People reading this blog probably would’t think of me as the relationship type. The format of my relationships is overtly sexual most of the time.
While I’m open to the possibility of a commitment, the thing I’m actively looking for is a connection in any way, shape or form or position.
I met Guy #168 last weekend, finally rendering the name of this blog valid. He was one of the best connections I ever had, like the best parts of this blog combined into one person. In short, he had abs and brains.
Like Guy #91.
Guy #91 was a pleasant surprise. He had made quite the effort to meet up with me. I believe I ignored him the first couple of times he hit me up online. His profile picture just didn’t quite do it for me. But there are of course days when boredom inspires an open mind. It was on one such day I gave this Guy a shot at becoming my Guy #91.
When he stepped into my car I was greeted by one of the cutest and most seductive smiles I had ever seen. Profile pictures always set you up for disappointment, except this time. Guy #91 was simply one of the most beautiful Guys I had ever seen in any car.
As we drove to my place I could tell he liked the music I was playing. No Guy ever gets my taste in music.
Guy #91 was smart, funny and easy to talk to. We had no trouble getting on each other’s wavelengths and enjoying the view from there.
So where’s the conflict in this story?
Guy #91 quickly fell into my is this too good to be true?-category. That was the one thought I couldn’t get out of my head. Hitting abs and brains is like winning the lottery for me. Hitting abs and brains and my taste in music is like being struck by lightning twice in one day.
We spent a few hours together, during which we talked, laughed, got high and had sex. And while it was one of my best days as a human being ever, I couldn’t help but question my luck. The sheer beauty of what was lying in my bed was all but completely apparent, but I couldn’t submit to it.
Somehow I still had trouble accepting pleasure. Instead of wondering if this Guy was worthy of me, which is what I usually did during sex, I wondered if I was worthy of him.
When I have sex with people I consider less attractive I can pretend I don’t have issues with worthiness. Abs and brains render me more naked somehow.
Although Guy #91 stayed in touch over Facebook for a few years, we never saw each other again. The first time I had rejected him out of a sense of superiority. Now I was rejecting him out of shyness.
It’s not easy being a narcissist.
Guy #91 made repeated efforts to get back into my bed, but I kept him and his drop dead gorgeous smile at a distance, where my self esteem didn’t have to look at it.
Guy #91 and I eventually lost touch (though I’ve taken up the habit of liking his Instagram photos lately). We now live an ocean apart and I don’t have a car anymore, so chances of us meeting up anytime soon are slim.
Still, being with Guy #168 last weekend made me realize something:
Sometime after Guy #91 I started accepting pleasure.
Life is more fun when you’re not afraid of beauty.