The “just friends” game

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I have this friend who I met and kissed under very drunk circumstances (the more I write the more I’m beginning to think I have a drinking problem) and soon after our meeting we decided we’d be friends (with the added benefit of kissing each other under aforementioned drunk circumstances- which actually only happened once).

We went out on “dates” where no hand holding, cuddling, affection or kissing were present, rather our conversations were laden with sarcasm and his constant surprise that I’m smarter than I look (in his defence I’m a blonde studying fashion, stereotypes don’t do me much justice). We became fast friends with blatant honesty towards each other, especially in the field of romantic tendencies. We both discovered that we’re selfish beings too wrapped up in our own lives to actively or fairly participate in a proper relationship.

We spoke constantly and then sometimes not at all, and I can tell you it was a much appreciated friendship. But then I had missed his birthday – I hold birthdays of little to no importance and often forget that people get sentimental about celebrating them, a fact I found out soon after. I thought it no big deal, naturally, and apologized for my missing but assumed more than enough ladies were present to keep his indulgences satisfied. (Apparently I was wrong)

Anyway some time had passed and we had both come back from our separate holidays (him with his friends and mine with a man-but that’s a story for another day) and he had invited me for drinks and a movie. On the night, our natural flow of sarcasm ensued and the movie was rather entertaining, however as the movie ended he kissed me… Unusual, considering neither of us were drunk and I was under strict perception that we were just friends.

Lucky me, he told me he was attracted to me and needed to have me- not in the romantic sense but physical. I giggled and told him we were friends, a fact I never hid or diverged from, and he agreed, that we wouldn’t go further as it would ruin our friendship.

Funny thing though, since then we hadn’t spoken. It has been months. I’m not upset as much as curious as to why the silence? but I accept it… But riddle me this; sex was going to ruin the frienship?

When I say we’re just friends, I mean it. Why can’t others?

Desperado…or commitment phobia?

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There are men who just don’t get it, at all! And no matter how much you try explain they just will never.

I am not flimsy in my choices of relationships, in fact it takes a lot for me to even contemplate getting into one at all (in 99% of the cases I just don’t). Some call it commitment-phobia (because imagine a person who doesn’t have a phobia) but I call it not settling.

I don’t mean in the sense that I’m waiting for a man who completes a checklist from 1 to 19 but rather waiting for the butterflies (I know! Who would have thought I had a thing for cliches) : enter desperado (the nickname I gave this date)- the man who wanted more…

Why? Why is it when I clearly express that I am there for fun and a good time men demand attention, loyalty, and commitment … Did I mispronounce ; ” this is casual” ?

Every time we went out Desperado would try hold my hand, try introduce me as his girlfriend and then laugh and say he was joking. (With a wishful tone hoping I would accept that it simply wasn’t).

Silly how when you want a relationship you swim in a pool of playboy sharks and the minute you want a bit of fun and flings you’re playing a game of “it’s not you, it’s me”. Obviously, I no longer could go out with desperado, his need for me sent me running towards the hills and further… Is it a case of him not being the right one…or am I truly commitment phobic? *gasp*

The mystery of the pyramids…and the heart

http://www.hplyrikz.com/
http://www.hplyrikz.com/

When searching for a reason for most mysteries in life I often am disappointed with absence of an answer. I suppose that is the thing about mysteries: most will always remain in the black holes of time. However, from the mysteries of the Egyptian pyramids to those of the mind, none is more mysterious or unsolvable than the reasoning of the human emotion.

Love is a four letter word that has countless pieces written in its tribute. I think it is only fair that, in turn, I dedicate an entry to this almost unexplained sensation. The difficulty in writing this piece is not the lack of knowledge towards the subject but rather the lack of a decent idea on how to describe the emotion without a clichéd, cheesy description.

My love is a complicated one; it is filled with care, kindness and dependence but twisted on the outskirts with a hint of jealousy, a pinch of mistrust and a tiny dose of life’s betrayals. For me, to love is most difficult, but to love me, is even worse. With a somewhat warped and conflicted character I battle to balance the want for freedom with the need for a constant being. I’m attention-seeking yet distant, fun yet disconnected, but with all this I love. A constant tug of war between my hardness and softness, my want to enwrapped in the arms in another and my need for freedom, my insane fear of commitment and the fear of loneliness.

While reading over my description, one is almost drawn immediately to the sense of desperation while I try most hard to avoid it. You see, my love is real, my love is whole and my love is complicated. I cannot explain why.

That is where my mystery is given birth to and my curiosity for reason is aroused.

WOW! this is going to make dating easier...NOT
WOW! this is going to make dating easier…NOT

Is Christina Yang my spirit animal ?

There is a certain sentimentality that comes when one is with another human being. Except I’m not sure this feeling I am able to feel. Maybe the heartache of a relationship past is so severe that the heart/brain does not allow for any amount of attachment or maybe I’m simply not wired that way..

As I lie in the arms of my friend one night (side note: I have a habit of calling the men I’m involved with friends, although I kiss them…a lot. They are all well aware of the fact that I call them just friends, and that I give myself, and them, the complete freedom to see other people. How this functions? I don’t honestly know. But somehow it does)….anyway, as I lie in the Arms of my ‘friend’ one night I find myself completely emotionally unattached to him, while physically we have great chemistry I don’t find myself jealous at the conversation of another girl or on any level wishing that he were mine… I find this very odd.

Will I manage to care one day? Is it me? Or is it the case of just finding the right one? Or maybe I’m the Christina Yang of the world?

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(Ummm don’t cuddle me)

“No, sir, I do not have daddy issues.”

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(Ummm…maybe not)

Clubs and bars are the birth place and breeding grounds for pick up lines, lonely individuals awaiting a drink offer or men on the prowl (just as much as women I dare say). Where women have fantasies of meeting the one (secretly of course) and men have fantasies of their next erotic conquest (mostly ruined by the fact that too much whiskey makes for a most unattractive man).

I find myself at my local watering hole not very often, but when I do, oh boy! Am I duly entertained and am even more socially awkward than I care to admit…Let me explain:

It’s a Friday evening and I’ve decided that means a girl friend and me simply must go out dancing ( she is in a relationship and loves a night out with female companions whilst I love that she is not on aforementioned prowl and we can actually dance). I wore sky high heels (that puts me a great deal taller than most), black jeans and a backless floral top and approach the dance floor with extreme confidence. In my entanglement of whiskey, sweat and dancing I was approached by a significantly older man who offered me a drink, which I had to decline more out of the fact that I had just purchased a full glass of whiskey than of actual rejection, and told him he can enjoy his night furthermore ( a polite thank you and goodbye gesture on my behalf).

However, this did not deter the old sod (I’m speaking about a man in his healthy 60s where I remain firmly aged in the 20s category), he remained in place watching my friend and I dance for about 90 minutes, and as soon as my drink had reached the bottom had pounced like a lion in the Serengeti to the offer of another.

I simply couldn’t, I had decided that if I had said yes to this drink I may lead him on into thinking I’m interested, instead in a moment of alcohol induced panic I responded , “no thank you sir I don’t have daddy issues”. Needless to say the gentleman walked away and I self diagnosed myself with “foot-in-mouth disease” …. But hey what else was I meant to do?