I Am Not A Nice Guy*

More rambling bullshit.
I went to Coen yesterday. From Bloomfield, it is about a 450km run when you have to go into Cooktown first. I got to think a lot while I was driving. I love a good, long drive. It clears the confusion in my head.
I was once told that only arseholes ‘get the girl’. Throw in charm, then throw in some doubt and they’ll fall for you and jump your bones just to hang onto you. Then you can toss them aside and find another fuck. Or use them as a housekeeper. After all, according to this ‘expert’ and his peers, that’s all women are good for. Just treat ’em mean and they’ll stay keen.
Which is a great philosophy…for fuckwits and arseholes. Oh, it works. Just ask all the fuckwits with the psychologically abused and beaten women clinging to them.
Then you have women who will climb all over you, then get offended if you don’t sleep with them. Or, if you do, you’re just another arsehole that used them for sex.
Now, none of the above has happened in recent times. I’m just in a mood, trying to make sense of something.
You see, I think I need to change a little. I don’t ‘chase’ women as a rule. Well, I didn’t think I ever would again. I decided a long time ago (a looong time ago), not to chat up,woo, court or whatever you want to call it. I decided to let it flow. To just roll along and if someone came along, and things worked ok and we liked each other, then fine. That philosophy worked well. I’ve had the odd mutually enjoyable short term ‘friendships’, and two very good long term relationships.
I can’t do the chase a screw thing. It’s just not me. There has to be something more than the sex factor. As much as I would love to be able to switch off my conscience and be another typical bloke who is led by his dick (oh how much simpler that would be), I can’t. I won’t. I don’t need to be ruled by my libido. My romantified head can get me in enough trouble thanks very much.
I mean I love making love. I can spend hours (and on rare occasions minutes) making love. But I can’t chase women for the fuck factor. I need to be really interested in someone on a personal level before the horniness sets in. There needs to be some trust in that If we are going to sleep together, it is a mutual, personal thing to share, not just a fuck and run deal, not something to talk about in the pub. If I don’t have an interest in how ‘her’ head works, her personality, then sorry, I’m not going to be interested in getting any bed action either. Even if it is for one night.
I don’t *think* I fall easily. Maybe some will argue that point, but I know I don’t. However, when I do, my biggest downfall is that I don’t hide it well enough. I should just do what I chose to do thirty years ago and *not* try. Maybe I should go out, be cool, and just chase a few mutually enjoyable, no ties, no dramas screws. Because falling for someone, wanting to be with someone so bad that most of your day is spent thinking about them, is just a fools folly.
But then, that’s my problem. When I fall, I do it full on. I mean, I’ve had two relationships in 24 years. I’m still getting over losing Tina and I am not quite sure what I should be. Am I supposed to still be grieving? I thought I would be a lost soul forever. I clung to a dear friend last year, because she showed me love (no, not that sort of love), and for a while I confused that love with something else. But we worked that out. I began to accept being alone and started to get used to the idea of being a single guy. But then, as you all know, something happened. I got floored. Fucking totally floored. A most beautiful, amazing soul came into my life (she doesn’t believe that because she has had a pretty good run of being treated like a damned doormat all her life). I was smitten. We talked. We laughed. We got to know each other better. I started to (God forbid) fall in love. But then I pushed the limits. No, I didn’t try and get into her pants. I just got too full on. I shouldn’t have been so open in how I felt. I should have held some in reserve (get ’em keen), instead of carrying on like a lovestruck teenager (but damn, if you met this woman…).
It’s not her fault. She is going through a lot of shit and doesn’t need the emotional turmoil that I’ve put her through lately. I did make life hard for her. All I should have done was be her friend and not push for anything more. That’s all she needed. A friend to talk with. But I decided I wanted more. A friendship. A relationship. To be with her and help her through her shit. After all, her friendship helped me. I shouldn’t have been so full on. I didn’t think about how my feelings for her could cause problems. I just dived in there and fucked it all up.
I’m sorry. Not for me, but for complicating her life when she didn’t need it.
And I said I wouldn’t talk about her anymore…

So, from now on, if I meet a woman, and if I begin to feel for that person, I’m going to turn around and walk away. I’m going to stop being so emotional, and I’m going to learn ‘casual’. Because in the end, all this romantic stuff helps no-one.

Righto then. If there’s anyone out there looking for some ‘no emotional ties’ casual fun (and I don’t mean a game of cricket on the beach), I’ll be around. Just look for me. I’m done with romance and commitment for a while (yeah, sure Brad).
Time to take that spoonful of cement.

I promise my next post will be far lighter and easier to read with no mention of romance, love and ‘stuff’.

Fuck she’s a beautiful soul, and drop dead gorgeous, and this romantic fool had to start falling for her. I am still doing it hey. Still carrying on about her. Sorry folks, but deal with it. She has made me come alive again and I can’t thank her enough for that. My spark fired. I stopped thinking about how my life had ended in October last year. I stopped crying every day. I learnt to accept that there is no way that my best friend and lover can ever come back, and I stopped dwelling on that. She helped me start to heal. She (R) fills my thoughts, and I could so easily spend all my time with her.
But, If I was one of those aforementioned arseholes, I wouldn’t feel this way, because she would have been just another conquest to try my luck on. And I may just have got lucky at some point. Might have made for a good yarn with the rednecks at the pub (if I was that arsehole).

Wingman, keep looking out for her as you always have. She deserves someone special, and I hope she finds that person.

* I’m going to try anyway (to not be a nice guy, like in the title, hence the asterisk pointing to here…like, it’s grammar folks), because apparently, nice guys always lose (now stop feeling sorry for yourself Brad & get your hardarsed shit together, you’ve got maidens to slay & dragons to bed…).

Who the fuck am I trying to kid. I’ll go back to Bloomfield and keep thinking about her, wanting to be in her company. Hoping that just maybe, she will believe in me, and trust enough to want to be with me and let me hold her, so she knows that not all men will hurt her, or just want her for her body. I want to be with her, the whole package (and that means everyone that comes with that package). I want to share her fears, her joy, her sadness, her love. I know that won’t happen, but it’s a nice thought. A much nicer thought than contemplating how to become an arsehole.

And thankyou Rosie (if you’re reading this), you have given me more than you realise.

P.S. All of you should read this, from a blogger friend. It’s very cool. http://quirkycharm.wordpress.com/2012/06/16/antilamentation/

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