I Know There's Something Wrong With Me
I had drinks and dinner with Vin Diesel last night. I did that thing I've always wanted to do of showing up on a date wearing whatever, instead of dolling myself up. You know, beauty coming from within bollocks. Mind I was still tipsy from lunch so cargos, a tank and old flip flops was the best I could summon up.
He's hot with Popeye arms, he's 36, he is fairly easy to talk to, is French Peruvian - as R said, "don't we love the mixed races" - yes, I do. He loves Gainsbourg. He seems to be into me. He kisses pretty good too.
And still, I feel nothing. I come home and stand in the shower wandering what the fuck is wrong with me. Why can't I feel anything? Just one butterfly? A moth, even? I feel neutered. R says it's because we're not meeting the right men, that we would get excited if even one was a stand-out. Probably. And nothing is as simple as sex anymore - they want something more, there's always a drama, I can't wait to get away from them.
And for the first time in what feels like forever, I miss being with someone. I miss the simple things. "And what did you end up doing on Sunday?" "Not much, S and I had breakfast and a walk around Balmain". It gave me a pang for that simple intimacy with someone else, the ease of walking, laughing, listening. I am so happy for S, it makes me smile just thinking of him and his partner S, together. I wake up in the morning and these feelings are gone - I really should write this shit at the time, now in the light of day it feels so phoney and full of it - it really doesn't trouble me, if it happens it happens, bof.
He's hot with Popeye arms, he's 36, he is fairly easy to talk to, is French Peruvian - as R said, "don't we love the mixed races" - yes, I do. He loves Gainsbourg. He seems to be into me. He kisses pretty good too.
And still, I feel nothing. I come home and stand in the shower wandering what the fuck is wrong with me. Why can't I feel anything? Just one butterfly? A moth, even? I feel neutered. R says it's because we're not meeting the right men, that we would get excited if even one was a stand-out. Probably. And nothing is as simple as sex anymore - they want something more, there's always a drama, I can't wait to get away from them.
And for the first time in what feels like forever, I miss being with someone. I miss the simple things. "And what did you end up doing on Sunday?" "Not much, S and I had breakfast and a walk around Balmain". It gave me a pang for that simple intimacy with someone else, the ease of walking, laughing, listening. I am so happy for S, it makes me smile just thinking of him and his partner S, together. I wake up in the morning and these feelings are gone - I really should write this shit at the time, now in the light of day it feels so phoney and full of it - it really doesn't trouble me, if it happens it happens, bof.
posted by Julia at 9:37 AM
4 Comments:
It does feel so corny to say, but you'll feel it when it's right and you're ready and he's ready.
en tous cas, joli post.
Yep, I know exactly how you're feeling - absence of butterflies is making me wonder whether I should just keep her as a friend. *sigh*
There is nothing wrong with you! The butterflies are a must. If they are not around, then is it really worth it?
I hear you, about missing sharing life with someone
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