Since returning to a metropolis, i've found myself browsing the Craigslist romance ads once again. After five years in the spiritual wasteland of the southern bible belt, the prospect of progressive big city wimyn digging my free-spirited ways, is a thought that tingles.
So far, the results are less than fulsome. After meeting all the hippies and artists who come to the city's open mics, i'd thought that the rumors of the demise of San Francisco's soul had been premature, but maybe not. The quantity and quality of ads here is bleak compared to NYC. The population difference is enormous, but still...
I came close to responding to an ad this week i had no business answering. I've nearly been obsessing about it, though i was in almost NO way what the womyn asked for. When you're this wounded and intimacy-starved, it gets ever-harder to follow the "appropriate" rules of a dysfunctional society.
This womyn wants babies and a life partner, and she wants 'em now! Her ad was intelligently-written, and her plan concise. A few dates, and GO. She wanted a well-educated engineer type (like herself), significantly older than her 27 years - looks not important. She also happened to be asian, and posted a very sexy picture which is almost surely not her ("almost" being the operative word to my off-balance mind).
She pushed so many of my buttons, it felt like my bleeding reptilian brain went into paralyzed hyperdrive. I wanted to bring all my writer's skill and personal magnetism to bear, to sweep her like she's never been swept. In my heated fantasy, i'd be exactly what she wished...i'd live with her, and waste no time in getting to the best sex of our lives. Let babies come!
Part of this is an unfulfilled lifelong dream of loving an asian womyn completely...and the knowledge that i'm not as young as i look. I'm a generation removed from this womyn, and there's a shallow (DNA-driven?) part of my brain that wants my dream lover to be drippingly fertile.
I would convince her that her engineer wouldn't have the emotional depth to love her and her children as well as i...that genetically, with my IQ and athleticism, her kids wouldn't forgive her for passing me by...that any man she chose under her conditions would feel he was doing her a favor, as opposed to the humble love in which i'd wrap her...i'd tell her that she deserves to wake up every morning and see a miracle, not a "plan"...
Never mind that being a stay-at-home parent would consume my life and probably cripple my artistic dreams.
Never mind that the monogamy she wants is an unnatural, self-destructive relic of a barbarically possessive era of humyn history.
If her ad had been up just a few hours longer, i don't think i'd have been able to hold out.
Would my subconscious have been counting on her to say no? Or was i convinced that there would be some slip between her lip and cup...that perhaps we'd be among the 10% of couples who can't conceive...or that she might get pregnant but miscarry? That someway i'd get the relationship i've longed for, but would ultimately find my freedom intact?
I don't know. I truly don't.
There's a part of me that wants to love a womyn seismically, life-alteringly, even cohabitationally and without end. There's also a part of me that yearns to nurture and love children every day.
But am i so afraid of being alone anymore, that i'd sell my very soul?
Too many feelings, amidst mortality creeping...
Love me, i'm dying here...
No comments:
Post a Comment