t make any logical sense whatsoever!
We’ve argued about it, and I felt myself becoming slightly nagging, and I accidentally called him by the Boy’s name in my head, which is not a good sign.
But I enjoy his company too much. I’m not ready to try to go back to being all alone.
So, I re-downloaded Tinder (for the third or fourth time), and while we’re still doing our thing, I’m back to actively looking.
Ironically enough, I had turned down one of my old Tinderfellas just the day before the Bartender dropped that whole I “gave him the courage and the strength to get back with [his] wife” bomb on me.
It was the guy who wanted to do the older teacher fantasy even though he was only a couple of years younger than me… The one who called me after 4 in the morning, which apparently pissed me off enough that I didn’t even keep the pic he’d sent me of his “young, thick, hot” member.
He sent me a text calling me “teacher,” and asking if we could talk. A handful of my students get my number from Facebook once they’re 18 and/or graduate (whichever happens later), and sometimes they call with legitimate questions. I did have one former student text me one time asking for info about a poem we’d read so he could use it to impress a girl… Thus I was desperately trying to remember this kid. The name didn’t ring any bells, I was terrified to offend one of my former kiddos, but I just could not remember him.
As such, I even looked through my file of pics that have been sent to me by men (Yes, I keep them… don’t ask me why, I haven’t really figured it out yet), and I didn’t have a file with his name on it.
He finally fessed up that he wasn’t a student but one of my Tinderfellas, and then it all came back. That 4 AM phone call must have really pissed me off to make me not save his picture, because I remember it was rather impressive. I commented on it on here, even.
Either way, he propositioned me and I turned him down.
But, why do men think that the language he used is attractive? Why would he think that would work on me when I had turned him down before? Not just turned him down, but essentially ghosted on him after text yelling (All CAPS) at him for calling me after 4 in the morning… on a Saturday!
Granted, because things with the Bartender had been going so wonderfully (up until the day AFTER I got this text from this jerk), I would have turned him down anyway, but if I had been looking for someone to play with, his way of asking me if I wanted to play would have done him in.
Similarly, yesterday, I was talking to someone who said in his Tinder profile that he was a writer, and so I expected some level of intellectual foreplay, but none came. I even told him that I was really looking for something more intellectual, and he refused to give it until I sent him a pic where he could actually get an accurate gauge of the size of my breasts (because it had come up in conversation).
I sent him a modest picture to get the ball rolling, hoping he’d surprise me with something exciting. He did say some very interesting things, things that would be worthy of our discussion of Erotica, perhaps, but not anything that would keep me interested.
I asked the Bartender why that was (yes we’re still talking, I’ll get to that shortly…), and he said he had Big D*ck Syndrome. On further questioning, I found that he meant that Robin Williams quote about 2 heads and only enough blood for one. I’m not quite sure how he said it, but I’m pretty sure it was a Robin Williams joke originally… or maybe he got it from somewhere, but still, it’s funny.
Funny, but sadly accurate, it seems.
So… the Bartender. Why am I talking to him after he hit me with that shocker?
Because he also told me that he’s just learning to deal with the fact that he’s a coward, and the first step is to acknowledge there’s a problem.
I feel a little bad because I’m the one who told him he was a coward, but he has been. He’s afraid to change his situation even though he’s miserable, and EVERYONE he knows has told him to get out of his marriage, enough so that if he and I hadn’t met, he tells me he probably would be divorced by now, but because I made him happy, it made things bearable… Yadda yadda yadda.
People who are more knowledgeable about men than I am have told me that it all depends on whether or not he is naturally a coward.
If he is naturally a coward, then he will stay in his situation and I’m wasting my time. However, since I’m still actively looking, I feel safe knowing that I am working on a backup plan.
If he is NOT naturally a coward, but has learned this behavior, then he will begin to make changes. I think I see evidence of that. He had told me about a woman he saw before me that basically said similar things to him, without calling him a coward obviously, and he just ghosted on her. He told me this as he was explaining that he always runs away from things, especially things that make him happy. But he has promised me that he will not run away from me.
It’s a first step to not being a coward. A small one, but still a step. It’s enough of a step that I’m willing to take the risk… Especially because I AM still looking… though it hasn’t yielded much of anything yet.
It’s been a bit of an emotional roller coaster with us these last few days…
It all goes back to that emotional connection.
The Bartender and I have a really great connection, which is why I’m different from the other girl, the one he ghosted on.
That’s what he tells me.
But I know I feel it, too.
All of those things that the Boy did in the beginning that made me feel like he and I had a connection, the Bartender does, too, but with the addition of telling me (in a love language that I understand) that I’m important to him.
And, night before last, he said to me that, although it didn’t change our situation, he did love me, too.
Like I said, it may be a small step, but it’s a step.