I've come to that point where I need to feel wanted. I miss that "Is that guy checking me out?" feeling I used to get in days of yore. I mean face it, they say 30 is the new 20, but does it really feel that way? Do you wake up refreshed and excited and full of that youthful piss and vinegar you once possessed every day?
No.
I get up and go to work every day, living the same day seemingly over and over. Feeling fatigued by 4pm and ready for bed by 9. Wow I'm really the life of the party aren't I?
I have been busy sure, weekends full of miscellaneous plans and occasions. But I don't know if I would call it having a life per say. None of it was my doing. I am just a guest, an observer attending the goings on of others moving forward.
Not even sure I would know where to begin if that wanted feeling actually got me anywhere these days. That wooing I long for has left me so out of the loop I am afraid I would stare like a deer in headlights, shocked and awed, immobile and unsure of how to proceed.
I mean sure we all have that carnal instinct of a basic and sexual nature we need to fill. We've all had that go-to person or persons over the years. Those faithful standby's who serve that sole purpose of fulfilling such needs. But then what?
You find yourself in the throes of it, feeling fearless and sensual. Nary a negative thought goes through your mind as you tangle yourself in the sheets, on the couch, in the car or where ever your tryst make take you. You revel in the feeling for days. You feel untouchable, a wanted woman yet again.
And then the reality of it hits you again. I can do this, with ease, with candor. I can be witty and charming. Sexy and coy. Behind closed doors. Late at night. Incognito. The hush-hush nature of it all. The secretive society of the friends-with-benefits world you become wrapped up in. And it’s not bad, you don't dislike it, you just wonder about what else is out there more.
Is there something wrong with a public acknowledgment of your attraction? Why is it so taboo? You get to doubting yourself again, and not at the fault of your partner in crime, no. This was of course consensual, but your over-thinking antics and low self-esteem combined with an irrational loneliness creep slowly into your psyche and start to eat away at the tiny shred at self-confidence you had once again started to build.
Are you destined to be wanted only behind closed doors? Not good-enough to be put on someone else's pedestal and adored for all the world to see? To be someone a person is proud to call their own? Not in a proprietary sense mind you, but as a partner as well as a lover? More than a late night pit stop?
I tend to have no emotional attachment to sex, it is what it is. That desire to feel and to want, to give in to the moment and all that rigmarole. There is a mental separation, an emotional one. Sure if there is someone you care deeply for things are much better generally in that department, but who's to say that's necessary? It’s just another want. A bonus.
So that feeling of wanting. That knowing I'm wanted, but waiting. That giddy anticipation when you are getting to know someone. That clever flirtation between two people over time, the build up like the previews for that big summer blockbuster that gets people lining up outside the theater eagerly awaiting opening night. That's what I am waiting for.
I want my opening night, and I want a standing ovation.
No.
I get up and go to work every day, living the same day seemingly over and over. Feeling fatigued by 4pm and ready for bed by 9. Wow I'm really the life of the party aren't I?
I have been busy sure, weekends full of miscellaneous plans and occasions. But I don't know if I would call it having a life per say. None of it was my doing. I am just a guest, an observer attending the goings on of others moving forward.
Not even sure I would know where to begin if that wanted feeling actually got me anywhere these days. That wooing I long for has left me so out of the loop I am afraid I would stare like a deer in headlights, shocked and awed, immobile and unsure of how to proceed.
I mean sure we all have that carnal instinct of a basic and sexual nature we need to fill. We've all had that go-to person or persons over the years. Those faithful standby's who serve that sole purpose of fulfilling such needs. But then what?
You find yourself in the throes of it, feeling fearless and sensual. Nary a negative thought goes through your mind as you tangle yourself in the sheets, on the couch, in the car or where ever your tryst make take you. You revel in the feeling for days. You feel untouchable, a wanted woman yet again.
And then the reality of it hits you again. I can do this, with ease, with candor. I can be witty and charming. Sexy and coy. Behind closed doors. Late at night. Incognito. The hush-hush nature of it all. The secretive society of the friends-with-benefits world you become wrapped up in. And it’s not bad, you don't dislike it, you just wonder about what else is out there more.
Is there something wrong with a public acknowledgment of your attraction? Why is it so taboo? You get to doubting yourself again, and not at the fault of your partner in crime, no. This was of course consensual, but your over-thinking antics and low self-esteem combined with an irrational loneliness creep slowly into your psyche and start to eat away at the tiny shred at self-confidence you had once again started to build.
Are you destined to be wanted only behind closed doors? Not good-enough to be put on someone else's pedestal and adored for all the world to see? To be someone a person is proud to call their own? Not in a proprietary sense mind you, but as a partner as well as a lover? More than a late night pit stop?
I tend to have no emotional attachment to sex, it is what it is. That desire to feel and to want, to give in to the moment and all that rigmarole. There is a mental separation, an emotional one. Sure if there is someone you care deeply for things are much better generally in that department, but who's to say that's necessary? It’s just another want. A bonus.
So that feeling of wanting. That knowing I'm wanted, but waiting. That giddy anticipation when you are getting to know someone. That clever flirtation between two people over time, the build up like the previews for that big summer blockbuster that gets people lining up outside the theater eagerly awaiting opening night. That's what I am waiting for.
I want my opening night, and I want a standing ovation.
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